"Ten low-grade spirit stones to enter." The guard announced in a dull tone as he noticed someone approaching. However, when he lifted his gaze, a shiver of recognition ran down his spine.
Before him stood a man with a sly smile watching him intently. His heart pounded as he recalled a cunning merchant who had nearly stripped him of his last pair of underpants once.
The guard narrowed his eyes, suspicious.
"Hello, brother!" Elder Bao rubbed his hands together like a mischievous rat and put on his best smile.
"It's ten stones." The guard cut off any attempt at conversation, remaining alert.
Bao Hui realized that this man was on the defensive, and as a mere gate guard, he had no authority to offer discounts. Sighing, he gave up on bargaining.
Reluctantly, he reached into his storage pouch, which contained around 700 spirit stones.
"Brother, here you go!" He extended his closed fist, but his smile was obviously forced.
The guard held his hand underneath Bao Hui's, waiting for the weight of the stones… which never came.
Confused, he looked at Bao Hui's still-clenched hand, then at his sly, fox-like face.
"Give it!" The guard demanded.
"It's here!" Bao Hui replied, still keeping his fist closed.
The guard's patience ran out. He lunged forward and grabbed Bao Hui's hand.
And so, a ridiculous scene unfolded at the mountain gate.
On one side, a man with veins bulging on his forehead struggled to keep his hand closed. On the other, a guard with veins popping in his neck fought to pry it open.
"Open it!"
"I'm trying! I think I got a cramp! My hand won't open!"
"What kind of excuse is that?!"
"It's a serious condition! No cure!"
"The only serious condition here is your stinginess!!"
After much struggle, the guard finally pried Bao Hui's hand open and smiled victoriously—only to freeze in place immediately after.
There was only one spirit stone in his palm.
"You bastard! There's only one stone here!"
"I have a serious case of OCD! I can only take one item out of my storage pouch at a time! Here's the next one!"
"You bastard!"
And so, this ridiculous battle repeated nine more times.
In the end, the guard watched triumphantly as Bao Hui entered the city, shoulders slumped, face dark—yet, to his surprise, without a single complaint.
His colleague, who had been watching from afar, approached with an intrigued expression.
"Hey, Brother Xu, I have a question."
"Hahaha! Go ahead!" The guard laughed, still relishing his victory.
But the next sentence made him freeze.
"Wouldn't it have been easier to just deny him entry until he paid everything in one go of his own accord?"
And the next one made him want to punch someone.
"Also, I'm pretty sure that on the sixth time, his hand was empty… So you miscounted and only charged him nine spirit stones. That's definitely coming out of your salary."
"..."
…
Bao Hui whistled cheerfully as he walked away from the gates.
Soon, he stopped upon noticing a commotion up ahead.
"Xiao Ling! You know who my father is! He's a perfected Qi Refiner! How dare you refuse to marry me?!" A well-dressed young master, his face swollen with arrogance, confronted a cold beauty.
She opened her mouth to respond but froze upon seeing a middle-aged man with a fox-like face appear behind the young master, patting him on the shoulder.
"That's right, Miss Xiao!" The man suddenly chimed in, startling the young master. But his next words brought him joy:
"You have no idea what a great match you're missing out on! Marrying the young master, you wouldn't have to worry about a thing!"
"That's right! Anyone who isn't blind can see that! Why can't you?" The young master repeated arrogantly.
The middle-aged man stroked his long mustache and nodded as if in agreement before vanishing into the crowd.
The last thing Xiao Ling saw was a familiar storage pouch dangling between the man's fingers.
Her gaze dropped to the young master's waist.
He noticed her look and smirked smugly.
"See? Are you reconsidering your answer?"
Xiao Ling had to try very hard not to laugh.
…
"Two young masters in a row! What luck!" Bao Hui murmured to himself, a satisfied grin on his face.
After gathering some information, he soon found his next target: a bustling treasure pavilion.
He walked in as if he owned the place, confidence radiating from his posture. His sharp eyes quickly spotted a distracted attendant, and he approached.
The poor girl jolted upon noticing his presence.
"H-Hello, sir! How may I assist you?" She tried to maintain her composure, but her eyes betrayed her nervousness as she looked at the fox-faced man.
Customers like him were the worst. If she wasn't careful and got tricked, a major loss could mean the end of her career.
"Foundation Establishment techniques. If you have any, what's the price of the cheapest one?" Bao Hui asked without hesitation, his voice firm, making no effort to lower his tone.
A few customers glanced over, but upon noticing he was only at the fourth stage of Qi Refinement and dressed in simple clothes, they lost interest.
The attendant, however, did not dare look down on him. She knew people like this were not foolish. Taking a deep breath, she responded with as much professionalism as possible.
"Sir, our Black Rock Mountain branch has five Qi Refinement techniques. The cheapest costs 5,000 mid-grade spirit stones."
Bao Hui didn't even blink. He had expected something in that range.
As for the value of the stones, in his past life, Aotian had read about this countless times, and later confirmed it was the same in this world through Rihai's explanations:
A single mid-grade spirit stone was worth 100 low-grade ones.
Not that its energy was literally a hundred times greater—in practice, it was at most ten times stronger—but its purity justified the exorbitant price.
If a low-level cultivator took ten days to absorb ten low-grade spirit stones, they could absorb a single mid-grade one in just one day.
It might seem like a small difference, but for cultivators, time was the most valuable resource.
'500,000 low-grade stones… I need to find a way.' Bao Hui pondered.
He quickly changed his approach.
"Understood. What about cultivation concealment techniques? Price?"
…
Moments later, Bao Hui left empty-handed but with a smug smile on his face.
The attendant remained behind the counter, blinking a few times, trying to process what had just happened.
All her mental preparation had been for nothing.
He didn't buy anything. Nothing!
…
As he strolled through the city, Bao Hui decided he needed information.
And where better to find it than in a tavern?
This particular one was dark and gloomy.
Unlike mortal taverns, where rowdy drunkards and thugs exchanged punches, this one was filled with hooded cultivators sitting in groups, whispering in hushed tones.
The atmosphere was heavy.
Or at least, it had been—until the door swung open.
All eyes turned to the man who marched toward the counter as if he owned the place, a permanent fox-like grin on his face.
Without hesitation, he sat down and arrogantly declared:
"Give me your best beer. And I want information on spirit mines or anything dangerous that offers quick profit. Do that, and this is yours."
With a dramatic gesture, Bao Hui slammed his hand on the table, then lifted it to reveal something shiny.
The tavern keeper's eyes widened, greed flashing across his face as he examined the item.
Then, he froze.
"The hell?! This is just a low-grade spirit stone! That doesn't even cover the drink!"