The shop assistant Xiao Zhuo was dazed by that radiant smile, until the shopkeeper elbowed him, causing him to cry out in surprise, “Ah!”

Immediately embarrassed and annoyed, he snapped, “What are you smiling at? Can’t you act normal?! Do you have any idea how frightening your disguise technique is?”

Wei Ping innocently spread his hands. “That’s because I haven’t mastered it yet. When my energy slips, my appearance changes too.”

After saying this, he transformed back into his ordinary, disheveled hooligan appearance.

Anyone passing by wouldn’t spare him a second glance.

That captivating smile from moments ago seemed to have never existed.

“I’ll be going now, no more scaring you!”

The shopkeeper raised one sleeve, firmly blocking his path.

“Leave the sword behind. I want to show it to the old master.”

“A broken sword for ten spirit stones, what’s there to see?” Wei Ping scoffed. Seeing the shopkeeper’s cold expression refusing to yield, he suddenly sprang up on his toes, his body leaping into the air like an arrow shot from a bow, rushing toward the entrance.

His movement came without warning, leaving only the sound of his laughter:

“That old man once said he wanted me to be the future young master, have you forgotten? The young master buying a sword is nothing to fuss about!”

Hearing this, Xiao Zhuo widened his eyes in disbelief, truly suspecting this man’s face was thicker than the walls of Huawei City.

However, despite Wei Ping’s acrobatics—silently flipping over beams and stepping on tables, changing through dozens of lightness techniques in an instant—there was always a sleeve blocking his path.

The shopkeeper smiled coldly, his Golden Core pressure subtly emanating: “The master also said you would be the young master only if you learned his calligraphy techniques. As long as you refuse to learn, you are nothing!”

Both were trapped in the small pawnshop, mindful of many constraints, neither daring to release their energy and cause a disturbance.

Wei Ping was finally forced to land, cursing loudly: “You people from the Calligraphy Sage’s lineage are too overbearing! Forcing people in business and forcing disciples too?”

“Hey, you good-for-nothing!”

Just as Xiao Zhuo rolled up his sleeves, Wei Ping clutched his chest dramatically: “Don’t hit me, my heart condition is acting up. If I die, you’ll owe me a coffin!”

Just then, a painful wail came from below, as if providing sound effects for Wei Ping’s act.

All three changed expression and the shopkeeper rushed downstairs.

Xiao Zhuo gritted his teeth: “Old Zheng’s heart condition flared up. It must have been triggered by that guy just now!”

From the moment Song Qian Ji entered to pawn his sword, the small pawnshop was destined for a night of chaos.

“How is Old Zheng?” Wei Ping asked.

“He’s alright. He took some stabilizing medicine, I helped him circulate his spiritual energy, and he’s entered meditation now,” the shopkeeper said, wiping his sweat.

“It’s all that guy’s fault!” Xiao Zhuo fumed.

“What exactly happened?” Wei Ping was thoroughly intrigued.

He deeply regretted not arriving earlier to meet the talisman writer.

The shopkeeper, also frustrated, slapped a calming talisman on the table: “Old Zheng stared at this talisman, finding it increasingly exquisite, with every stroke perfect. Then he recalled that young man saying he ‘only knew a little,’ and the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He fell into a mental trap, fixating on the idea that he’d wasted most of his life and didn’t ‘know a little’ himself! I need to take this talisman away so he won’t see it again.”

Wei Ping gazed at the talisman intently, and after a while exclaimed:

“Characters are overlapping here!”

Xiao Zhuo found this bewildering: “Those aren’t characters!”

The calming talisman was the most basic type, with many different ways to draw it, all achieving the same effect.

Talisman masters had different brushwork habits, leaving different marks on the paper.

“No, this isn’t just a talisman, it’s also a riddle. The person who wrote it wanted to convey a message through this talisman,” Wei Ping said seriously.

“What message?” The shopkeeper frowned, remembering the young man’s calm face.

Wei Ping asked: “If I can figure it out, can I have the broken sword?”

The shopkeeper considered: “Fine, give it a try.”

Wei Ping turned the talisman upside down and took the shopkeeper’s accounting paper and brush:

“Turn it over, and follow each stroke in reverse order. Separate the strokes, don’t overlap them…”

A moment later, Wei Ping put down the brush. “There, can you see it now?”

The shopkeeper took the paper with a grave expression.

On the paper were written two large characters—”Jian Shang” (Unscrupulous Merchant).

Wei Ping slapped the table, laughing uproariously:

“Get it now? You’ve met a master. He wasn’t trying to write a talisman at all—he just wanted to insult you! Did you jack up the price?”

The shopkeeper’s face alternated between red and white: “It’s just business. What’s wrong with making some money?”

Xiao Zhuo suddenly said: “I finally understand why the master wants to take on a rogue like you.”

Keen intuition, talent, and spiritual sensitivity far beyond ordinary people.

“Don’t flatter me. Flattery won’t get you money!” Wei Ping grabbed the old sword, laughing as he walked out into the night.

The small pawnshop remained quiet for a long time.

The shopkeeper sighed: “When people of our generation were young, anyone with promise believed that a true man born into this world should carry a three-foot sword and achieve extraordinary feats.’ But what’s wrong with today’s real talents? How many famous people in the world are just seeking empty fame?”

Xiao Zhuo: “Wei Ping is mentally unstable, and that qin buyer was scheming and insulted us indirectly. I dislike them both.”

“Your dislike doesn’t matter,” the shopkeeper shook his head. “Go, take this ‘Unscrupulous Merchant talisman’ to the master. The master’s final days are approaching, and he’s troubled by having no successor for his legacy. We can’t break the ‘three no-questions’ rule, so we’ll let the master decide for himself.”

***

Waiting for someone is very boring.

Two people waiting in the deep night, with nothing to say to each other, creates an atmosphere more difficult than being alone.

He Qing Qing was tired, hungry, and cold. She had been humiliated today, had broken down crying, and was completely exhausted, both physically and mentally. Her consciousness gradually became fuzzy, forgetting where she was and who sat beside her.

She unexpectedly leaned toward Chen Hong Zhu.

Chen Hong Zhu instinctively dodged, then glanced at He Qing Qing’s excessively thin body. In the end, she didn’t move, allowing the other’s head to rest on her shoulder.

“I’m tired too,” she muttered, sitting a little closer.

When Song Qian Ji returned, he saw from a distance how one figure at his doorway had become two.

The two girls leaned against each other.

In the moonlight, they looked like two lotus flowers, one red and one white.

Passion and fragility reflect each other—the image was beautiful, but Song Qian Ji found it troublesome.

One girl could already cry enough to wilt a balsam flower; two might not bring down the bamboo fence with their tears, but it would be close.

Chen Hong Zhu hadn’t fallen asleep, only closing her eyes to rest.

Hearing footsteps, she straightened up. When she moved, He Qing Qing also woke.

Realizing she had been sleeping against the Huawei Sect young mistress’s shoulder, she stood up startled:

“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

The young man approached, bathed in moonlight.

“Senior Brother Song!” He Qing Qing called out joyfully, then felt it was improper and softly corrected herself, “Fellow Daoist Song, you’ve returned.”

Chen Hong Zhu didn’t look at her, only staring at Song Qian Ji: “Where did you go?”

Song Qian Ji pointed to the red paper crane on his collar: “Don’t you know?”

He Qing Qing listened to their familiar conversational tone, feeling mixed emotions—something like envy, and something like a sour feeling.

Then she heard Chen Hong Zhu ask: “I heard you left wearing a sword. Where is your sword?”

“I pawned it,” Song Qian Ji said calmly.

“You pawned it?!” Chen Hong Zhu jumped up.

Song Qian Ji ignored her. He wanted to resolve this matter quickly.

So he took off the qin case and turned to He Qing Qing: “Take it.”

When the qin case opened, a flash of green light spilled out.

The qin’s body was slender and beautiful, like a spring river, with seven strings resembling ripples on water.

The spring water greener than the sky made even the bright moon seem dim.

“Is this… Green Ripple Platform?” Chen Hong Zhu couldn’t help but exclaim.

Song Qian Ji hadn’t paid attention to the qin’s name or significance; he had simply chosen it because, when he picked it up, it felt the lightest.

“You, a sword cultivator, pawned your only sword just to buy a ‘Green Ripple Platform’ for her?”

Chen Hong Zhu bit her lower lip, pointing at the qin, then at the person. “Are you crazy?”

He Qing Qing was even more surprised, even frightened.

She stared blankly at Song Qian Ji.

She didn’t dare to accept it.

Of course “Green Ripple Platform” was the lightest. According to the customs of noble families in the Western Heavenly Region, it was the first qin that elders gave to their youngest daughter.

It wasn’t cheap. Girls would carry this qin when going out to play or enjoy spring outings with companions. When others saw it, they would know this girl came from a wealthy family, was greatly cherished at home, and should not be treated lightly.