Xie Zhaolin already had a good seven or eight-tenths of confidence in her mind, but her expression remained calm and unreadable.
She stepped slowly to the stall, not immediately asking about the forging, instead letting her eyes casually sweep over the few artifacts, as if she were just any ordinary customer.
The black-robed stall owner remained seated like a statue, seemingly unaware of her arrival.
Yet Xie Zhaolin's sharp senses picked up something subtle—at the moment she approached, the eyes beneath the deep shadow of the hood seemed to flicker toward her, though so faintly and obscured that she couldn't read any intent from them.
The atmosphere thickened with an almost imperceptible tension.
After a brief pause, she pointed to the few artifacts on the stall, her tone calm: "I'll take these. How many spirit stones?"
The black-robed owner didn't lift their head. Silently, one gloved hand extended, fingers forming a gesture for "four."
Xie Zhaolin's eyes flicked to the fully covered hand, a ripple of curiosity passing through her—this person was cautious to the extreme, not even willing to reveal a shred of skin.
She didn't haggle. Instead, she pulled out a storage pouch she had prepared in advance and handed it over.
Inside was exactly forty-three thousand two hundred ten high-grade spirit stones, along with an equivalent value in middle- and low-grade spirit stones.
The number might seem arbitrary, but it was a secret code among battle cultivators in her previous life, signaling a specific identity and intention.
The black-robed owner took the pouch, letting their divine sense scan it. Their movement froze for an instant, and the eyes beneath the hood seemed to linger on Xie Zhaolin with a faint trace of scrutiny and doubt.
At that moment, Xie Zhaolin lowered her voice to a level only the two of them could hear, quickly uttering an extremely short code—another secret from her previous life's battle cultivators, used to identify allies and seek help. Only insiders would recognize it.
The stall owner's body tensed subtly the instant they heard it.
A moment of silence followed as they seemed to weigh their options, then slowly nodded.
The black-robed owner rose, signaling Xie Zhaolin to follow, preparing to pack up and leave.
Mo Yan, who had quietly followed behind, naturally stepped forward as well.
But the moment he moved, the black-robed owner froze abruptly and spun around!
Their previously calm aura sharpened to a deadly edge, eyes locking onto Mo Yan with unyielding focus.
A low, cold voice, tinged with disbelief, came from beneath the hood:
"Demon!"
Just one word.
Mo Yan's face changed instantly, eyes wide with shock and disbelief!
The artifact hiding his identity was a secret treasure granted by the Demon Sovereign, confident even a Nascent Soul cultivator couldn't detect it. Yet this person… this person had identified his roots at a single glance without him releasing a shred of demonic qi.
How was that even possible?
Xie Zhaolin felt her mind jolt. She was surprised, but more than that, there was a confirmation deep inside: she had definitely found the right person. Their sensitivity to demonic qi was extraordinary, far beyond what any ordinary artifact master could achieve.
Even more startling, though the voice was low and hoarse, Xie Zhaolin recognized it as female—deep, hoarse, yet unmistakably feminine.
The black-robed female cultivator's aura instantly turned extremely dangerous and alert. She fixed her gaze on Mo Yan, then snapped a glance at Xie Zhaolin, leaning back slightly, clearly viewing Mo Yan as a serious threat and ready to either strike or escape at a moment's notice.
Clearly, the appearance of a demon had fully triggered her instincts and defensive threshold.
The atmosphere turned tense, every second thick with imminent danger.
Xie Zhaolin didn't hesitate. She stepped half a pace forward, positioning herself between Mo Yan and the stall owner, her eyes calm as she lowered her voice:
"Senior, wait! He may be a demon, but he's already acknowledged me as his master and is under my control. He won't harm you! I've come sincerely seeking your forging, with no other intention. This concerns my path, so please, hear me out!"
As she spoke, she subtly signaled Mo Yan to suppress all his aura while releasing a faint, clear slave contract fluctuation between them as proof.
The black-robed female's spiritual force momentarily wavered, eyes scanning back and forth between Xie Zhaolin and Mo Yan, seemingly judging the truth in her words.
When she sensed the clear, strong slave contract, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes.
She could feel that this woman's aura was pure human cultivator, and the contract's strength wasn't false. It meant this demon was completely under the human's control, life and death entirely at her discretion.
A human woman at the Golden Core stage… capable of enslaving a demon of considerable strength? And judging by the demon's aura, it wasn't a low-rank beast either.
This alone was extraordinary.
Her eyes swept over Xie Zhaolin's calm, unreadable face, then flicked to Mo Yan, standing silently behind.
After a brief moment of weighing risks, the tense, nearly explosive danger in her aura relaxed slightly. She gave Xie Zhaolin a long, sharp look, then nodded, signaling her to follow.
Without another glance at Mo Yan, she turned and headed deeper into a more secluded path in the black market.
Xie Zhaolin relaxed slightly, knowing the first hurdle was cleared.
About the time it takes to burn an incense stick later, they emerged from a highly hidden exit in the underground black market, back to the surface.
The exit opened into a narrow, filthy alley, the air heavy with mold and the stench of rotting trash.
The black-robed female didn't pause. In a flash, she leapt to a nearby rooftop, moving silently along the series of connected roofs.
The three of them, under the cover of night and buildings, entered the northwest corner of Heiyan City, even more desolate and quiet.
Finally, the black-robed female stopped in front of a seemingly inconspicuous courtyard.
Inside, it was tidier than it looked from the outside, yet still simple. Stone tables and tools for artifact forging were arranged neatly, and in the corners, piles of ores and materials emitted a faint metallic and fiery scent.
She closed the door behind them, activated the courtyard's protective barriers, but didn't remove her hood, keeping her face hidden in shadow.
She turned, pointing first at Xie Zhaolin, then at Mo Yan, her gaze sharp, silently demanding an explanation.
Clearly, she wanted to know about the presence of this demon.