yy8098

“Absolutely! This Baishan sword looks incredibly sharp.”

“Hehehe, I’ve been thinking of changing my martial arts technique, and Baishan’s ‘Observing the Mountain and Breathing Technique’ suits me perfectly.”

As more people gathered around, Wu Ping became intrigued. “Alright, let’s go with an auction. You can take it at my price if it doesn’t work out. No loss either way.”

Wu Ping raised the Baishan Sword, declaring, “Baishan Sword is a medium-grade immortal sword artefact. Starting price: one hundred spirit stones. Bidding begins!”

“One hundred spirit stones are too cheap! I bid one hundred and one!”

“I’m bidding one hundred and two.”

“One hundred and five!”

With successive bids, the Baishan sword’s final transaction price reached two hundred spirit stones, much to Wu Ping’s delight. He hadn’t expected such a handsome profit. The news of the demon and evil twin stars conducting a playful auction quickly spread through the ghost market.

The third emperor, Li Yuan, in the prince’s palace, received the news. Excitedly, he ordered, “Wu Ping and Wu Qi are in the ghost market? Quickly! Arrange for Luan to drive us out of the palace!”

Li Yuan was thrilled to meet them without going in person. Wu Ping and Wu Qi had come to Wangfu!

“Your Highness, wait a moment,” the old warden cautioned. “Hearing the news, Wu Ping is dealing with spoils from the Baishan Sect in the ghost city. I have a speculation about this behaviour.”

The elder companion explained, “These two are short of spirit stones, especially Wu Ping.”

“As the saying goes, preparing a gift as a stepping stone is better. Even if the solicitation is not successful, the friendship remains. Your Highness, consider…”

“Hahahaha, extreme circumstances call for extreme measures. Prepare eight hundred spirit stones for me. Also, bring the space ring and the Blood Demon Sword my father gave me. Today, I am determined to invite the demon and evil twin stars to help me secure the throne!” Third Imperial Prince Li Yuan commanded, his excitement evident.

In the ghost market, Wu Ping, thanks to his fame, successfully auctioned off valuable items and made a substantial profit. He added nearly a thousand spirit stones to his coffers, warming his heart. The magic tree wouldn’t ask for spirit stones for at least three or four days.

As his cultivation realm improved, the magic tree’s requirements for resources increased incessantly, demanding more spirit stones every minute and second. Thankfully, Wu Ping had no concerns about physical needs. Spirit stones were the only currency of importance.

Wu Ping estimated that he could elevate his cultivation to around the sixth level of soul ascension with nearly a thousand spirit stones. It was like covering a thousand miles in a day—no, thousands of miles daily. Once the items were sold, Wu Ping intended to find a quiet place, return to the doomsday world, and feed the magic tree to enhance his cultivation. Transforming spirit stones into his own cultivation base was more satisfying for him.

Wu Ping was not in a rush to close the stall. He wanted to maximise his cultivation progress. Cleaning up the stall, he asked Wu Qi, “Leaving already? Want to stick around for a bit?”

Wu Qi, uninterested, shook his head, saying, “What’s there to do? Boring, and can’t kill people.”

As they spoke, the onlookers dispersed, making way for a monk who had reached the soul realm. He greeted them, “I don’t know if the two demons and evil double stars are here. My master, the steward of this ghost city, has invited you. Would you honour us with your presence?”

Considering the invitation, Wu Ping replied, “Since it’s an invitation, might as well go. It’s a matter of fact, after all. I’m quite busy, but I’ll make time.”

The monk seemed anxious, appearing before Wu Ping and Wu Qi. He warned, “You two have violated the ghost market’s ban. It’s better to follow me. If you resist, it won’t look good for anyone. Killing He Baishan doesn’t grant you unrestricted freedom.”

Wu Ping, intrigued by the mandatory invitation, found it amusing. This invitation was without room for refusal, and the master’s identity was unimportant. The significant factor was that he had to die.

“Getting in the way? Seeking death!” Wu Ping reached out, and his palm turned fiery red as if covered in magma. However, the steward was prepared, donning gloves woven from the silk of four cicadas, each from a different season, and adorned with a poisonous blade.

Confident in his defence, the steward’s gloves proved useless against Wu Ping’s seemingly indestructible skin. The formidable force in Wu Ping’s hands effortlessly overwhelmed the steward, causing him to be blasted backwards, his body mangled and bloodied.

With a hand on his sword hilt, Wu Qi urged the wind. A violent gust swept through, disintegrating the monk who had ascended to the soul realm, turning him into blood foam that dispersed with the wind.

Turning to Wu Qi, Wu Ping asked, “How did you snatch my kill? He’s supposed to die instantly!”

A bit embarrassed, Wu Qi admitted, “I made a mistake. It was impulsive.”