Hearing the voice that rang out in his mind, Xiao Yan blinked lightly, and gave an almost imperceptible nod of his chin.
Rather than reaching for that black iron shard at once, Xiao Yan idly tossed the green magic crystal, still flecked with traces of blood, in his hand. Turning toward the mercenary behind the stall — a man with a shifty, cunning look about him — Xiao Yan asked in an easy tone: "Whose magic crystal is this, and from which kind of beast?"
"Heh heh, young master has a keen eye. This is the magic crystal of a first-grade beast, the Wood-Devouring Fox. Among first-grade crystals, this one counts as a real gem. It took our Fang Mercenary Band a full three days of waiting — we had to hunt down five Wood-Devouring Foxes before we finally got our hands on a single one of these…" Seeing how well dressed Xiao Yan was, the mercenary hurried to introduce the goods with the utmost eagerness. "If it has caught the young master's fancy, it only needs five hundred gold coins. Heh heh, a few of our brothers took some heavy wounds hunting that fox, you know…"
Xiao Yan's finger wiped at the bloodstains on the crystal and found, sure enough, that the blood had not yet fully congealed. He gave a slight nod, then let his gaze drift over the two golden stars embroidered on the man's chest, and said casually: "That's overpriced. A first-grade magic crystal generally sells for four hundred to four hundred and fifty at most. And though the Wood-Devouring Fox is a magical beast, its attacking power is hardly impressive. Your men — they haven't failed to reach even the Dou Fighter level, have they?"
The mercenary's mouth twitched, and he gave a dry, forced laugh. Plainly he had not expected such a young lad to know the market prices and the nature of beasts so well. At length he could only smile ingratiatingly. "Four hundred and seventy, then — I can't go any lower, for we brothers still have to make a living, after all…"
"Ah, well…" With a long sigh under the mercenary's nervous gaze, Xiao Yan bent down and rummaged a handful of goods about the stall. As luck would have it, that odd iron shard was among them too. He held up the bundle in his hand. "Four hundred and seventy — let's take the lot together."
The mercenary's eyes shifted shrewdly over the items in Xiao Yan's hand, and he quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Good — they were all cheap things anyway. That odd black iron scrap was hardly worth a few copper coins, and the rest were nothing but odds and ends. Whatever this young master wished to buy, it was the mercenary who came out ahead.
"Deal!"
With a light toss, Xiao Yan threw down a small pouch of gold coins. Without another word, he gathered up the goods, turned, and walked away.
"Heh, Little Yan, not bad at all — even a shopping trip, and you handle it with such care." At the very moment he turned, Yao Lao's voice teased him with a mock laugh inside his mind.
"These fellows are all sly merchants. The moment they see you taking a fancy to something, they'll hike up the price howling like wolves. I've no wish to be fleeced like some fool…" Xiao Yan replied flatly in his mind. He knew well enough that the true prize of this transaction was that black iron shard, hidden away in the bundle. By burying it among a handful of worthless trinkets, he had kept the merchant from singling it out and thinking twice about its worth. Paying no further heed to that strange old man in the ring, he kept Xun'er company on a leisurely stroll out of the trading market, and slowly made his way back to the clan.
The girl at his side had watched the whole exchange with a curious light in her clear eyes, yet she asked no questions. She simply followed along, her quiet grace making the little transaction look all the more innocent.
Taking leave of Xun'er within the clan grounds, Xiao Yan hurried straight back to his own room, then carefully bolted the doors and shut the windows.
Turning around, he found Yao Lao had somehow already appeared. Xiao Yan drew the purchased medicines and the magic crystal from his bosom and asked, with some urgency: "Everything's been obtained. What do we do now?"
Yao Lao gave a low heh-heh of a laugh, his gaze sweeping idly over the materials on the table. All at once he observed: "Won't you take a look at that black iron shard?"
"What?" Xiao Yan was taken aback, then hurriedly fished out the shard again, examining it carefully up and down before frowning. "This thing — what is it for?"
Yao Lao took the shard in hand and said with a chuckle: "Inside this, some sort of Dou Technique appears to be stored. The one who forged this shard may well have been an alchemist himself, for it can only be sensed by someone with a soul-sense that surpasses the ordinary man. An alchemist, you see, must nourish both his Dou Qi and his soul in equal measure; his perception of the world runs far deeper than a common warrior's. For ordinary folk, this would be nothing more than a scrap of rusted iron. Only a fellow like me could peer into its hidden depths."
"A Dou Technique?" At those words Xiao Yan's eyes brightened, and he pressed at once: "What grade is it?"
On the Dou Qi continent, a Dou Technique drew no less regard than a Dou Qi cultivation method. A profound technique allowed a man, in the heat of battle, to unleash a strength far beyond what his own body could muster. A fraction of power granted by a high-grade technique might even overturn the outcome of a showdown between two rivals of equal standing. And like cultivation methods, Dou Techniques were likewise divided into four ranks — Heaven, Earth, Xuan, and Yellow. Yet those techniques that circulated among the common masses of the continent were, by and large, only the lowliest Yellow-rank ones.
Thinking of this, Xiao Yan's gaze toward the shard in Yao Lao's hand grew ever more heated. If even a Yellow-rank technique was a treasure to be hoarded by clans and families, then a Xuan-rank one could almost be said to hold the power to shake the foundations of a single house.
Seeing the blazing eagerness in Xiao Yan's eyes, Yao Lao chuckled and said: "This Dou Technique is of the Xuan rank — a technique of the Xuan rank. If you wish to master it, I will naturally teach it to you, for upon this shard the movements are recorded. But before that, we must first forge your foundation. The spirit-liquid you are to soak in demands no small cost in its materials. The medicines and crystals bought today were the last we could afford for a stretch — you will have to go back and purchase another batch of these very things every two months."
The small face stiffened, and Xiao Yan could only nod with a somewhat crestfallen air.
He cursed softly under his breath, thinking that this sort of thing truly was something only the wealthy could afford to keep up…
"Don't pull such a long face," Yao Lao said, amused. "You've spent three years at the bottom of this clan, scraping by on scraps and ridicule. If you can manage to hold out a little longer, the rewards will far outweigh these trinkets. The spirit-liquid clears your meridians and feeds your Dou Qi like nothing in the common world — in time, its worth will speak for itself."
Hearing this, Xiao Yan grudgingly brightened. Stiff as his face was, he nonetheless tucked the black iron shard away with care. Now that a Xuan-rank technique had fallen into his lap, a little recurring expense seemed a trifling price to pay. For the sake of the strength he had so long lacked — the strength that would one day let him stand tall before those who had mocked him for three years — he would even hoard every last coin he could scrape together if that was what it took.