Chapter 59

Chapter 59: Presale

Back when Ancient Palace City surfaced in the Ancient Graveyard, its walls had been covered in carved records written in Immortal Realm script.

Deciphering it had been a painful process. In the end, they relied on the inheritance of Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion’s founding Pavilion Master and his heir, Liu Yang, to translate everything.

Every sect had suffered from the mismatch in writing systems. As the translation progressed, they recorded the results, intending to give each disciple a copy.

Hu Qing had one too.

So why hadn’t she learned it?

Because she was always busy. Because there was never enough time.

Now, sitting here, she felt the awkwardness crawl up her spine.

“That’s right,” Yu Liu Ya said, smoothly rescuing her. “You were busy.”

Hu Qing bared her teeth in a smile. Yes. Busy.

Yu Liu Ya cleared his throat. “You’ve worked hard. See if there are any immortal pills in there that can heal your injuries.”

“Forget it.” Hu Qing waved him off. “Who knows what’s in those? Anything you put in your mouth has to be treated carefully.”

“I’ll take spirit crystals. If there are good forging materials, set some aside for me.”

“And…” Her eyes gleamed. “His best immortal artifact. I want to study it for a while. It’s been ages since I forged anything.”

Then her expression turned a little wary. “Senior Brother, will his sect come looking for trouble?”

Yu Liu Ya spread his hands. “If they come, we’ll deal with it.”

Shui Xin trotted over with a few thunder spirit crystals cradled in both hands, grinning like he’d found treasure.

Yu Liu Ya didn’t even hesitate. “They’re yours.”

After all, Zhe Liu had once been part of Zhaohua Sect. On the surface, Yu Liu Ya had to make a show of stance.

Hu Qing eyed the glittering thunder crystals. “No gold spirit crystals? No fire spirit crystals?”

“I’m a thunder spiritual root,” Shui Xin said, as if that explained everything.

Hu Qing felt irritation flare—good, she finally had enough energy to get irritated again.

“I’ll find some for you,” Yu Liu Ya hurried to say, shooting Shui Xin a look that clearly meant, learn how to speak to people.

Then he asked, more carefully, “When is your skin going to recover?”

Shui Xin lifted his chin. “My beauty is upgrading.”

Hu Qing made a face. “Did you find any dark arts?”

Of course they had. Someone had already isolated them in a separate box, to be destroyed later under group supervision.

Qin Yang came over and handed Hu Qing a small carving, meant for the hand.

It was heavy and smooth, shaped like an abstract beast. The main body was dark, threaded through with fine reddish-brown lines.

Hu Qing brought it to her nose and inhaled. “It’s some kind of metal or stone. Little Li Realm doesn’t have material like this.”

“But I don’t know what it is.”

“You might need it,” Qin Yang said. “Keep it.”

Then he turned to Yu Liu Ya. “Copy the books and jade slips. Record everything.”

“And anything relevant to Immortal Realm, once it’s copied, open it to the disciples.”

Yu Liu Ya nodded.

At this point, Hu Qing felt useless here. She asked to go home.

“Fine,” Yu Liu Ya said. “Once everything is sorted, we’ll call you.”

He glanced at Shui Xin. “You’re leaving too?”

Shui Xin looked genuinely surprised. Of course he was leaving. Was he even close to these people?

Yu Liu Ya only added one warning. “If any strangers show up at your door, send me a message immediately.”

Hu Qing nodded.

“Should we send a few martial nephews to serve you?” Yu Liu Ya asked.

Hu Qing hurriedly refused. No. She wasn’t some elder who’d lived tens of thousands of years.

She insisted the two of them could manage, but Wen Chuan still led a group of disciples to escort them through the market district. In their current condition, they looked like they could collapse in a stiff breeze.

Hu Zhuo was waiting at the gate, practically vibrating with nerves. The moment he saw Hu Qing, his face split into a huge grin and he sprinted over.

“Sis—my dear mother—”

Hu Zhuo’s gaze slid to the blistered monk at her side. His grin froze.

This was… this was supposed to be his flower-faced big brother?

Shui Xin shot him a cold glance.

Hu Zhuo choked. Great. The most beautiful person under heaven had become the ugliest.

Hu Qing smacked Hu Zhuo on the back of the head. “Stop calling me your mother. Go inside.”

Then she turned to Wen Chuan. “Alright. I won’t keep you. Go back and help your master.”

Wen Chuan nodded. “Yes, Little Martial Uncle. If anything happens, contact us immediately.”

Hu Qing had plenty of contacts now. She was practically famous.

Once they were home, Hu Zhuo started chattering like a sparrow. He made them sit comfortably, brought food and drinks, and unloaded gossip while showing Hu Qing his newest forged item.

Hu Qing picked up the flower crown he proudly displayed and nearly got dizzy. The gold base alone weighed a full three pounds.

“You made this for me?” she demanded. “I’m not wearing it.”

It was tacky beyond belief.

Shui Xin tapped the table. “Come over here. I’m injured. You’re not going to take care of me?”

Hu Zhuo gave him a bright smile that said, hold on, and ignored him completely.

“Sis, this is the most popular style right now,” Hu Zhuo insisted. “They say immortal maidens in Immortal Realm love this kind the most.”

Hu Qing stared at the lump of gold and gemstones and deadpanned, “Immortal maidens do not love this kind.”

She’d seen plenty of immortal maidens wearing crowns, yes—but theirs looked like art. This one looked like it came with free shipping.

“Melt it down and remake it,” she said immediately.

Then she grabbed paper and pigments. “I’ll draw some designs. When you’re bored, forge them and sell them in the shop.”

“Okay!” Hu Zhuo agreed without hesitation.

Then he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right. While you were gone, Wan Tong came looking for you.”

Wan Tong.

That Gold-Medal Sales Guy.

Just thinking of him made Hu Qing’s wallet ache on instinct. She inhaled slowly. “What is he trying to sell me now?”

“A cave abode.”

Hu Qing stared. “A cave abode? I have my own mountain in Zhaohua Sect. He’s selling me a cave abode?”

Hu Zhuo leaned in. “On Heaven’s Grace Continent.”

Hu Qing’s brain stalled. Even Shui Xin turned his head.

“Heaven’s Grace Continent is a mess,” Hu Qing said. “Even Great Experts don’t dare roam around freely. He’s selling cave abodes there? Where would he even get them?”

“That’s why it’s a presale,” Hu Zhuo said, serious as a judge.

“Wan Tong said Heaven’s Grace Continent will be taken sooner or later. When everyone can finally go, the good places will already be occupied.”

“He has internal connections. He can mark off the best spot in the first batch and reserve a cave abode for you.”

Hu Zhuo looked at her like a puppy begging for meat.

Hu Qing looked back and felt her head throb. Even worse than Hu Zhuo was the salesman. Salespeople could sell anything. Even a pile of crap, and they’d still make people fight to buy it.

A presale, too. Were they not afraid of it crashing?

Shui Xin doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach. “So stupid.”

“Hu Zhuo,” Hu Qing said, trying hard to be patient, “where exactly are Brother Wan Tong’s ‘connections’?”

“I’m the daughter of a Divine Transformation Stage Great Expert from Zhaohua Sect. Do you really think my connections are weaker than his?”

“Not necessarily,” Hu Zhuo said earnestly. “Cats have cat ways; rats have rat ways.”

Hu Qing almost choked. She couldn’t even argue.

Chan Ming could be terrifying, but he wasn’t in the real estate business.

“Tell him I don’t need it,” Hu Qing said at last. “Any place I want in the future, I’ll take it by force.”

Hu Zhuo opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. Then I’ll have him keep an eye out for the kind you can’t just take.”

Hu Qing went silent.

So he was determined to make her spend money one way or another.

Shui Xin laughed even harder. “You still don’t get it? Your sister is poor right now.”

Hu Zhuo bristled. “My sister isn’t poor.”

With a dramatic flourish, he pulled out the account book. “Sis, look. We have money.”

Hu Qing didn’t have much hope. She hadn’t been gone for centuries—only a year. With Hu Zhuo’s forging level, how much could he possibly earn?

She flipped straight to the last page—and immediately frowned. “Why is there no total?”

She flipped back. Every page had a subtotal. “You want me to add it myself?”

“No need,” Hu Zhuo said proudly. “Since the last audit, our added profit is one million low-grade spirit crystals.”

One million low-grade spirit crystals was only one high-grade spirit crystal. It sounded small, but their shop sold cheap goods, with scattered stock. Sometimes all they earned was the handling fee from items Zhaohua Sect disciples consigned.

In that context, one million low-grade spirit crystals was a lot.

Last time they audited the books, their yearly net surplus had only been a little over a hundred thousand.

So where had the difference come from?