Chapter Ninety-Two: A Gathering Storm (Part Two)

These polite words were nothing new to Qin Jing; he'd heard plenty of them before. But to be fair, hearing them from the famed leading figure of Lenghai brought him a certain sense of pride. When someone approaches warmly, one ought not to refuse, yet...

He let out a cold laugh and replied decisively, "I'm sorry, but whatever is between Zhou Jian and me, he'll have to explain it to me himself. I have long admired President Ma and look forward to working together in business, but only in business."

Without waiting for a response, he hung up.

What was Zhou Jian’s game? The moment Qin Jing heard Ma Junshan's words, he understood instantly.

Zhou Jian, of course, wanted to keep the corpse for himself. Even Hathaway was extremely interested in it—how much more Zhou Jian? He had no real ties to Qin Jing. By now, he'd likely realized that Qin Jing had him move the corpse mostly to draw fire away. Now, Zhou Jian wanted to bite back, using Ma Junshan as a middleman: on one hand, to see if he could sell the now troublesome corpse to Qin Jing, and on the other, to test Qin Jing’s attitude. If Qin Jing showed weakness before Ma Junshan, Zhou Jian might simply swallow the corpse for good.

Hearing the busy tone from the phone, Ma Junshan was taken aback. He frowned and turned to Zhou Jian, who was sitting beside him. "I've relayed your message, and you heard it yourself. What are you planning next?"

Zhou Jian had managed to escape from Lian Rui thanks to Ma Junshan's discreet help. Facing further investigation from the Lenghai Supervision Council, he could only rely on Ma Junshan. Still, as a fourth-level extraordinary and the holder of something important, Zhou Jian’s life under Ma Junshan was comfortable enough.

Now, he lounged with a beautiful woman on either side, idly playing with one’s hand and smiling at Ma Junshan. "That Qin fellow isn’t showing much respect for you, President Ma."

But Ma Junshan wasn’t provoked, answering coldly, "You, Zhou Jian, aren’t showing me much respect either. I asked about the corpse, and you still haven’t given me a straight answer. Don’t tell me you’ve lost it?"

Zhou Jian laughed heartily and said bluntly, "President Ma, you know me. If I brought you the corpse, could you really keep it safe? There’s word from Jinling—the Qi family sent a small team, supposedly to look for their second son wandering in Lenghai. Guess what that great clan is really here for?"

"This situation suits me fine. I owe you a favor for your help, and once I unravel the secrets of the corpse, I swear a ghost oath: I will share the secret with you, President Ma. How does that sound?"

Ma Junshan was moved, relaxing significantly. A ghost oath was a solemn vow among cultivators, rumored to contain mysteries of the soul. Breaking it brought misfortune, destabilized the soul, made further advancement difficult, and most crucially, upon death, the soul would be devoured by heaven and earth, erasing all trace.

"And Qin Jing—is he truly so enigmatic?" Ma Junshan, recalling Qin Jing’s attitude, felt somewhat indignant.

Thinking of the mysterious Qin Jing, Zhou Jian showed a hint of lingering fear. To Ma Junshan, however, he did not speak the whole truth. "Qin Jing has risen only recently. He calls himself a businessman, selling secondhand goods in Erdaozi Lane, but actually deals in rare extraordinary materials. The materials I received from him were yours, and judging by our meeting, his cultivation isn’t high, but he possesses a remarkable illusion technique—he seems able to confuse ghosts and converse with them."

He narrowed his eyes, a trace of malice flickering there. "But these are just my guesses. President Ma, please be patient; I’ll contact him soon. Once I learn more about Qin Jing, we can decide what to do next."

Zhou Jian felt both fear and resentment towards Qin Jing, but no gratitude. He was a ghost cultivator—ruthless and cunning—and now felt he'd been manipulated by Qin Jing, so naturally wanted to turn the tables.

Qin Jing also had his own plans for Zhou Jian. From the moment he had Zhou Jian "help move the corpse," Qin Jing had already regarded him as a piece on his chessboard.

His objective was simple: to make a name for himself in Lenghai’s extraordinary circles. Once famous, people would come to him for business—officials, people like Ma Junshan, good or bad alike. All were potential partners. The more attention Zhou Jian and the corpse attracted, the greater Qin Jing’s renown. If Qin Jing ultimately dealt with Zhou Jian and resolved the negative effects of the corpse’s secrets, this move would be a great success.

So, after hanging up, Qin Jing ignored any feedback from the other side, left the hotel, hailed a taxi, and returned to Erdaozi Lane.

Two days had passed, and Erdaozi Lane seemed even livelier. As Qin Jing entered, he even spotted a couple of extraordinary individuals! Times had changed for him. The "Dragon Strategies" and "Second Young Master Qi’s knowledge" had broadened his horizons immensely. With simple "Qi Observation," Qin Jing could now see through anyone below the third extraordinary level.

"Brother Qin! What brings you here? Visiting Old Song?"

He’d barely reached the corner when he saw Wang Shouren approaching with a young man and woman. They ran into each other at just the right moment.

The man was young, in his twenties, and first-level extraordinary. The woman was young and beautiful, and she looked familiar—likely a minor celebrity, though just an ordinary person.

Qin Jing glanced over, surprised. These days, it seemed extraordinary individuals were everywhere.

"Brother Wang, are you going to Old Song’s to buy something?" Qin Jing asked with a cheerful smile.

"Exactly. Old Song has a blue-and-white porcelain plate; everyone in Erdaozi Lane knows it, but he’s never sold it. This time, he finally agreed, and it’s stirred up quite a fuss here."

As Wang Shouren invited Qin Jing to join them, he introduced the two companions.

The man’s name was Lian Weili, a name neither Chinese nor Western. The woman was Yuan Shen, a streamer with some popularity. On hearing her name, Qin Jing remembered that back when he was just an ordinary person, he’d watched her broadcasts—she was quite skilled at flirting.

Lian Weili was a returnee, now working at a certain institution, young and accomplished. He wanted to buy a plate as a gift for his elders and had asked Wang Shouren to accompany him.

They chatted as they walked to Old Song’s shop.

By now, the shopfront was crowded, mostly with people just watching the excitement. Old Song was not only selling the blue-and-white plate; he was auctioning all his shop’s treasures. Qin Jing knew Old Song’s only genuine item was the plate, but others were unaware. With Old Song’s reasonable prices, he attracted quite a crowd.

Arriving at his own door, Qin Jing excused himself and stepped into his shop.