"Pay?" The old man repeated.
"Yes," Lin Mu said. "For your time."
The old man's frown deepened before breaking into an amused grin.
"Don't insult me," Jeon said. "I didn't do this for money. its been a while since I've had someone talk about something worthy."
Lin Mu remained standing, not backing down. "Still, it wouldn't feel right to leave without giving something."
Jeon studied him for a long moment, then sighed theatrically.
"If you insist," he said at last, "then buy a book. Or several. That will be more than enough."
Lin Mu nodded. "Fair."
He turned toward the shelves.
At first, he browsed normally, his gaze moving across titles, spines, faded covers. But as minutes passed, his expression slowly changed.
He closed his eyes and released his immortal sense.
The sensation washed through the bookstore like a silent tide, touching every shelf, every stack, every hidden corner. Titles, contents, histories... countless fragments of knowledge brushed against his perception.
