From slave trader to the Immortal Lord of Ten Thousand Laws

"Coo coo coo..."

The bright moon hangs high, and the night owl cries out.

Hidden in the abandoned neighborhoods of western Chang'an, Jiang She donned a drab gray cloak, carefully tucking in the herbs that Miss Xu had given him a few days earlier, thinking that someone would surely want them in the ghost market.

He walked around two dark alleys and saw a few eerie green lights in the distance. The stalls were vaguely visible in the mist, but he couldn't hear a single shout.

These are the rules of the ghost market in the capital:

—Just look at the goods, buy if it looks good, don't ask where it comes from.

Upon reaching the entrance, one sees a large man standing on the left and right, one dressed as a horse-faced demon and the other as a bull-headed demon.

They were actually two underworld officials.

"stop!"

A bull-headed figure stood in front, blocking Jiang She's path, and said in a deep voice, "Before entering the Ghost Market, you must pay one tael of silver."

This is the toll; anyone entering the Ghost Market must pay this toll before they can enter.

Jiang She nodded.

He already knew this rule from Jiang She's memory, and at this moment he took out a tael of silver from his sleeve and handed it to Ma Mian.

Horse-faced man weighed the silver in his hand, confirming it was genuine currency used in the Great Qian Dynasty, before glancing at Jiang She:

"Go in."

"The market closes at the hour of Yin (3-5 AM). Please remember this, sir. If you miss the time and are trapped inside, even the most powerful guardians like Ox-Head and Horse-Face will not be able to rescue you."

His words were chilling, sending a shiver down one's spine.

Jiang She nodded and walked into the ghost market.

He stepped through the main gate guarded by Ox-Head and Horse-Face, and into the fog, immediately feeling that his straw sandals were wet.

"This fog is extremely cold."

Jiang She frowned.

Although he had foreseen this from Jiang She's memories, he had a different feeling when he actually stepped into the fog.

Slippery underfoot, Jiang waded forward, forward.

He walked forward along the narrow path that was vaguely visible in the mist. Before him, the green lanterns swayed left and right in the mist, casting slanted shadows on the crooked stalls.

The stall owners, wrapped in dark clothes or hoods, sat silently in the shadows, with all sorts of strange and unusual objects displayed in front of them: unidentifiable animal bones, oddly sealed pottery jars, and some even selling delicate female slaves.

Jiang She didn't intend to buy anything, so he simply lowered his head, found an empty seat, and laid out a few herbs in front of him to sell.

In the ghost market, vendors are not allowed to shout their wares.

Whether the goods can be sold depends entirely on their condition.

Jiang She waited for a while, but didn't sell a single herb.

However, the stall owner next to him had already sold several pottery jars in just half an hour.

The pottery jars were not exquisitely made; in fact, they were unusually rough, with crooked mouths and some unsmoothed mud marks.

It looks like it was hastily sculpted, as if in a rush.

"Master Pharmacist, where is the medicine jar I ordered?"

"That's it."

In the blink of an eye, another medicine jar was sold.

"Shopkeeper, do you have any medicine bottles left?"

Just then, a boy rushed over, wearing a Nuo mask on his head. He squatted down and asked the stall owner a question.

The stall owner didn't even look up, only saying in a muffled voice:

"This medicine pot requires a deposit to be paid in advance, and it can be picked up when the ghost market opens each month, with no extra."

As she spoke, she pointed to the man who had just taken the medicine jar, "If he is willing to sell it to you, I cannot make that decision."

The boy's eyes lit up, and he chased after him, asking, "Brother, would you be so kind as to part with this medicine jar and let me have it?"

"Give it to you?"

The man was pot-bellied and surrounded by four or five burly men; he must be a young nobleman out seeking pleasure.

But the young man was by no means from a poor family. He was dressed in brocade, the fabric of which was soft and made of the finest brocade.

Seeing the man frowning in displeasure, he simply said:

"I would be willing to spend three times the amount to purchase this medicine pot, rather than trouble you with such expense."

"Ha! You think I need this little bit of money from you?"

The man was enraged, his face instantly turning ugly. He said sternly, "If it weren't for the rules of this ghost market, I would have already ordered my strong servants to beat you until your skin was torn and bleeding."

The young man apologized, saying, "I didn't expect that I would be so rude. My father, Zhang Huaizhong, will come to apologize in person."

"Zhang Huaizhong?"

The man was taken aback: "Who is Zhang Zheng?"

"It is indeed my elder brother."

whispering sound!

Everyone gasped in shock, and the several imposing burly slaves were so frightened that they dared not utter a sound.

The young man's clothes and speech were both impressive, and his background was certainly not that of an ordinary person.

not to mention...

Throughout the capital, no one dared to impersonate Zhang Zheng's brother.

Thinking of this, the man quickly smiled apologetically: "So it's the second son of the Zhang family. I was almost blind to his greatness."

"I wouldn't dare."

The boy glanced at the medicine in the man's hand: "Then this medicine..."

"Alas! What's the point of talking about selling!" The man shook his head hastily and said, "The ghost market in the capital values ​​harmony above all else. This medicine pot... I originally bought it to give to Zhang Erlang."

"I never expected to be able to present it to you in person today."

"I am truly overjoyed!"

As he spoke, he presented the medicine pot with both hands.

The young man nodded slightly, took the medicine pot with both hands, and casually slipped a bag of gold beans into the man's hand. He then turned and said:

"I do owe you a favor this time."

The man was overjoyed upon hearing this, thinking that this favor would make him rich. However, he did not expect that the favors from "Zhang Zheng's younger brother" and "Zhang Zheng" were different.

Where some are happy, others are sad.

Jiang She looked at the few medicinal herbs in front of him and thought to himself, "I'm afraid these herbs won't sell."

Instead of being annoyed, he asked the stall owner next to him, "Old man, your medicine pot is really powerful. It has even attracted the second son of the Zhang family in the capital to come here to buy it."

"hehe!"

The old man knew perfectly well that Jiang She was asking him for business advice, so he stretched and said:

"Ugh—I've been squatting for so long, my mouth is really dry."

As he spoke, he glanced at the wine shop across the street.

Jiang She understood immediately, quickly got up, went to the wine shop across the street to buy a pot of wine, and then returned to the old man's side:

"Old man, I have some wine here, please quench your thirst."

"Ah! Young man, you are such a good person."

The old man chuckled as he took the wine jug, tilted his head back, and gulped down a mouthful. Only after satisfying his craving did he wipe his mouth.

He then squinted and asked:

"Young master, what did you just say?"

Jiang She raised his hand in a salute: "I have spoken out of turn, but your medicine pot has truly broadened my horizons, sir."

"Ah, it's nothing but a minor skill."

The old man waved his hand and lowered his head slightly, saying, "This medicine pot is just a recipe passed down from my ancestors. It can strengthen a person's muscles, bones, and blood, which is why those martial artists flock to it."

"But if I were to leave the protection of this ghost market, I would not dare to take it and sell it, lest I make a laughingstock of myself, young master."

"Tch! What are you saying, old man!"

Jiang She shook his head, but a thought suddenly occurred to him.

Something that even Zhang Zheng's younger brother, the gatekeeper of the Great Qian Dynasty, has his eye on must be something extraordinary.

This old man must have been holding something back in his words.

"No wonder they only dare to sell it at the ghost market every month. It turns out they are afraid of being envied and that someone will knock on their door in the middle of the night."

"But they also know how to keep their wealth hidden."

But Jiang She wanted to learn business strategies, not these bottles and jars. He paused, then asked:

"Old man, what's the deal with this bartering business?"

"Wow! That's something big!"

The old man waved his hand: "This is not something you can find out with just a pot of wine."