Chen Xin's fingers brushed the body of the Zhuge Divine Crossbow, his gaze calm yet sharp. His interest was clear, but it wasn't the glowing excitement Tang San had expected.
Tang San, however, didn't notice. His heart was thrumming with ambition. In his mind, numbers whirled: the future Tang Sect, the rivers of coin to fund it, and the prestige he would carve with his "exclusive" weapons.
After deliberate pause, Tang San spoke with the confident air of one convinced he'd struck gold.
"Senior Chen Xin," he began, his tone solemn but smooth, "here is my offer. A unit of the Zhuge Divine Crossbow at three hundred gold soul coins each. And for the Seven Treasures Glazed Sect, should you purchase sets of my hidden weapons, I can reduce the price. A full set at only five hundred gold soul coins. This is already a great favor considering our bond through Rongrong."
He lifted his chin slightly, pride shading his eyes. Such generosity… Surely, to the wealthy Seven Treasures Sect, this is nothing. And with such orders, I can establish my Tang Sect here with ease.
But Chen Xin's expression didn't brighten. Instead, his brows furrowed. A faint disapproval flickered there.
He exhaled quietly, and his words fell sharp.
"Three hundred…? Tang San, do you take our sect's wealth for easy spoils? And five hundred gold coins for a set?"
Tang San blinked. "???"
His confidence cracked inward. This had been far from the reaction he envisioned. Why? Why is he displeased? My offer was already generous!
Trying to salvage ground, Tang San pushed earnestly, "Senior Sword Douluo, consider carefully. This is a weapon that, if used properly, can kill a Soul Sect! Sold at only three hundred, it's not expensive in the least. If every disciple of the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect were equipped with this, your strength would rise to an entirely new standard!"
He clutched the crossbow in his hands, voice edged with stubbornness. He didn't want to lower his price further.
Chen Xin, however, only shook his head slowly. "The problem isn't whether or not it's useful—it is. But to spend like this without clarity is dangerous. A hidden weapon is, in the end, an external object. Three hundred gold coins for something that requires constant bolts for ammunition? When our disciples run out, what then? Must our sect return to you endlessly, buying supplies at your price every time?"
Tang San stiffened silently.
Chen Xin's slight smile deepened into a fox's curve. "Here is my advice. Why not begin by selling these weapons to the two great empires? If the item is as miraculous as you claim, you'll find them far more fitting customers. Our Seven Treasures Sect can even serve as an introducer, a bridge for your trade. What do you think?"
Those words struck like blades at Tang San's intent.
If not for Xiao Tian's earlier warning, Chen Xin might have agreed immediately to Tang San's first inflated proposal. To wealth like that of the Qibao Sect, five hundred gold soul coins a set was trivial. But Xiao Tian had spoken carefully of traps disguised as cooperation.
Yes—these crossbows helped. But at what scale?
Against low‑to‑mid soul masters, they were deadly. In small skirmishes, they provided self-defense. But when true calamity descended—Titled Douluo, organized Soul Hall deployments, the wars of empires—these weapons would lose all weight.
Such "tools" might grant arrogance, swelling heads of disciples who believed steel bolts made them invincible. That alone could spell tragedy.
As sect master, Ning Fengzhi knew: an auxiliary sect like theirs had no margin for wasting judgment.
Chen Xin's sharp eyes told the truth to himself: These weapons are only… like chicken ribs. Tasteless to eat, but a pity to discard.
Tang San, trying to regain control, forced a smile. "Then… Senior, what price do you deem fair?"
Chen Xin's lips curved. He raised one finger. "One hundred gold soul coins. A piece."
Tang San nearly staggered. His jaw clenched. "W-what! Senior Sword Douluo, surely you jest? You cannot leverage your title against me simply to bargain me down!"
Yu Xiaogang stepped forward abruptly. He could no longer stand idle as his disciple was pushed. "Senior Sword Douluo, don't you think that's cutting too low? Tang San's weapon has been tested. Two hundred and fifty gold coins would be a fairer figure, don't you think?"
Tang San swallowed his eruption, steadied his voice. "Yes… I can lower it. Two hundred and fifty coins."
From the sidelines, Xiao Tian's lips twitched. You're the idiot here, Tang San.
Chen Xin chuckled. "Two hundred and fifty? Too much. I'll give one hundred and ten coins each. And we will purchase five hundred units upfront."
The words fell firm as steel.
Tang San's face twisted, but he spat again, "Two hundred coins each then! And I'll throw in one silent sleeve arrow to sweeten it."
Chen Xin's smile vanished. His next words were slow, deliberate, and final:
"One last offer. One hundred and twenty gold soul coins each. Our sect will purchase one thousand Zhuge Divine Crossbows at once. Three volleys of arrows must be ready per weapon. We'll pay twenty percent deposit upfront. Take it—or leave it."
Tang San froze.
His eyes searched Sword Douluo's face, but no leeway glimmered there. Chen Xin's voice was resolute as tempered steel.
Tang San thought quickly. He understood—this was the limit. Any higher, Chen Xin would drop him entirely and recommend the crossbows to the empires directly, leaving him with nothing.
But with one thousand units—even at 120 coins apiece—his Tang Sect would net healthy profit. And once the weapons spread, his prestige would seed further advancement. Later… when the sect grew, he could renegotiate.
He forced a calming breath.
"…Alright. For Rongrong's sake, I'll extend this discount to your sect. We'll leave it at one hundred and twenty each."
He smiled thinly, handing over one of the finished crossbows. "Happy cooperation."
Inside, however, Tang San swore silently. Once the Seven Treasures Glazed Sect sees the strength of Tang Sect, they'll regret underpaying me.
But Chen Xin? His heart remained calm, utterly unmoved by the boy's "classmate bond" words.
Xiao Tian's warning echoed inside him. Partners, yes. Never friends. Just like our relations with the Heaven Dou royals. Each takes what they need, nothing more.
Don't let emotions tie the sect's throat.
And Chen Xin never forgot.
In the days that followed, routine settled. Xiao Tian taught sword control methods during daylight, guiding Xiao Wu, Zhu Zhuqing, and Ning Rongrong through failures and fragments of comprehension. By night, the Shrek group entered the Soto Arena, matching against various soul teams.
Chen Xin extended his stay, sending messengers with Tang San's item and his written letter back toward the Sect.
But he had another reason too—he grew enthralled by his constant discussions with Xiao Tian on the path of the sword. Those talks repeated and deepened. For the first time in years, Chen Xin felt he stood on the cusp of a breakthrough himself.
Level ninety-six was stable inside him. Ninety-seven called—close, pressing near.
Sometime soon, Chen Xin thought, glancing toward the black-haired youth whose every idea shed shackles from his own art. Within days, perhaps, I'll shatter into the next realm. I'll owe that chance… to Xuanyuan Tian.
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