Tan Zhong was feeling somewhat troubled. He couldn't determine whether those demon birds were dead or alive, good or bad—how was he to set a price?
Having managed his family's assets before, he understood that among the Ten Great Sects of Xuanmen, some disciples would often force merchants like him to purchase worthless Magic Artifacts under duress.
If the shop did not have a significant background, they would choose to suffer the losses rather than offend such figures. In his heart, he believed Zhang Yan was no different.
Not to mention the fact that the other party was a disciple of the Mingcang Sect—merely the identity of a Hua Dan Cultivator made him someone Tan Zhong could never afford to offend. Gritting his teeth, he said, "If we were speaking of a single demon bird, it would be worth around twenty Spiritual Shells. For seven hundred or so demon birds, let's make it a neat figure—ten thousand five Spirit Shells. Immortal Lord, what do you think of this price?"
