Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

Five silver dollars for a bowl of tea—that's outrageously expensive.

On the ground, five silver dollars would be enough for an average family to eat for a month.

Chen Mo didn't haggle. He counted out five silver dollars from his pocket and stacked them on the low table.

The woman reached out and gathered the silver coins one by one in front of her.

Her hands were very white, as white as porcelain.

The fingers have an extra joint compared to normal people, and each finger can bend in any direction.

Chen Mo stared at her hand for half a second before looking away.

The woman picked up a silver coin, put it to her lips, and blew on it.

After confirming that it was genuine, he put the silver dollar into the black jar under the low table, picked up the earthenware pot, and poured tea into an earthenware bowl.

The tea flowed from the spout, its color jet black, but its aroma was surprisingly refreshing.

There was no heat on the surface of the tea soup; instead, a thin layer of white mist was slowly sinking.

The woman pushed the bowl towards her and made a "please" gesture.

"I'll return the bowl to you later."

Chen Mo picked up the bowl, turned around and walked back.

He glanced down at the tea in the bowl; the white mist on the surface of the tea was still sinking, and the bowl felt icy cold to the touch.

The living can only drink one bowl, while the dead can drink half a bowl?

The old man was still squatting in the same spot. When he saw him return with a teacup, a glimmer of light flashed in his cloudy eyes.

He drank half a bowl in one gulp before letting out a long sigh.

"That feels good."

"This woman's tea is so addictive, I can't get enough of it. Even though I know she adds something to it, I still want to drink it."

Chen Mo glanced at the half-bowl of black water remaining in the teacup and said nothing.

The old man noticed his gaze, grinned, and drank the remaining half bowl of tea in one gulp before raising his sleeve to wipe the corner of his mouth.

Black tea stains clung to his grayish-white stubble, resembling dried blood.

"You didn't come down to the underworld just for a stroll, did you?"

"I have a few small items I'd like to sell. Would you mind taking a look at them, senior?"

As Chen Mo spoke, he took off the package from his back.

The package was opened, revealing several items wrapped separately in oil paper and cloth.

"Oh?"

The old man didn't say much, and lowered his head to look at those items.

He picked up the cutter, examined it several times, and then lightly scraped the blade with his thumb.

The blade did not cut his skin; instead, it emitted a slight buzzing sound.

"It's from a knife-selling peddler." The old man nodded. "Genuine. Where did you get it?"

"A gift from a friend."

The old man glanced at Chen Mo but didn't press further. "His sword aura is very strong; it can sell for around two thousand magic coins."

He picked up the black Ghost card again, and paused for a moment as soon as his fingers touched the card.

"This is......?"

He brought the wooden sign close to his eyes and squinted at it for a long time.

"The Order of a Hundred Ghosts"

"The Meishan lineage's exclusive magical artifact is actually in your hands. Did you kill those two Meishan Fiends?"

Chen Mo felt a chill run down his spine and did not answer immediately.

The old man seemed to sense his wariness and waved his hand: "Don't worry, I have no connection with those people from Meishan. Those two bastards went around capturing living people to create ghosts; they deserved to die. You did well."

"There's no stock left, so it can only sell for around a thousand."

He shook his head, put down the wooden plaque, and picked up the string of remnant soul beads, twisting them one by one.

"Eighteen Soul Remnant Beads, of average quality, probably worth about a hundred or eighty magic coins."

The last item is a protective amulet armor.

The old man picked it up and weighed it in his hand.

"It's worn out too much; it can only be used two or three more times at most."

"However, these protective magical artifacts are easy to sell and can be worth more than a thousand."

The old man put the four items back on the rag and looked up at Chen Mo.

"The knife from the italicist costs around two thousand coins. An empty Hundred Ghosts Token costs between eight hundred and one thousand. A Remnant Soul Pearl costs one hundred and eighty."

"Even with the protective amulet armor worn like this, it's still worth over a thousand." He counted on his fingers, "If you sell all of these items, you could make over four thousand magic coins, which is quite a windfall."

Chen Mo nodded, memorizing these numbers.

"But if you want to sell quickly, don't set up your stall near the entrance of the ghost market."

"Go further in, past that dead-end ravine, there's a big collector of magical artifacts, surnamed Zhao, known as Zhao the Half-City."

"That old man has a lot of money and a sharp eye; he should be interested in these things of yours."

"Thank you for your guidance, sir." Chen Mo cupped his hands in thanks, retied the package, and slung it over his shoulder.

"Go ahead, go ahead."

The old man waved his hand, picked up his pipe again, and started puffing away. "Remember, don't look up at the sky, don't touch anything, and don't talk to anything that looks too strange. Get back upstairs as soon as you're done."

"Thank you for your guidance, senior."

Chen Mo cupped his hands in greeting to him, then slung his cloth bag over his shoulder and walked deeper into the ghost market.

The crimson moon overhead was still slowly rotating, turning the entire market a vibrant red.

Chen Mo deliberately avoided looking up, keeping his gaze straight ahead, focusing only on the stalls and passageways.

The further you go in, the more lively the market becomes.

The distance between the stalls became narrower and narrower, and the aisle, which could accommodate three or four people walking side by side, became only wide enough for one person to squeeze through.

The goods on the stall were becoming increasingly varied, and Chen Mo couldn't tell what use some of them were.

On a stall to the left, dozens of fist-sized earthenware jars were neatly stacked, their mouths sealed with yellow paper.

The stall owner was an old woman who was so hunched over that her spine looked as if it had been broken in the middle. Her upper and lower body were stacked together, and her face was almost touching the ground.

When she looked up at Chen Mo, his face was upside down, with his chin on top and his forehead below, and a pair of grayish-white eyes staring at him from below his eyebrows.

His lips parted into a wide grin, revealing an upside-down smile.

"Hey buddy, wanna buy a jar?"

"A top-quality soul-nourishing jar, once filled with a soul, will not dissipate for ten years."

Chen Mo shook his head and quickened his pace to walk over.

A group of human-like things were gathered around a stall on the right. They were in various shapes and sizes. Some barely maintained a human shape, while others had been twisted into an indescribable lump of flesh.

Chen Mo peeked through the crack and saw several fist-sized, dark blue stones on the stall, with liquid seemingly flowing slowly on their surfaces.

The stall owner was a middle-aged man who looked fairly normal. He was wearing a faded gray cloth long gown and was tapping one of the stones with a small hammer.

Each time it was struck, the stone made a sound like a bell.

"Blue Tear Stone, just dug out from below. Carrying it will keep your mind clear and prevent you from being corrupted by the Crimson Moon," the stall owner shouted at the top of his lungs. "One stone costs three hundred magic coins. Limited quantity, first come, first served!"

The onlookers made all sorts of strange noises, as if they were bargaining.

Chen Mo didn't stop and squeezed through the edge of the crowd.

Walking further ahead, the passageway suddenly opened up. Announcement: Upcoming update, please stay tuned!

A black ravine, about ten feet wide, stretched out before us, filled with churning black mist that obscured its bottom.

A narrow stone slab bridge spans the ditch, with only enough space for one person to pass at a time and no railings.

On the other side of the bridge, the stalls were noticeably sparser, but each stall occupied a larger area, and the goods were displayed more elaborately.

This is probably what the old man meant by "dead end gully".

Chen Mo stepped onto the stone slab bridge. The surface was cold and hard underfoot, completely different from the elastic ground in other parts of the Ghost Market.

When he reached the middle of the bridge, he couldn't help but glance down. In the depths of the ravine, black mist surged, and something was wriggling in the mist, occasionally revealing a thick limb, which was quickly swallowed up by the mist.

He didn't look around much and quickly crossed the bridge.

The world on this side of the bridge is indeed different.

There are fewer stalls, but each stall owner looks more normal, at least in appearance they are more human.

There were none of those misaligned facial features or distorted bodies.

Chen Mo knew that this was not because they had not been corrupted by the Red Moon, but because they were strong enough to maintain their own form.

His gaze swept across the various stalls, searching for Zhao Bancheng, the man the old man had mentioned.

He hadn't walked far when he stopped in front of a large stall.

This stall occupies a square area of ​​about two or three zhang (approximately 6.6-7 meters), and is filled with all kinds of ritual implements and materials, a dazzling array, neatly arranged.

Behind the stall sat a man who looked to be in his fifties, with a fat build, wearing a black jacket with a silk fabric.

She wore three rings of different styles on her hand, each with a subtle shimmering light.

His face was round and rosy, and at first glance, he looked no different from a wealthy old man in the mortal world.

Next to the stall stood a wooden sign with three large characters written on it: "Zhao Family Stall".

It must be him.

Chen Mo walked up to the stall, and the fat man looked up at him.

"A living person?"

"It's rare to see someone like this, please have a seat." He pointed to a small stool in front of the stall.

Chen Mo didn't stand on ceremony. He sat on a stool, opened the package, and took out the four items one by one, placing them on the stall.

The fat man didn't rush to make a move. Instead, he first scanned him from top to bottom and then frowned slightly.

"Not bad, no wonder you dared to come down alone."

"You flatter me, senior," Chen Mo said neither humbly nor arrogantly.

The fat man then looked down at those items.

He picked up the knife, examined it for a dozen breaths, and then stuck out his snake-like tongue and licked the blade.

"A fine knife," he exclaimed. "It's rare to see a knife from a peddler with such a strong aura. Two thousand two hundred magic coins, I'll take it."

Chen Mo was overjoyed; it was two hundred more than the old man had estimated.

But he remained expressionless and simply nodded.

The fat man picked up the Hundred Ghosts Decree again.

"The Meishan Hundred Ghosts Token is just an empty shell. All the ghosts inside have been released, leaving only this token." He put the wooden token down. "However, the token itself is a valuable item. Although most of the methods for refining it have been lost, the basics remain. It's worth eight hundred magic coins."

Chen Mo nodded.

The fat man also gave prices for the Residual Soul Bead and the Protective Amulet Armor: 90 magic coins for the Residual Soul Bead and 1,100 magic coins for the Protective Amulet Armor.

The four items together amount to a total of 4,290 coins.

Chen Mo didn't haggle; he had asked Fatty's grandmother to help estimate the price of these items beforehand.

Very close.

"The whole number is four thousand three."

The fat man took out a black cloth bag from under the stall, untied the bag, and found it full of Buddhist money.

He counted out four thousand three hundred coins, wrapped them in a black cloth, and pushed them to the front of the stall.

Chen Mo scanned the area with his divine sense; the number was just right.

"Senior, I'd like to buy a few more things." He put away the money and didn't leave immediately. "Do you have any Yin talisman paper?"

The fat man glanced at him, then pulled out a wooden box from under the stall. Inside were hundreds of neatly stacked talismans.

The color of these talisman papers is not the common yellow, but a dark gray that is almost black, with faint, fine silver lines on the surface, like some kind of veins.

"These are talisman paper made from the underworld's special bamboo, ten times better than the best yellow paper in the mortal realm. Three coins per sheet, how many do you want?"

"Give me a hundred first."

The fat man counted out one hundred bills, wrapped them in an oiled paper, and handed them over.

Chen Mo took it and counted out three hundred coins from the package to pay the bill.

He bought five small bottles of the finest blood cinnabar, each costing ten coins, spending another fifty.

After buying everything, he re-tied the package.

"Senior, I have another question to ask you."

"explain."

"I'd like to take a stroll through the ghost market. Is there anything I should be aware of?"

The fat man glanced at him, a hint of a smile flashing in his eyes.

"You have magical power within you, so your yang energy won't be lost. You don't need to worry about that."

"But the Red Moon doesn't just erode yang energy; it also erodes the mind. Look at those who turn into monsters—it's not that their yang energy is gone, it's that their brains are damaged first."

"So don't stay in the ghost market for too long, nobody can predict what will happen there."

Chen Mo nodded, cupped his hands in farewell, and took his leave.

After leaving Zhao Bancheng's stall, he didn't rush back, but instead strolled slowly along the stalls on the Duantougou side.

The goods here are of a much higher quality than those on the other side of the bridge. Chen Mo even had his eyes on some of the items, but the prices were also shockingly high.

He hadn't walked far when a stall caught his attention.

The stall wasn't big, but it was arranged very elaborately.

A black wooden table covered with dark red velvet cloth held several items neatly arranged on it, each in a separate brocade box.

The stall owner was an old Taoist priest who looked to be in his seventies or eighties. His hair was gray and he wore it in a topknot, which was held up with a jade hairpin.

The old Taoist priest had a thin face with high cheekbones, but a ruddy complexion, quite different from the pale figures in the ghost market.

He closed his eyes, as if meditating or dozing, seemingly indifferent to everything around him.

Chen Mo squatted down in front of his stall.

His heart skipped a beat when he glanced at the contents of the brocade box.

In the first brocade box on the left, there lies a talisman.

The talisman paper was not the common yellow, but a nearly transparent jade white, with a fine texture, like jade that had been rolled into thin sheets.

Around the talisman, faint blue arcs of electricity flickered, emitting a soft "crackling" sound.

Heavenly Thunder Talisman.

Chen Mo had seen the scarred-faced Zhenyi Division use a similar Heavenly Thunder Talisman before, but that one was clearly not as good as this one.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and shifted his gaze to the second brocade box.

The lid of the brocade box was engraved with three small characters: "Stabilizing Pill".

Chen Mo's heart skipped a beat again.

The Mind-Stabilizing Pill is a special pill taken when breaking through a cultivation level. It can protect the mind and resist inner demons.

Would a pill of this caliber even appear in the Ghost Market?

He had heard of this elixir during his training at the Zhenyi Division; it was a very rare substance.