Once the meal was finished, stillness stirred him into motion. He decided to try his luck again at the secondhand market on Sifu Street.
The Thirteen Startling Spirit Transformations he had obtained from the stone lion yesterday had given him a taste of success. The Heavenly Accumulation Furnace’s ability to identify treasures and discern the unusual among countless old objects filled him with longing.
Especially items like that stone lion—far from being a magic treasure, yet merely because it had been stained with the former owner’s dharma essence, he had been able to turn stone into gold.
Old objects like these, half between the immortal and the mundane, were beneath the notice of true cultivators, while ordinary folk did not know their specific uses. Yet in his hands, they could transform decay into wonder.
Passing through streets and alleys, he once more stepped into the Sifu Street market. The familiar cries of peddlers rushed toward him: “Rattle-drums, needles and thread…”
“How much for this pot?”
Qin Chuan’s heart stirred when he caught sight of something.
The He family residence he was currently renting had no privy, unlike in the countryside, where one could relieve oneself wherever convenient.
Here, using the toilet meant going out at night to the public privy at the end of the alley, which was extremely inconvenient.
And a chamber pot was precisely something he had not brought with him when he came.
“Three wen.”
After some haggling, they finally settled on two spirit coins.
He tucked the newly bought pot under his arm and headed straight for the secondhand market around the corner.
“Oh, young brother, you’re here again?” The stall owner in the melon-skin cap from yesterday actually still recognized him.
Qin Chuan rummaged through his stall for a while, then shook his head. “Why is it still the same old things? No new goods?”
The melon-skin-capped stall owner chuckled. “In our line of work, how could stock come in that quickly? These haven’t even been cleared out yet. How would I dare bring in more?”
“So you admit these were newly acquired goods?” Qin Chuan teased with a smile.
“They were acquired, but they’re not new! They’re all old items!” the stall owner hurriedly denied.
Qin Chuan smiled. “Then I’ll come back next time.”
He wandered around the secondhand market for quite some time. It seemed the melon-skin-capped stall owner had indeed been telling the truth: new stock here came in rather slowly, and most of what he saw was still yesterday’s old merchandise.
Just as he was feeling disappointed and preparing to turn and leave, he suddenly heard someone laughing in front of a nearby calligraphy and painting stall:
“Boss, you really have guts! That Deputy County God has already been thrown inside, and you still dare sell his ink treasures here? Be honest—did you fish this out of some trash bin outside a grand estate? Aren’t you afraid of bringing trouble down on yourself?”
“What trouble could it bring? I’m just a small commoner. Who’d arrest me for this? Besides…”
The calligraphy stall owner narrowed his eyes and smiled.
“If Deputy County God Zhao hadn’t been thrown inside, how could someone like me ever get to see a great official’s own handwriting? To tell you the truth, last night I was passing through Yongkang Street when I saw a pile of calligraphy and paintings being burned. I went closer for a look, and they turned out to be Zhao Zhongji’s ink treasures! I risked my life to snatch this one out of the fire. Take a look…”
“The writing is indeed authentic. Though Zhao Zhongji has fallen, his brushwork was always quite good. It’s just…”
The customer laughed and cursed.
“It’s worthless now! Who would still be willing to collect the ink treasure of a corrupt official?”
Before Zhao Zhongji fell from power, a single piece of his calligraphy or painting was worth nearly a thousand spirit yuan, and even then, hard to come by.
Now that he had been imprisoned in chains, those who had once been close to him were terrified of not distancing themselves fast enough, afraid of being implicated in even the slightest way. Thus, in secret, they either threw away or burned his works. His ink treasures had become utterly worthless.
“This… no matter what, it’s still the personal handwriting of a Deputy County God of Jiuchuan County’s City God Office, a Golden Core cultivator! At least name a price. If it’s suitable, I’ll let you have it,” the stall owner continued to persuade him.
“I’d better look at something else. This painting—nowadays, even if you gave it to me for free, I’d find it taking up space.” The customer was utterly blunt. He shook his head and left.
Not far away, however, Qin Chuan’s gaze narrowed slightly and landed on that piece of calligraphy.
“An ink treasure personally written by a Golden Core cultivator? Would there be dharma essence inside it?”
Once the thought arose, he could no longer suppress his curiosity and strolled over to the calligraphy and painting stall.
“Young brother, buying a painting?” The stall owner smiled warmly when he saw a new customer.
Qin Chuan neither confirmed nor denied it. He silently reached out and brushed his hand over the calligraphy and paintings on the stall one by one. In the end, his fingertips landed on Zhao Zhongji’s inscribed piece.
Upon the work were four large characters:
May Your Grand Ambitions Unfold.
Signature: Inscribed by Zhao Zhongji on the Spring Equinox of the Jiachen Year. It was an ink treasure from last spring.
The instant his fingertips touched the xuan paper, words surfaced in his mind:
[Item: Calligraphic Inscription]
[Written with the brush of Golden Core cultivator Zhao Zhongji. The brushwork coils like dragons and snakes; the ink contains magical power and holds dharma essence within. It can be refined into one portion of calligraphic attainment, or returned to the furnace for 2 points of dharma essence.]
Qin Chuan’s heart trembled slightly.
2 points!
Whether it was the Mother-Child Mithril Needles or the guardian stone lion, returning them to the furnace had yielded only 1 point of dharma essence. Yet this inscription actually contained 2 points!
His expression remained calm as he asked indifferently:
“How much for the painting?”
Seeing this young man get straight to the point, the calligraphy stall owner was just about to demand an exorbitant price when Qin Chuan spoke first:
“Boss, don’t try to fool me. I heard very clearly from the side just now. Zhao Zhongji has already been cast into the Heavenly Prison, and you picked this painting out of the fire.”
The stall owner was startled, then smiled. “Then what price did you have in mind?”
Qin Chuan said, “To be frank, I practice calligraphy. Zhao Zhongji’s handwriting has a distinctive style and can be used for copying. But if you ask too high a price, I won’t be that sucker. Give me an honest price.”
The stall owner knew full well that this item was no longer what it once had been. He had picked it up for free to begin with; if he could sell it, it was profit. So he raised one finger. “Five hundred coins.”
Qin Chuan shook his head. “Fifty spirit coins.”
“You’re cutting the price far too viciously!” the stall owner said with a bitter face. “At least add a little more.”
Qin Chuan said, “Fifty spirit coins. If you have others, I’ll take them together. If you’re selling, I’ll take it. If not, forget it.”
“Truly? I do have a few more, only they’ve all been burned. Look at these…” Hearing this, the stall owner’s eyes lit up. He hurriedly took three charred, incomplete scrolls from beneath the stall.
“They’re all fragments?” Qin Chuan frowned.
He saw three inscriptions, with only seven characters remaining when pieced together. They should originally have been “Heaven Rewards Diligence,” “The Sea Embraces All Rivers,” and “Tranquility Reaches Far.” Now, “Heaven Rewards Diligence” had only “Heaven… Diligence” left, “The Sea Embraces All Rivers” had “The sea embraces…” remaining, and “Tranquility Reaches Far” was left with “Tranquility… reaches…”
As he examined them, he reached out and brushed his hand over them.
[Damaged Inscription]
[Inscribed by Golden Core cultivator Zhao Zhongji… Can be returned to the furnace for 1 point of dharma essence.]
…
Qin Chuan was secretly delighted. Even each damaged piece could be returned to the furnace for 1 point of dharma essence!
When this fallen Deputy County God Zhao had written these inscriptions, he evidently had not been perfunctory. Every character had been imbued with his mind and spirit, which was why even the remnants contained dharma nature.
On the surface, however, he deliberately showed disdain. “Boss, you’re really not honest! They’re burned to this state, and you still want to sell them for money?”
Even with the stall owner’s thick skin, he could not quite keep his composure. He gave a dry cough. “Young brother, since you’re using them to practice writing and not for collection, it’s only for copying. It shouldn’t matter, right?”
“Do I look like that much of a sucker?” Qin Chuan asked in return.
The stall owner sighed. “How about this: buy something else from my little stall, and I’ll treat these damaged pieces as a gift to you. How’s that?”
In the end, Qin Chuan picked out an old almanac, priced at two spirit coins, and looked at the stall owner.
The corner of the stall owner’s mouth twitched. He turned his head away, as if admitting defeat. “Fine then! Fifty-two spirit coins, thank you kindly. Take them…”
Qin Chuan sighed inwardly as well.
With a pained heart, he took out the spirit coins and accepted the roll of calligraphy and paintings.
Though he knew that no matter how one calculated it, he had made a huge profit, watching money flow away like running water still made his heart ache.
Carrying several scrolls of calligraphy and paintings, he left Sifu Street. Counting the little more than three spirit yuan remaining on him, Qin Chuan gritted his teeth and stamped his foot.
“If I come here again, I’ll chop off my hand!”
He secretly made up his mind that before he had a stable income in the future, he absolutely would not come here to squander money again for at least a month.
At present, he had yet to take up his post and had no salary. If he kept spending so extravagantly, he might really end up living on air.
He returned to the small courtyard outside Jianchun Gate.
Fortunately, there was no one in the courtyard.
Qin Chuan let out a breath of relief, slipped into his room, shut the door tightly, drew the curtains fully closed, and could finally try the Heavenly Accumulation Furnace’s second function.
“Return to the furnace!”
He aimed his palm at the several scrolls of calligraphy and paintings.