CHAPTER 448: HOW IS IT A BRIBE?

King Wu Tianzhen considered it for a long moment. The shrewd mind of a monarch couldn’t help but weigh what their kingdom could gain against the lost prestige of an exclusive deal. He looked at his daughter, who gave a single imperceptible nod of approval.

"Very well, Shopkeeper," The King finally conceded, a look of grudging respect on his face. He had been outmaneuvered by a better offer. "Priority access is... acceptable. We will begin selecting our finest candidates at once."

"A wise and convenient decision, dear customer." Lin Mo said, his genial smile returning. "This marks the beginning of a fruitful partnership. Now, about that immortal-grade artifact... The [Everlasting Spirit Fountain]. Your kingdom has been approved as one of the three eligible bidders."

Switching topics, Lin Mo returned to the crux of why this man before him had come here.

Hearing that, the King’s composure, which had been so carefully maintained, finally cracked. A flash of pure desire shone in his eyes. An immortal-grade artifact. The ultimate symbol of power and destiny. Something not even the most prestigious sect within the realm owned.

"We... are eligible?" He asked, his words could barely be registered as a whisper.

"Indeed," Lin Mo confirmed, now fully in control of the negotiation. "The auction, as you may have heard, will not be a simple matter of spirit stones. It will require a ’Pledge of Convenience’. A binding commitment to the realm’s defense, coordinated through our store. It is an opportunity for the Southern Wu Kingdom to acquire not just a priceless treasure. It is also a perfect opportunity to cement its position as a central pillar of this new era."

He paused for a moment and took another sip of his coffee. "The auction will start after I meet all the eligible bidders. And with the Divine Lecture coming up today, it will be tomorrow at the latest. I trust your kingdom will prepare a... compelling bid."

The King was silent for a long moment, his mind racing to process the scale of the opportunities and challenges laid before him. He had come here to assess a shop and had instead found himself negotiating the future destiny of his entire kingdom.

—

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Martial World, after escaping Lin Mo’s ghostly avatar, the three members of the Crimson Tiger Sect scrambled through the rocky, desolate landscape of the Shattered Blade Gorge, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the terrifying ’ghost’.

The leader called Hu Gan, clutched his wounded arm. The clean slice from the girl from the fallen Silent Rain Sect’s sword was still a stinging reminder of his humiliation. In his other hand, he held the bizarre, colorful packet the ghost had given him. It was light, crinkly, and unbelievably peculiar.

"Boss, what was that thing?" One of his subordinates, a man with a scar on his face named Pingan, asked with a trembling voice. "A ghost? A demon? It took us down without even moving!"

"I don’t know," Hu Gan grunted as his gaze fixated on the noodle packet. "But it seemed to be a peerless expert who wandered in that place. He even spoke of a business proposal. Of treasures greater than some dusty old manual. He called this a... ’free sample’."

The third man, someone whose face looked like it had become a punching bag, named Meng, licked his lips nervously. "Won’t that be a cursed thing, senior brother? The first thing it threw at you. The white puff. It smelled sweet."

Hu Gan shot him a glare. "It was a weapon! It nearly broke my nose! And this... I don’t know. It doesn’t appear to be cursed."

Still, he couldn’t deny the memory of the strange, sweet aroma of that piece of popcorn that hit his nose. His mind replayed the ghost’s final words.

Sunken Dragon City. Three days. That place is located not far from the gorge. However, it was also a place filled with opportunity and danger. Many martial artists frequented that city in hopes of acquiring legacies from a place called the Graveyard of Sages, a ruined city just outside its walls where countless peerless masters were said to have fallen during the ancient war that fractured their world.

The city was a chaotic, lawless hub of mercenaries, sects, and merchants. A perfect place for a mysterious ’establishment’ to appear. Or a perfect place for a trap.

"What do we do, Boss?" Pingan asked. "Do we report this to the Sect Master? Do we actually go to Sunken Dragon City?"

Hu Gan remained silent. He was a simple man, a martial artist who understood the world through the edge of his blade. But he wasn’t a fool. The ghost had offered them a choice. The old path of banditry and stealing scraps, or a new, unknown path that promised unimaginable treasures.

He glanced at the noodle packet again. On its surface were strange, colorful drawings. A bowl filled with something that looked like worms in a red soup, with bits of green and white things floating in it. It was bizarre, yet the image itself seemed to radiate a strange, tantalizing warmth.

"We need... more information," Hu Gan decided. "But first... we need to understand the nature of this ghost’s power."

He found a secluded cave to rest, his two subordinates standing guard, still rattled by their encounter. He sat down, placed the noodle packet on his lap, and studied it like it was a profound martial scripture.

He tore it open. Inside, he found a hard, dry brick of tangled ’worms’, and three smaller packets: a red powder, a dark oily liquid, and some dried green flecks.

"What is that sorcery? A food staple? But that’s..." Meng whispered, peering over his shoulder.

Remembering the ghost’s words, ’a taste of a new path’, Hu Gan’s resolve hardened. He pulled out his waterskin, a small pot, and a flint and steel.

He was a martial artist, accustomed to surviving in the wild. Cooking a simple meal from hunting small animals was second nature to him.

He built a small fire, boiled some water, and, following the crude pictograms on the packet, added the contents. The moment the red powder hit the water, a cloud of steam erupted, carrying an aroma so rich, so complex, and so utterly alien that all three men froze.

It was a scent of a dozen different spices they had only heard of in legends, of savory meats and rich oils. It was the scent of a world they had lost, a world of flavor and abundance. Their stomachs, accustomed to dry rations and roasted beast meat, let out a unified, desperate growl.

With trembling hands, Hu Gan stirred the concoction. The hard brick of ’worms’ softened, becoming pliable noodles. The soup turned a deep, inviting red.

He poured the contents into three bowls. The three of them stared at the steaming, fragrant meal which seemed to awaken their primal, desperate hunger.

"Senior brother, this... isn’t this a bowl of noodles?"

"It is. But it’s not just a simple bowl of it... Can’t you feel it? Unbelievable..." With his words already becoming rattled from the golden noodles soaked in a red broth in front of him, the man could only do his best not to down it in one slurp.

Likewise, the doubts of the other two were gradually peeled as they sat down, taking their bowls.

"... Ugh. It’s not my desire to continue stealing! To the new path!" Hu Gan exclaimed, confessing what he was hiding deep within him. And then, he took his first sip.

And the world exploded.

The perfect chewiness of the noodles, the fiery kick of the chili, the deep, umami flavor of the broth, the subtle crunch of the green flecks... it was a symphony of taste that overloaded his senses. More than that, he felt a warm, gentle energy spreading through his body, soothing his wounded arm and replenishing the inner energy he had expended.

But that wasn’t the end of it. As the warm broth slid down his throat, he felt a surge of refined energy spread through his body. It wasn’t the wild, untamed martial qi he was used to cultivating. This energy was warm, gentle, and incredibly potent. It flowed through his meridians, soothing the aches of his injuries, replenishing his spent inner energy, and even... strengthening it. He could feel the bottleneck in his cultivation, the barrier to the pinnacle of a first-rate expert, begin to tremble.

The other two men were having a similar experience, their faces a mask of pure, blissful shock.

"Boss... I... I feel it!" Liu Pi gasped, looking at his hands. "My inner energy... it’s stronger! The blockage in my Tiger Claw technique... it’s gone!"

"My bones..." Meng stammered, clenching his fists. "They feel... harder. The pain from my old injuries is gone!"

Hu Gan looked at his own hands, then at the empty bowl. The ghost... the Shopkeeper...

How dare he call it a bribe? It’s a bundle of miracles! A single colorful packet of noodles had done more for their cultivation in five minutes than months of grueling training.