It was impossible to tell what he truly thought. Hong Ning decided to say no more and simply followed him out of the shop. They went on to purchase gold and silver jewelry as well as fine fabrics. This time, she was far more attentive, carefully displaying her discerning taste. She made her selections without hesitation, and by the end of their shopping, the four attendants were carrying armfuls of boxes and bolts of cloth.
As they passed by his family’s bank, Duan Fei suddenly remembered some urgent business. Taking his attendants with him, he stepped inside to speak with the shopkeeper. Hong Ning had no interest in such matters. She excused herself, saying she wanted to watch the street performers, and wandered off alone into the bustling streets.
Pushing through the crowd, Hong Ning saw a disheveled scholar in his thirties selling a sword.
“This is no ordinary sword,” the scholar declared, his tone full of self-importance. “It is an ancient blade, a thousand years old! It wards off evil spirits, protects the household, and has been passed down in my family since my ancestors held official positions.” After this customary embellishment, he sighed dramatically, feigning distress. “Alas, my family has fallen into ruin, and we can no longer afford to make ends meet. I have no choice but to find a worthy owner for this treasured heirloom. Whoever can meet my price, I will sell this ancestral sword to them.”
The sword lay horizontally on the ground, emitting a faint greenish sheen, though nothing about it appeared particularly remarkable. The scabbard was made of wood, slightly worn and unimpressive. It hardly seemed worth the grandiose claims, so the crowd remained skeptical, murmuring among themselves, but no one stepped forward to make an offer.
Hong Ning, however, was no novice. She immediately sensed the sword’s strong, murderous aura and knew at once that it was indeed an ancient weapon. Stepping forward, she asked, “How much?”
The scholar had been growing anxious from the lack of interest, so he was overjoyed at her question. “Ah! A young lady who truly appreciates fine craftsmanship! Since you recognize its worth, why don’t you name a price? If it’s reasonable, I will part with it.”
Though she knew he was ignorant of the sword’s true value, Hong Ning was not the kind of person to take advantage of others. She checked the silver she had on hand—only twenty taels. “How about twenty taels?” she offered.
The scholar had not expected his so-called ‘ancestral treasure’ to fetch such a high price. Overjoyed, he didn’t even wait for a higher bid. Without hesitation, he held the sword out to her with both hands. “Twenty taels it is! The sword is yours.”
Spending twenty taels on an old, worn-looking sword—some onlookers sighed in regret, some shook their heads, while others admired her keen eye. Hong Ning paid no mind to their opinions. She handed the silver to the scholar, took the sword, and examined it.
The blade was icy cold to the touch, its murderous energy palpable.
Much like how a retired martial artist still finds their fingers itching at the sight of a fine weapon, Hong Ning was unexpectedly pleased with her purchase. She knew she had no need for demon-slaying or ghost-hunting in the future, but even so, she liked the sword. Just as she was about to turn and leave, a voice called out—
“Hold on.”
A woman in extravagant attire stood nearby. Her skin was as fair as snow, her eyebrows delicately arched like willow leaves, and her striking appearance immediately drew attention. Behind her stood two maids and several servants.
The dispersing crowd quickly gathered again—who didn’t recognize this famous beauty? She was none other than Miss Su, the daughter of Governor Su.
Hong Ning, however, had no idea who she was. She frowned slightly. “Something you need?”
Miss Su did not answer. Instead, she cast a glance at her maid. Understanding her intent, the maid stepped forward and tossed two large silver ingots to the scholar. “Our young lady will take this sword—twenty-five taels.”
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