30: The stall owner in the north is also a madman

The night was cool like water, and in the temporary camp at the foot of Mount Longhu, bonfires crackled, illuminating the solemn faces of the crowd.

Zhang Xuanyi's mood, however, was colder than the frigid night; the Old Accountant's words were like a heavy hammer, shattering his thirty-one years of understanding.

He slowly opened his palm, and the rusty copper coin lay quietly there, seemingly still retaining the lingering warmth of the Old Accountant's fingertips.

He had always believed that this elusive old man was the guide of the Dao Market, the embodiment of some rule, but he had never thought that he was also a guardian, a messenger burdened with a heavy promise.

"Nine Markets become one, all methods are then complete..." Zhang Xuanyi murmured, his gaze falling upon his seemingly ordinary stall cloth.

That 'Qi- Patterned fabric' (Qi-Pattern Cloth Fragment), unexpectedly obtained from the Chapter 21 incident, was now perfectly embedded in the gap of the stall, forming a complete star map.

Across the land of Huaxia, nine points of light glowed brilliantly, like stars fallen to earth.

Their arrangement was mysterious and unfathomable, subtly forming a giant array, and the array's core was Mount Longhu, right beneath their feet.

At the northernmost end, that slightly dim but incredibly resilient point of light was marked with three characters—Luo Hun Valley.

"Your master... has been waiting for you for thirty-one years."

"He didn't leave; he's guarding that place, waiting for someone who can take over his stall."

Though the Old Accountant's figure had vanished, his words were branded into Zhang Xuanyi's sea of consciousness like an engraving.

That carefree master who taught him how to draw talismans, how to be a person, and taught him that "the Dao is among humans, not in the clouds"—that man who always seemed so cynical, who said he was going to seek out the world's finest wines and most beautiful scenery—had actually been guarding a desolate, snow-covered place alone for thirty-one years?

What was he guarding? What was he waiting for?

"So..." Su Qingzhu broke the silence. She looked at the stunned Zhang Xuanyi, murmuring, as if asking him, and as if asking herself, "Your master... he's also running a stall?"

One sentence enlightened everyone.

A Dao Market stall owner, a mysterious and powerful identity.

They had originally thought Zhang Xuanyi was the only one, at least the only one in this generation.

But now it seemed that in the extreme cold of the northern reaches, there was another stall, one that had been held for thirty-one years.

Seven days later, the northern reaches.

The biting cold wind cut across everyone's cheeks like knives; the world was a vast expanse.

The team finally arrived at Luo Hun Valley marked on the map.

It was shrouded in thick white mist year-round, with extremely low visibility, as if even light and sound would be swallowed by this silent white fog.

Deep within, one's soul felt an inexplicable suppression, no wonder it was named "Soul Falling."

At the mouth of the valley, a crooked, dilapidated wooden sign stood in the wind and snow, with a line of bold, unrestrained characters written in ink, their edges somewhat blurred by the erosion of the wind and snow.

"Today, I don't sell immortality, only trade for a joke."

Zhang Xuanyi's pupils suddenly contracted!

This handwriting!

This tone!

This cynical yet melancholic brushwork was identical to that of his unreliable, carefree master deep in his memories!

He could even imagine his master, back then, laughing heartily while drinking cheap wine as he carved this wooden sign.

"It's him... it really is him..." Zhang Xuanyi's voice carried a hint of imperceptible tremor.

Everyone exchanged glances; the heavy stone in their hearts felt half-lifted, yet half-suspended.

Finding the person was a good thing, but this legendary master seemed even more... unconventional than they had imagined.

The team trudged through ankle-deep snow, enduring the biting wind, and walked deeper into the valley.

The further they went, the thicker the mist became, and the colder the air grew.

Just as everyone was about to lose their way, a faint flicker of firelight pierced through the thick fog in the center of the snowy ground ahead.

As they drew closer, everyone froze.

In the center of the snowy ground, there was indeed a stall.

A tattered cloth, with several charred marks on its edges, as if it had been through a raging fire.

On the cloth, four large characters were written in the same unrestrained brushwork—Myriad Laws Street Stall.

A man in a faded Daoist robe sat kneeling behind the stall, his back to them.

His figure was somewhat hunched, and his head of white hair was casually tied with a simple wooden hairpin, flying wildly in the wind.

He was tremblingly placing several bottles of what he called "Pseudo-Three Caverns True Qi Liquid" onto the stall with a pair of hands that were red with cold and almost stiff.

But the bottles were murky, and the labels were handwritten with a brush, crooked and with varying ink depths, so crudely made that they couldn't compare to the imitations Zhang Xuanyi himself had made when he first practiced.

The Iron Lady's eyes narrowed, and she whispered, "Be careful, it might be a trick. This man's aura is as profound as an abyss, unfathomable, yet he's selling such shoddy fakes. An anomaly like this must be demonic."

Shen Zhao, however, did not speak. He stared intently at the figure's back, his brows tightly furrowed. After a moment, he said in a voice filled with extreme surprise, "He... he isn't wearing a mask, but I can't see his face clearly."

Everyone was startled by his words and focused their gaze.

Indeed, the stall owner clearly wore no covering, yet his face seemed shrouded in a thick mist. No matter from what angle they looked, it remained blurry, as if his facial features simply didn't exist in this dimension.

This feeling was even more bizarre and unsettling than wearing a mask.

Zhang Xuanyi took a deep breath, suppressing the myriad thoughts in his heart, and slowly stepped forward, stopping three paces from the stall. He cupped his hands toward the figure's back and said in a clear voice, "Senior, you run a Myriad Laws Street Stall, yet you sell fakes. Aren't you afraid of tarnishing the 'Wanfa' brand?"

His voice echoed in the silent snowy valley, carrying a hint of questioning and a hint of probing.

The stall owner paused in his action of arranging the bottles but did not turn around. He merely responded in an old and hoarse voice, "Real goods? Humph, your stall, which collects people's aspirations and grants their wishes, sells the truly false Dao."

Before his words finished, he suddenly turned around!

An invisible wave of Qi rushed toward them, causing Zhang Xuanyi and the others to tremble with shock.

The man's face was still blurry like mist, but only his eyes, piercing through that layer of fog, were clear like stars in a cold night, so profound that they seemed to reflect the Nine Heavens' Milky Way.

Those eyes stared intently at Zhang, filled with scrutiny, sorrow, and a hint of... deep-seated expectation.

"You collect the aspirations of believers, building castles in the air; I collect the true hearts of the world, in exchange for a corner of peace. You build a market, intending to gather the world's destiny; I guard the ruins, only to suppress nine remnant souls. You tell me, between you and me, who is real? Who is fake?"

His voice was not loud, yet every word was like thunder, reverberating deep within Zhang Xuanyi's soul.

Just then, Xiao Man, who had been hiding behind Su Qingzhu, suddenly began to tremble all over. Her small face was pale, and she pointed in the direction of the stall owner, screaming in a tearful voice, "Shadows... behind him... he has nine shadows behind him... and every shadow is crying!"

Hearing this, Zhang Xuanyi was horrified and immediately activated his spiritual vision!

In his field of vision, the entire world transformed into an ocean of Qi.

And around the stall owner before him, nine illusory and twisted dark figures were clearly entwined!

These were not ordinary vengeful spirits; each dark figure emanated an aura originating from the "Myriad Laws Street Stall" itself. They wailed and struggled, filled with endless pain and unwillingness.

These... these were actually the remnant souls of successive "Dao Market stall owners"!

His master wasn't guarding a stall; he was using his own body to suppress the remnant Daoist lineages left behind by the failures of nine generations of predecessors!

【Ding!】

A cold system prompt boomed in Zhang Xuanyi's mind.

【Main node resonance detected. The Wanfa Gui Shi (All Methods Return to Market) channel has met the activation conditions.】

【Activation requirement: Both stall owners complete 'Dao Heart Mutual Recognition'.】

Snow fell heavily, and the wind whimpered.

Unbeknownst to them, the two had already sat opposite each other by the bonfire.

The stall owner, or rather, Xiaoyaozi, handed over a bowl of coarse tea brewed with snow water; the rim of the bowl was chipped.

His face remained blurry, but a hint of weariness showed in his clear eyes.

"Your master, I, was once like you, full of youthful vigor, thinking that with this Dao Market, I could save the world from suffering," he took a sip of hot tea, his voice hoarse as if two stones were grinding together, "As a result, the Dao Market collapsed, and nine people who believed in me, who followed me, not one survived. Their Daoist lineages and their unwillingness were all pressed upon me."

He pointed to his back, where the nine remnant souls, invisible to ordinary people, were silently roaring.

"From that day on, I dared not believe in 'wishes' anymore. Aspirations are too vast, too ethereal; if one cannot bear them, they will backfire. I only dare to collect 'true hearts,' the purest, simplest, unrequited true hearts." He laughed self-deprecatingly, "Even if it's just for a not-so-funny joke, it's more real than those vague, grand aspirations to save the world."

Zhang Xuanyi fell silent.

He finally understood why his master had to guard this place, why he had to run a stall in this manner.

This was not playing at life, but a profound self-exile and atonement.

After a long while, Zhang Xuanyi took out the copper coin the Old Accountant had left him from his Huai, and without speaking, he gently placed it on the snow between them.

The coldness of the copper coin contrasted sharply with the warmth of the fire.

"But if no one in the world believes first, then where do aspirations come from?"

He looked up, his gaze burning as he looked at his nominal father, his actual master.

"The spark must always be lit by someone first. Even if it might be blown out by the wind, even if it might burn oneself, someone has to do it."

With that, he tore off a piece of "Heart Imprint Yellow Paper" from his sleeve, bit his fingertip, and used his blood as ink, quickly sketching on the yellow paper.

He wasn't drawing some profound talisman, but the first talisman Xiaoyaozi had taught him to draw in that dilapidated Daoist temple thirty years ago—the Pure Heart Talisman.

The brushwork was naive, yet filled with memories and filial reverence.

After finishing, he did not activate any spiritual power, but like an ordinary child, he gently placed this talisman paper, which carried his earliest memories, onto the charred "Myriad Laws Street Stall."

"This talisman is not for spirit coin, not for aspirations, nor does it seek any true heart." Zhang Xuanyi's voice was very soft, yet incredibly firm, "Just consider it... a son's filial piety to his father."

Buzz—!

That dilapidated stall cloth, the moment the talisman paper landed, actually trembled slightly, and the four characters "Myriad Laws Street Stall" on the cloth glowed with an almost imperceptible golden light.

Xiaoyaozi reached out his hand, trembling, and picked up the thin talisman paper.

As his fingertips touched the still-wet bloodstains on the talisman paper, two lines of hot, clear tears, piercing through the mist, rolled down his perpetually blurry face.

The nine painful, roaring remnant souls behind him, at this moment, all quieted down, emitting faint whispers, like sighs, and like liberation.

In an instant, the tattered stall cloth beneath Xiaoyaozi slowly rose, glowing with brilliant golden light, echoing the star map stall in Zhang Xuanyi's sleeve from afar. Two forces, originating from the same source yet distinctly different, converged and resonated in the air!

【Ding! Dao Heart Mutual Recognition complete!】

【Wanfa Gui Shi (All Methods Return to Market) channel... activated!】

The system sound was like thunder from the nine heavens, roaring in Zhang Xuanyi's sea of consciousness!

Just then, an unexpected change occurred!

Xiaoyaozi suddenly looked up, his tear stains still wet in his eyes, but a fierce and unparalleled battle intent flashed through them!

He suddenly raised his hand and struck a palm, without warning, towards Zhang Xuanyi's chest!

The Qi force was violent, yet condensed and unscattered, carrying a resolute determination to "break and then establish"!

Before the palm wind reached him, his low and powerful voice already rang out:

"You want to take over my stall? You want to bear the karma of these nine hundred years?"

"Good boy... first defeat your father!"

Zhang Xuanyi was struck as if by lightning; a mouthful of blood spewed out, and his body flew backward, crashing heavily into the snow.

But he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, looked up, and instead of anger or shock, a brilliant smile bloomed on his face.

"Alright... Dad!"

"This time, I won't let you guard it alone until your hair turns white again!"

In the swirling wind and snow, two generations of stall owners stood facing each other.

One stall, ancient and weathered, suppressed nine generations of tragic songs; the other stall, a brilliant star map, carried thousands of new aspirations.

The two "Myriad Laws Street Stalls" fiercely collided in the center of Luo Hun Valley, and the golden light that shot up into the sky tore through the thick mist that had shrouded the valley for centuries, piercing the firmament, as if a transaction that had been interrupted for nine hundred years was finally restarting today!

The energy of the light pillar permeated heaven and earth, and the "Return to One" Dao rhyme it contained, like an invisible ripple, instantly swept across the entire Huaxia, crossed mountains, traversed rivers, and even spread towards the boundless distance.

However, the two individuals at the center of the storm did not realize that this call of return not only awakened dormant Daoist lineages but also disturbed certain... more ancient hungers lurking in the deepest, darkest corners of the world.