CHAPTER 69: CHAPTER 68: YOU DIDN’T LIE, BUT YOU LIED TO YOURSELF

Chang Song composed a poem, and though his skill was average, it at least adhered to the theme.

Others listened and couldn’t help but compare themselves inwardly, feeling both nervous on his behalf and for themselves.

Chen Xu focused half his attention on Chang Song and the other half on the panel data of the Food Cauldron Celestial Book.

[Current Status: Innate Divine Power Awakening at 82%]

Ever since entering this painted Ghost Market, his Divine Power awakening progress had been continuously rising.

From that very first moment, it leaped straight to 80%, and while it hadn’t jumped significantly since, it still continued a steady advance.

Chen Xu suspected that his Innate Divine Power might be influenced by this Ghost Market.

Of course, it was also possible that his Innate Divine Power was inherently related to the characteristics of the Ghost Market, hence the strong reaction upon its appearance.

The bluestone long street, dimly lit paper lanterns.

Under the pale moonlight, Chang Song finished his poem, yet the entire Ghost Market seemed to fall silent for a moment.

No sound, no response, only the thumping of everyone’s heartbeat, sounding like a death knell in this ghostly world.

Though not much time had passed, the wait for the verdict was particularly hard to endure.

Finally, at the end of the long street, the White Bone Ghost sighed softly and ethereally.

"Who would starve yet recite this man’s verse... Although the poem is ordinary, its sentiment is sincere."

The ghost turned her beautiful face slightly and said, "You should ask your vendor if they are satisfied with your poem and willing to accept your purchase."

"I..." Behind the stall, an ethereal figure flickered briefly, and a long-lost voice said, "Scholar, you’re from a farming family, aren’t you?"

Chang Song quickly replied, "Yes, my family is from Baping Village, Qingyan County, farming for generations. My grandfather once read books and became a scholar.

Unfortunately, he passed away early, and now... I haven’t achieved any titles."

Speaking of this, Chang Song’s face showed a hint of shame.

A child student is just the first step in the imperial exam, far from any official title.

The ethereal vendor said, "You’re from a farming family, so if you become an official after studying, will you then stand up for the common folks under your rule?

Will you find ways to reduce the number of starving peasants?"

"Of course!" Chang Song immediately raised his head, speaking with some emotion, "If it weren’t for wanting to stand up for the people, if it weren’t for fighting for that breath, why else would I study?"

"In that case, I will trust you this time. Don’t deceive me..." The vendor pointed at a gray-white ear of wheat on the stall.

The ear of wheat wobbled and floated into Chang Song’s arms.

Chang Song caught it but found it incredibly heavy.

Unconsciously, he let out an "ah" and took a step back, plopping down on the ground.

"Hehehe..."

The floating ethereal shadows on both sides of the long street twisted their forms and laughed gleefully.

"You’re not dead; you didn’t lie, but you lied to yourself, hehe..."

Witnessing this scene, the onlookers had their emotions fluctuating, feeling uneasy.

Did Chang Song’s poem pass or not? Could he survive and leave this Ghost Market?

The result was, Chang Song wasn’t dead, but he couldn’t leave the Ghost Market either.

He was pinned to the ground by the wheat, and no matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t get up, only showing shame and pain on his face.

The White Bone Ghost ignored him further, her gaze shifting, suddenly extending a pale skeletal hand to point into the crowd.

"Next, it’s you. Sir, what do you wish to buy?"

The chosen one was a son of a wealthy family from within the crowd.

This person wore a brocade robe adorned with jade, a display of wealth.

Earlier, he was the first to plead with Wu Zhengze for help, and he was the one playing the qin at the pavilion, indulging in romantic liaisons.

Selected by the ghost, he adjusted his clothes, feigning calm as he stepped leisurely out of the crowd and approached a stall.

Then he casually reached out and pointed, selecting a tarnished copper coin from the stall.

"I am Wei Tang, looking to purchase this copper coin. I have a hundred tael silver notes with me, and when I return, I can burn mountains of gold and silver for you..."

"I don’t want mountains of gold and silver, nor do I want mortal currency," came a charming female voice from behind the stall’s shadow, "All I want is a poem. Please compose one for me, my lord."

Still, a poem was needed.

Chang Song had composed a poem and gotten an ear of wheat, yet he was pinned to the ground, unable to move.

However, Wei Tang thought this was perhaps due to Chang Song’s poor poetry, or maybe his insincerity.

In any case, Wei Tang believed he should not end up like Chang Song.

"May I ask, what kind of poem does miss desire?"

Wei Tang cupped his hands and bowed, his attitude elegant and free-spirited.

"I..." the ethereal shadow’s voice was sorrowful and melodious, "I was the youngest daughter of a wealthy merchant, raised with care in my early years.

But at sixteen, my father made too big a business deal, piquing the interest of the steward of the provincial governor’s house.

Overnight, my father was jailed for selling counterfeit goods, our family scattered, and I was sold into a brothel.

The madam next door beat and scolded me, the procurers oppressed me, and I was forced to give up everything.

Guests came and went, and the red gauze’s fragrance faded.

Later, a good man came to the brothel, claiming to want a relationship with me every day.

He bought me cosmetics and hairpins, and I gifted him with gold and silver, begging him to redeem me back home.

He truly did redeem me, and I thought my hardships were over.

But just months later, he forgot about me, and not only that, he gave me as an object to a friend to be a dancing girl.

Then, his friend tortured me to death."

The shadow said lightly, "That was my life; write whatever poem you wish for me."

Though her tone was light, listening to her story, Wei Tang couldn’t help but tremble, his throat tightening.

The confidence he had earlier disappeared entirely, and at this moment, his mind was blank, unable to compose even a single line of poetry.

"You can’t compose one, I know," the shadow said, "because you have done similar things to women like me.

Since you can’t compose a poem, leave an item behind, hehe..."

As laughter began, a cold light suddenly flashed between Wei Tang’s legs like lightning.

A water-like protective shield emerged from Wei Tang’s chest but was utterly disregarded by the cold light, resulting in a flash of blood.

"Ah!" Wei Tang let out a blood-curdling scream and fell painfully to the ground.

The protective shield on his chest shattered like a bubble.

Everyone present felt a chill beneath them, all filled with apprehension.

So, being pinned by the wheat was actually a fortunate outcome for Chang Song.

Wei Tang’s miserable state became a true revelation about the Ghost Market.

One must never assume the Ghost Market, draped in a thin veil of transactions, allows free shopping and easy comings and goings.

"Hehehe..." The shadows laughed once more, rising and falling.

Chen Xu noticed that as Wei Tang was injured, the progress bar for his Innate Divine Power jumped forward again.

[Current Status: Innate Divine Power Awakening at 83%]

What in the world would his Innate Divine Power be?

Chen Xu was both puzzled and expectant, and after Wei Tang was injured, the ghost pointed out another five people.

Among the five, two composed poems, while three did not.

[Current Status: Innate Divine Power Awakening at 86%]