Ye Mo hadn't even finished explaining that the spirit-clearing talisman close to a level-one talisman was worth twenty thousand yuan when he was already called a lunatic. But he wasn't too discouraged—after all, he only sold his talismans to true connoisseurs, because only those who truly understood would notice the faint circulating spiritual energy in his talismans.
However, Ye Mo was disappointed. After setting up his stall for five consecutive days, many people had come to look, but he hadn't sold a single talisman. In fact, his talisman stall had become famous in Haibao Garden because he charged ten thousand yuan for a piece of simple yellow paper.
Most visitors weren't buyers; they came to see what a ten-thousand-yuan yellow paper talisman looked like. Ye Mo's stall became a laughingstock. Other talismans were about half the size of an A4 sheet, while his were only about the size of a palm, and one was even half a palm. And yet he never lowered the price or haggled—such stubbornness made him even more notorious.
On the ninth day, Ye Mo felt a bit disheartened. He had come to realize that no one here recognized the value of his talismans. Only he knew that even ten or a hundred thousand yuan wouldn't be overpriced for them. But a thousand-mile horse without a good trainer was still useless.
He decided today would be his last day. If no one showed interest, he would go find a job at the labor market, or else he wouldn't even have money to eat.
The novelty had worn off—his ten-thousand-yuan talisman had attracted curious onlookers for days, but those visitors were now thinning out.
Ye Mo was bored and was about to pack up when he overheard a conversation between a man and two women approaching. Although far away, his sharp hearing caught their words clearly.
"Jingwen, this place is full of quacks and superstitious fools. You already have plenty of talismans. I've contacted a well-known brain hospital in France. Why not transfer your aunt there for treatment?" said a tall, handsome man.
The woman named Jingwen was tall, with a cold expression and noble bearing. Her pale skin and exquisite beauty outshone even Yan Yan from Ye Mo's class. Ye Mo couldn't understand how his former self had been so unlucky to fancy a woman like Yan Yan.
But Jingwen seemed troubled. Hearing the handsome man's words, her frown deepened. It wasn't that she didn't want her mother to get treatment—she had taken her mother to six medically advanced countries and dozens of hospitals in three years, but her mother's condition had made no progress.
"Wang Peng, I didn't ask you to follow me here. You came on your own. We've tried numerous hospitals—the five or six you suggested included—but my mother still remains unconscious. If you're impatient, then go ahead," Jingwen said coldly, clearly not fond of the handsome man.
The other woman was strong and silent, evidently Jingwen's bodyguard.
Ye Mo chuckled inwardly. After seven or eight useless suggestions from this Wang Peng, no one would be happy with him. Jingwen's mother had been unconscious for three years—probably a vegetative state.
If she was a vegetative patient for only three years, Ye Mo's nearly level-one spirit-clearing talisman should be able to awaken her.
He immediately shouted out loud, "Talismans for sale! For the possessed, vegetative patients, and the sick—one talisman cures, two talismans heal completely!"
Of course, Ye Mo was deliberately advertising this way. His goal was to see if he could make a sale to this wealthy woman who had traveled the world for her mother's treatment. Spending ten or twenty thousand yuan would be no big deal to her.
Su Jingwen, worried and downcast, heard the claim that talismans could cure vegetative patients like her mother. It sounded like a miracle; without hesitation, she approached Ye Mo's stall.
"Excuse me, can your talismans cure vegetative patients?" Su Jingwen asked, voice trembling as if a drowning person grasping at a lifeline.
Ye Mo smiled faintly, thinking: If my level-one talisman can't even revive a normal unconscious person, I might as well go hit my head against a wall.
But since he had called out deliberately, he wanted to close this deal. Now that she had asked, he said quickly, "Of course! My talismans don't just save vegetative patients—as long as there's a breath of life, my talismans can revive them. It's a family secret!"
Ye Mo was about to continue bragging when the woman interrupted him, urgently asking, "My mother is vegetative now. I want to awaken her. Which talisman do I need?"
Ye Mo nodded, thinking, I knew you'd ask this. Pretending to be profound, he said, "Simple. Just buy a spirit-clearing talisman. I have two here—one high-quality for twenty thousand yuan, and a regular one for ten thousand. No haggling."
"What? You charlatan! Dare to cheat people on the street? I'll call the police!" Wang Peng exploded upon hearing that two pieces of yellow paper would cost thirty thousand yuan. He pointed at Ye Mo angrily.
Ye Mo kicked Wang Peng's hand aside, secretly using internal force so that Wang Peng's hand would be useless in the future—any force exerted would dislocate his wrist. To outsiders, it looked like a simple kick.
Only the strong, silent woman watching nearby noticed and briefly flashed a startled look before regaining her composure.
After kicking Wang Peng's hand away, Ye Mo coldly said, "I didn't ask you to buy anything. What a joke. Move aside—I'm doing business here, don't block my way."
"Bold of you—" Wang Peng started angrily, but was cut off.
"Wang Peng, please step aside. I don't need you tagging along," Su Jingwen said coldly. Then, turning to Ye Mo with an apologetic smile, she said, "Sorry, Master. He's just walking with me; he doesn't represent my opinion."
"Jingwen, this guy's clearly hiding his face, and he's selling a palm-sized yellow paper for ten thousand yuan—he's obviously a fraud. Ten or twenty thousand yuan is nothing, but if something happens to my aunt…" Wang Peng began to argue again, but Su Jingwen's expression darkened with impatience.