Some goods on the carts were tightly covered with black cloth, only lifted for buyers to glimpse briefly before whispering to negotiate prices. This aroused Feng Miaojun’s curiosity even more. She squeezed through to a busy stall and discovered they were selling three or four pieces of soul-nurturing wood, one of which even contained the sealed Five Ghost Transportation Technique.

This was among the items officially forbidden for private trade in all countries. After the last cosmic upheaval, the power of reincarnation had strengthened, and newly deceased souls were generally dragged to the underworld to report, with few lingering in the mortal realm. All countries, complying with heaven’s will, prohibited the open sale of soul-nurturing wood to prevent mortals from raising small ghosts or worse—extracting souls to forge magical artifacts.

In ancient times, immortals and demon clans would craft Hundred Soul Banners and Thousand Soul Banners. Such magical implements often required extracting the souls of living beings in shockingly large numbers—utterly unconscionable acts. The most vicious practitioners would face heaven’s lightning strikes on the day of completion. Those extracted souls were typically nurtured in soul-nurturing wood until hundreds or thousands were gathered for refining. Therefore, controlling the quantity of soul-nurturing wood also demonstrated human kingdoms’ determination to suppress evil sorcery.

Of course, in Feng Miaojun’s view, a major reason was that such magical artifacts were too powerful—even low-level cultivators could use them. This was detrimental to human kingdoms’ control over cultivators, which explained why the crackdown had never relaxed.

Fu Lingchuan asked: “How much?” His hand moved like the wind, grabbing one piece to examine in his palm.

His cultivation was profound, and the seller couldn’t stop him in time, quickly shouting: “Hey, don’t touch at random!” He snatched it back.

Feng Miaojun asked curiously: “You don’t allow inspection of goods?”

“You can, but you need to queue up and inspect one by one,” the seller replied irritably. “No more than five breaths each time.”

Everyone complained: “Why do you have so many rules!”

“Don’t blame me!” the seller justified. “Yesterday when I let you inspect freely, someone switched my goods with fakes and stole the real ones!”

Fu Lingchuan coughed lightly: “Doing business here isn’t easy.”

“Indeed!” the seller vented his frustration. “All sorts of lowlifes come here, and just when I make a little money, I have to worry about being robbed.”

“Isn’t there anyone managing this place?” someone asked.

The person who asked this was collectively disdained by everyone.

Having management meant fees would be collected. If Tiger Market also collected taxes, everyone might as well do business in Mituo City.

Feng Miaojun understood that selling such contraband goods wouldn’t receive official protection. She exchanged a glance with Fu Lingchuan, and they squeezed out of the crowd.

“Have you seen enough?”

“It’s getting dark. Let’s eat before returning.” She pointed to a small eatery nearby.

Fu Lingchuan was someone who could endure hardship, but he took only one bite of the steamed bun before giving up—it was hard enough to use as a brick. As for the lamb soup, it had an overpowering gamey smell, making it questionable whether the main ingredient was lamb at all.

Even Feng Miaojun couldn’t finish the soup, though it was very cheap at only three copper coins, which explained why the small shop was packed with customers.

Having seen and tasted enough, she finally decided to head back.

Returning from Tiger Market to Wuse’er City required passing through a large area of dark forest. The carriage they rode today bore no royal insignia—sturdy but low-key. Seven or eight guards accompanied them, led by Chen Dachang, scattered around the carriage to protect their masters.

By now the sun had set, and the forest was so dark that one couldn’t see the undergrowth. Such an environment was perfect for setting traps, so everyone advanced cautiously, as this remote, dense forest was ideal for bandits.

After traveling for nearly half an hour, cries for help suddenly came from ahead.

The voice was projected using mystical arts, resonant and carrying far with the wind.

Fu Lingchuan glanced at Feng Miaojun, who had her eyes closed in rest, and immediately ordered the carriage to stop, telling Chen Dachang: “Go check.”

As Chen Dachang spurred his horse and was about to ride toward the source of the sound, a figure darted out from the forest. Seeing them, he was overjoyed and ran wildly toward them.

Chen Dachang shouted sternly: “Stop!”

The man was young and handsome, though his hair crown was slightly askew and his clothes torn in several places with blood seeping through—truly in a wretched state.

As soon as he stopped, he urgently said: “I’m a lone merchant who encountered bandits following me with intent to rob and kill! Please save me, noble ones, and I will reward you generously!”

No sooner had he finished speaking than twelve or thirteen people emerged from the forest, all murderously aggressive, including two cultivators. They were about to pounce but hesitated upon seeing Chen Dachang’s group.

Feng Miaojun’s companions were all palace guards who, despite wearing casual clothes, possessed a sharp and imposing military bearing completely different from these ruffians. The dozen or so men immediately realized their opponents would be difficult to handle and said directly: “We’re only after this thief, not looking for trouble.” They surged forward to seize the young man.

Feng Miaojun lifted the carriage curtain to look outside, then suddenly ordered: “Save him.”

Chen Dachang always followed her commands with immediate action. The guards spread out, protecting the young man and the carriage in the middle, forming a standoff with the dozen men opposite.

The men opposite shouted angrily: “You’re harboring a thief? He stole our spirit stones.”

The young man cursed back: “You keep calling me a thief, but you’re the robbers! You’ve followed me from Tiger Market to steal my valuables!”

Chen Dachang remained unmoved, a silver flash appearing in his palm as he summoned his long sword. He said to the dozen men: “Leave, or don’t blame us for being impolite.”

Though his side had fewer people, their presence was stronger, and this move demonstrated his status as a cultivator. The other side glared at them for a few moments but was unwilling to take the risk. Their leader waved his hand and said: “Let’s go!”

The group retreated like a receding tide, and soon the forest returned to silence.

The young man wiped the sweat from his brow and declared loudly toward the carriage: “Thank you, noble ones, for your righteous assistance.”

He had realized that Chen Dachang had helped him at the request of someone in the carriage.

Then a female voice came from within the carriage, clear and delicate, causing anyone who heard it to feel a ripple in their heart: “Come in.”

“Ah… yes.” He froze for a moment, somehow feeling an ominous premonition. But surrounded by the guards, he could only slowly approach.

Chen Dachang personally opened the carriage door, and with a glance, the young man saw a man and a woman sitting opposite each other inside.

The man was even more handsome than himself, with the bearing of a noble young master, leisurely sipping from a cup.

The woman across from him was so beautiful it made one dizzy, like a celestial maiden descended to the mortal world, her wonderful eyes glinting with a half-smile directed at him.

The young man seemed electrified and froze.

Not only because she was so beautiful, but also because…

He had seen this stunning beauty before!

He opened and closed his mouth, retreating two steps to flee, but two guards rushed up to block his path, saying nothing.

Feng Miaojun’s smile deepened, and she said gently: “Come up and sit. I won’t harm your life.”

This was truly a case of escaping the wolf’s den only to enter the tiger’s lair. But with no way to retreat, he could only steel himself and climb into the carriage.

The carriage wheels rumbled as it started moving again.

Inside the carriage, Feng Miaojun smiled at Fu Lingchuan: “State Preceptor, this is the son of the former Imperial Astronomy Bureau, Zuo Qiuyuan, a renowned talent of our time.”