36: Killing intent arises from the heart

Chen Biao once again used his old trick, deliberately dragging out his words, observing Lin Jingyu’s reaction.

"Tsk tsk, I'll go back and ask. Maybe... other 'Fellow Daoist' have 'borrowed' Spirit Stones from them too..."

"This debt... it might not be just this one, you know..."

"We'll... meet again! Hehehe..."

Chen Biao let out a series of chilling dry laughs, turned around, and quickly departed, carrying the heavy Spirit Stones and the malice that had just risen in his heart.

Lin Jingyu stood rooted to the spot, his hands at his sides, hidden by his wide sleeves, clenched tightly!

His knuckles made a faint “crack” sound from the excessive force.

A dense killing intent, almost materializing, like ten-thousand-year-old ice, frantically gathered and surged deep within his eyes!

He hadn't expected this person to be so insatiably greedy, like a maggot clinging to bone.

Fifty Spirit Stones not only failed to shut him up but instead ignited deeper greed and malicious intent!

If the threat of this venomous snake wasn't eliminated soon, it would likely be even more direct and fatal than the insidious Lin Chengyuan!

He lowered his eyelids, concealing the cold murderous intent churning in his eyes.

Within his heart, a clear and ruthless plan had already taken shape.

Lin Jingyu seemed completely oblivious to the lingering complex gazes and hushed discussions around him.

He silently bent down and calmly picked up the now empty, slightly dusty coarse cloth pouch.

His movements were unhurried and composed.

He gently patted off the dust from the pouch, as if brushing away an insignificant object.

Then, he naturally walked towards his sister, and under the watchful eyes of the crowd, he leaned down slightly.

His lips close to Lin Jingxia’s ear, he whispered in a teasing, airy voice that only the two of them could hear:

"Did you see it?"

"That old dog Lin Chengyuan's face..."

"He's about to explode from anger."

"Red, black, green, purple... a real pot of overcooked hodgepodge."

"Haha..."

Though light, the laughter in his voice carried the satisfaction of revenge, clearly reaching Lin Jingxia’s ears.

Lin Jingxia suddenly looked up, gazing at her brother’s smiling eyes, so close to her.

Her heartstring, stretched to its absolute limit, finally relaxed with a thud at her brother's understated remark.

"Brother..." Her voice was thick with a nasal tone, and her small hand once again gripped her brother's sleeve tightly.

"Could it be... that the Third Elder... and the people from Black Wind Stockade..."

She was not a foolish person; combining the thrilling events of the past few days, a terrifying truth instantly connected in her mind!

Lin Jingyu’s lips curved into a cold arc: “Mere clowns. Let’s see... how much longer they can jump around. The day of repayment, many times over, is not far off.”

The two siblings walked side by side towards the dilapidated wooden door.

"Creak—"

With a soft sound, the broken wooden door gently closed.

Leaving behind the scattered Spirit Stone fragments, broken fences, wood shavings, and the complex gazes of astonishment, envy, jealousy, and suspicion outside the door... In the Southeast Market Town, the sun gradually rose higher. The clamor of voices rushed over, and the main street was bustling with people, shoulder to shoulder. The low growls of Spirit Beasts, the clanging of Magical Artifacts, the shouts of Cultivators, and the mixed fragrance of spiritual herbs wove together a vibrant tapestry of market life.

Lin Jingyu walked steadily, skillfully navigating through the crowd.

He turned slightly, slipping into a secluded alley shaded by dense green vines.

The alley was long and deep, ending at the circular street that separated the outer and inner areas of the market. As soon as he stepped in, the clamor enveloped him again, but the flow of people was relatively sparser.

Lin Jingyu found his familiar spot from yesterday. He had once again dressed himself in neat clothes and a tall white hat.

He took a deep breath, deliberately adjusting his face into a gentle and proper smile. In the faint sunlight, his posture was as straight as a pine.

The dust and blood of yesterday had been deeply hidden beneath his calm demeanor.

This time, he also placed the remaining hundred-plus sweet potato pills that he hadn't brought last time into a jade box, arranging them one by one on the table covered with white cloth in front of him.

The golden, round pills looked even more enticing against the jade.

Today, his mind wasn't entirely focused on selling.

The Immortal Residence VIP room jade token in his bosom, and the several hundred-year mountain sweet potatoes stored in a jade box deep within his back basket, were the key to this trip.

Especially the latter, which concerned whether he could complete the transaction with that Mysterious Youth. Thinking of the youth, Lin Jingyu’s heart stirred; why would a person of such bearing be so fixated on hundred-year mountain sweet potatoes? There must be a deeper meaning.

"Oh my, who is this? It's the 'master' who sold fifty Spirit Stones yesterday."

A deliberately drawn-out, sourly mocking voice suddenly cut through Lin Jingyu’s thoughts.

Lin Jingyu looked up at the sound, slightly startled.

Standing in front of the opposite stall was a person in a stark white robe, wearing an even taller white pointed hat, with a thick layer of white paste on his face, so eerily white in the sunlight that he looked like a walking “White Wuchang.”

"Hmph," Lin Jingyu secretly sighed, "Good heavens, what's this all about?"

Only after seeing the white jade boxes also displayed on the other person's table, and the two prominent signs — “Wang’s sweet potato pills,” “Twelve Pills for One Spirit Stone” — did he realize it was the Gray-Robed Stall Owner, Wang Jinshan, from yesterday.

Wang Jinshan saw Lin Jingyu looking, and his mouth spread into a grin, revealing two rows of large front teeth, his smile proud and provocative. “Heh heh, how about it? Don’t think you’re the only one who can pull off those flashy, impractical gimmicks.

If I, Wang Jinshan, am going to do it, I’ll do it more purely, more thoroughly than you.”

He exaggeratedly pointed to his pale face and attire: “See? The jade boxes are made of top-grade white suet jade.

And this face of mine is painted with spiritual lacquer mixed with pearl powder. Is it white enough? Is it bright enough?” His tone was full of a mimic’s self-satisfaction.

“What do you have to compare with me? Hahaha…” Wang Jinshan laughed loudly, hands on his hips, his voice high-pitched, drawing the attention of several nearby stall owners, whose eyes were full of amused curiosity.

Lin Jingyu looked at this almost frantic imitation show and was, for a moment, torn between laughter and tears.

He shook his head helplessly, giving a thumbs-up: “Impressive. Fellow Daoist Wang’s learning ability and... innovative spirit are truly astonishing.”

Yet, in his heart, he thought: It’s easy to imitate the form, but difficult to grasp the essence. The value of the sweet potato pills lies in the pure spiritual energy contained within the hundred-year mountain sweet potatoes; this getup is merely icing on the cake, putting the cart before the horse.

And the other party probably still uses the original recipe; ordinary sweet potato pills are just snacks for Cultivators.

How could anyone spend so much money buying them?

With that money, one could order a plate of pastries at a restaurant in the inner area.

The two stalls faced each other, the atmosphere subtle. Time slowly flowed amidst the clamor of the circular street. Neither Lin Jingyu's "lins sweet potato balls" nor Wang Jinshan's painstakingly crafted "Wang's Special Supply" attracted any customers.

The price was several, even tens of times higher than ordinary sweet potato pills, and no wealthy lady or fairy passed by, taking an interest.

Ordinary Cultivators shied away.