Chapter 23: The Indolent Stallholder

Ouyang Xiaoyue caught the clean, crisp black robe tossed toward her and, following the guide, stepped into the mysterious, dim expanse of the black market.

The moment they crossed the threshold, an eerie and oppressive atmosphere washed over them. Inside, every vendor and buyer was clad in identical black robes, shrouded from head to toe, with only their cold, indifferent eyes visible. This attire not only lent everyone an air of inscrutable mystery but also spared them from unnecessary trouble—such as the dangers inherent in having one's identity exposed.

Ouyang Xiaoyue had not come to the black market for a aimless stroll; she had a specific goal in mind. Like an agile young deer, she darted between the stalls, her gaze sweeping rapidly over each display. Despite her movements, the small fire fox in her arms drew little attention. In this chaotic melting pot of a black market, people often carried all manner of spirit beasts; a girl holding a pet was hardly a rarity.

After spending less than a quarter of an hour traversing every stall, Ouyang Xiaoyue began to fear she would return empty-handed. But just then, her gaze was caught by an object at a nearby stall.

A faint, ethereal humming—as if coming from somewhere distant yet near—suddenly resonated in her mind. The sound seemed to possess a magical allure, drawing her irresistibly toward that particular stall.

The vendor lounged there lazily, his tattered robes fluttering in the air. When he noticed someone approaching, he merely lifted his head slightly, cast a cursory glance at Ouyang Xiaoyue with sleepy eyes, and then, as if nothing had happened, let his head drop again, resting his chin on his hand as he began to snore, fast asleep. His nonchalant demeanor was a far cry from the enthusiasm one might expect from a merchant.

Yet, Ouyang Xiaoyue seemed unbothered by his cold indifference. She slowly crouched down to examine the jumble of items scattered on the ground. They appeared to have no rhyme or reason; some were coated in thick dust, while others were broken or incomplete. She remained still, staring at them in quiet contemplation.

Time ticked by, and perhaps the vendor had finally had his fill of sleep. He snapped his eyes open, and just as he was about to stretch his limbs, he was startled to find a petite figure still crouched before his stall, staring intently. A spark of curiosity flickered within him, and his drowsy expression instantly vanished, replaced by a spirited interest. "My good guest," he asked, intrigued, "have you set your eyes on any treasures here?"

As the vendor spoke, Ouyang Xiaoyue stood quietly, listening. Suddenly, as if noticing something, she reached out a slender finger and pointed toward the center of the chaotic, assorted pile.

The vendor followed her gesture, his gaze landing on a rather ancient, rusted medicine furnace resting there. Upon seeing her choice, the vendor’s pupils, hidden beneath the shadow of his hood, contracted sharply, a flicker of indescribable emotion flashing deep within his eyes.