Chapter 73: Black Market Situation
Chapter 73: Chapter 73: Black Market Situation
At noon on the second day, a gentle knock sounded on the door of Lu Zhao’s room in the Celestial Guest Tower. Lu Zhao deactivated the Sound Insulation Restriction and opened the door to find Old Zhao. Seeing Lu Zhao, he lowered his voice and said, "Fellow Daoist, it’s time. We should get going."
Lu Zhao gave a slight nod, closed the door, and followed him.
One walking in front of the other, they merged into the Marketplace crowd. Soon, they reached the southwestern corner, where Old Zhao led Lu Zhao into a maze of alleyways. They walked for half a quarter hour before reaching a fork in the road, with Lu Zhao following silently behind.
Old Zhao glanced at the fork before turning left. He walked at a relaxed pace but remained extremely vigilant, weaving through a series of twisting, narrow alleys. He detoured around dead ends piled high with junk and even deliberately doubled back twice, taking a huge, roundabout path only to end up back at the original fork.
Once they were back where they started, Old Zhao finally seemed to relax. His voice held a trace of weariness. "Don’t take it personally, Fellow Daoist. I’ve been scraping by at the bottom of the Marketplace for decades, and the only reason I’m still alive is because I’m cautious."
Lu Zhao replied calmly, "It’s no bother. It’s good to be cautious. You can’t be too careful."
Hearing this, Old Zhao turned and, without any hesitation this time, headed into the right-hand alley. After about half a quarter hour, a low wooden door appeared at the end of the alley. It was old, and most of its paint had peeled away.
Old Zhao stopped, took a deep breath, and raised his hand to knock on the door: one light tap, followed by two heavy ones.
KNOCK. KNOCK KNOCK.
Silence from within, then the soft sound of a bolt sliding open. The wooden door creaked ajar, revealing the wary face of a middle-aged man. He was stocky with a dark complexion. His eyes swept over Old Zhao before landing on Lu Zhao, his gaze filled with scrutiny.
"Fellow Daoist Zhao, what a rare guest! What’s the occasion? Got something good that made you think of Old Fang?" His gaze was fixed on Old Zhao, completely ignoring Lu Zhao for the moment.
A wry smile formed on Old Zhao’s face. "You’re joking, Fellow Daoist Fang. I’m just a poor Wanderer and a Talisman Master; what good things could I possibly have? I’m here today to introduce a newcomer."
He pulled Lu Zhao forward. "This is a distant nephew of mine. He has some items that aren’t convenient to sell out in the open and wants to try his luck in the Black Market. I’m vouching for him."
"A distant nephew?" The man, Fang, sized up Old Zhao with suspicion. "Old Zhao, you’ve been in the Marketplace for so many years, and I’ve never heard you mention any distant nephew."
He muttered under his breath but seemed disinclined to press the issue. His gaze shifted to Lu Zhao. "Old Zhao told you the rules, right?"
Lu Zhao nodded, his voice low and steady. "He did."
"Fine." The man, Fang, didn’t waste any words, simply holding out his palm. "Give me the Spirit Stone."
Lu Zhao took out a Lower Grade Spirit Stone and handed it over. The man, Fang, accepted it and casually tossed it into his Storage Bag.
He then pulled a palm-sized black wooden token from his Storage Bag and handed it to Lu Zhao.
"Hold onto the token," he said, speaking rapidly. "One Spirit Stone for your first time. After this, you get in with the token, no more fees."
When Lu Zhao said nothing, he continued, "I’ll go over the rules one more time. Inside the Black Market, fighting is strictly forbidden! Probing others with your Divine Sense is strictly forbidden! Violators will, at best, be expelled and banned for life. At worst, they’ll be killed on the spot!" With that, he led the two of them into the building.
As soon as they entered, Lu Zhao saw that the room was dimly lit and sparsely furnished, containing only a worn-out table and two benches.
He then watched as the man, Fang, walked to the far end of the room, bent down, and lifted a floorboard to reveal a dark opening leading down.
"Go on down. Follow the path, don’t gawk, and don’t touch anything," the man, Fang, said, pointing to the opening to indicate they could enter.
Old Zhao ducked into the opening first, and Lu Zhao followed close behind. After walking for half a quarter hour, a faint light became visible up ahead. They rounded another bend, and the space suddenly opened up before them.
A moderately sized natural cavern spread out before Lu Zhao. Stalactites of various shapes hung from the ceiling, emitting a faint phosphorescence that barely lit the space below.
"This is the entrance to the Black Market," Old Zhao said. Seeing Lu Zhao’s silence, he pointed toward several dark tunnels deeper inside. "This entrance cavern may not look big, but it connects to several much larger ones. It’s a whole system of caves. The Black Market is set up inside."
He led Lu Zhao deeper in, explaining in a low voice, "The Black Market here is split into two sections. One section is for private vendors. It’s just like setting up a stall outside—find a corner, lay down a cloth, and you’re in business. They’ll buy or sell anything, no matter how shady its origins, as long as the price is right. You’ll find Talismans, Pills, and Magical Artifact Materials that are forbidden in the main Marketplace, and even..."
After a moment, seeing that Lu Zhao was listening intently, he lowered his voice even more. "I’ve heard that even Demonic Spiritual Artifacts have shown up here, though who knows if those rumors are true. As for the prices at the private stalls, you have to negotiate yourself. It all comes down to your own judgment. The risks are high, but so are the potential rewards."
Lu Zhao’s gaze swept over the few figures in the cavern and their simple stalls, and he understood. ’This scene is much like the Black Market in the Zhou Family Marketplace, just on a smaller scale.’
Lu Zhao wasn’t particularly interested in Old Zhao’s explanation of the rules for private stalls, as they were similar to those in the Zhou Family Marketplace. He was, however, curious about the mention of "Demonic Spiritual Artifacts." ’In Chen Country and its neighbors, the legacies of the Demon Dao are virtually extinct. I’ve never heard of any Demon Sects here.’
Once Old Zhao finished, Lu Zhao asked, "And the other section?"
"The other section is made up of a few permanent shops," Old Zhao said, pointing to several noticeably larger storefronts deeper in the cavern. "Those shops have powerful backing. They’ll buy whatever you’re selling, no questions asked, but they’ll drive a hard bargain on the price. The upside is that it’s safe and hassle-free—a clean exchange of goods for cash, with no repercussions later."
"They sell things, too—plenty of contraband. The quality is much better than what you’ll find at the stalls, but the prices are terrifyingly high." He paused, then leaned close to Lu Zhao’s ear. "I hear the people behind these shops have connections to certain figures in the Lin Family... you know what I mean."
Lu Zhao remained unfazed. ’This is a common feature of any black market operating in a family’s territory. Without the tacit approval, or even the outright control, of the local powers that be, how could they possibly survive for long? It was true for the Zhou Family, and it’s true for the Lin Family. These places are just channels for those in power to dispose of "dirty" goods and reap profits that can’t see the light of day.’
"I’m looking for an information broker," Lu Zhao stated his purpose directly. "Once you take me to one, our deal is complete."
Hearing this, Old Zhao visibly relaxed. He pointed to a nearby stall covered with a filthy, oil-stained tarp. "There, that’s him. The owner’s name is Wang Cheng. He usually peddles miscellaneous goods but also deals in information on the side. This place is too small to support a full-time information broker, so he’s the most well-informed person around here."
With that, he led Lu Zhao to the stall and called out to the owner, "Fellow Daoist Wang, I’ve brought you some business!"
The stall owner looked up at the sound of his voice. Lu Zhao saw a man in his forties with sunken cheeks and high, prominent cheekbones. Their eyes met.