Jiang Zuo smiled when he saw the man. He’d seen this person a few times already. Three, was it?

The first time, he was going to give him a great fortune. The second time, he offered a batch of good Magical Treasures. The third time, he sold him quite a few rare items.

In a way, whenever this Daoist appeared, premium goods were sure to follow.

So, the moment he saw him, Jiang Zuo walked over.

Just then, Mo Yan asked, "Doesn’t that guy look a little familiar to you all?"

Chi Xue Child also said, "The, uh, weapons seller?"

Liuyue Xue nodded and typed out a line of text. But just as she was about to show it to Chi Xue Child and the others, she realized they had already walked toward the stall.

No one stayed behind to hear what she had to say.

Liuyue Xue looked up at them, her expression... icy.

Her face was icy twenty-four hours a day.

At that moment, Mo Yan, who was up ahead, suddenly asked, "Do you think something’s gotten to Liuyue Xue? It’s one thing not to like talking, but she has a sour face all day. Is there a reason for it?"

Chi Xue Child shook his head. "I don’t know. I’ve asked several times but never got an answer."

Jiang Zuo, walking at the very front, suddenly said, "Probably just eighth-grader syndrome."

Liuyue Xue: "..."

Meanwhile, the Daoist felt a little panicked when he saw Jiang Zuo approaching.

He looked at the fishing rod in his hand and thought today wasn’t a good day for this kind of business.

’Maybe I should switch professions?’

But then he thought about it again and came to his senses. ’Switch professions my ass! Everything I’m selling today is fake, so why would I switch?’

This time, he had specifically chosen only counterfeit goods. What was there to be afraid of?

So the Daoist went right up to greet them, smiling. "Young friend, here to buy something again? The items I sell are always a great value for the price."

"Take a look at this, the Broken Bridge Pole. It’s said that back in the day..."

Jiang Zuo merely glanced at the fishing rod, then at the other poles on the stall.

In the end, he turned and left without even waiting for the Daoist to finish.

There was nothing here that he wanted.

The middle-aged Daoist was stunned for a moment. ’This guy... he’s certainly got a personality.’

’But why is he so damn annoying?’

The middle-aged Daoist then chased after him. "Young friend, the Broken Bridge Fishing Rod is a treasure of heaven and earth! Missing out on it is the same as letting a world-shaking fortune slip through your fingers."

"Don’t go, young friend! This fishing rod..."

"It’s a fake," Jiang Zuo said, stopping in his tracks and cutting the middle-aged Daoist off without hesitation.

"..." ’If it wasn’t a fake, why would I be trying so hard to sell it to you?’

The middle-aged Daoist continued, "There’s something you don’t know, young friend. The Broken Bridge Pole itself is ordinary. Its true magical quality lies in..."

"It lies in the fact that it won’t break. Do you dare let me try to snap it?" Jiang Zuo interrupted him again.

The middle-aged Daoist’s brow twitched. ’Why won’t this person let me finish?’

The most important thing about the Broken Bridge Pole is the Artifact Spirit. The Artifact Spirit!

But it’s precisely because of the Artifact Spirit that it won’t break.

And any fishing rod that can be broken couldn’t possibly be a Broken Bridge Pole.

The middle-aged Daoist said, "Fellow Daoist, my shop is honest with everyone, and we’ll compensate you ten times over for any fakes. We sell reputation, we sell service..."

Jiang Zuo couldn’t be bothered with him and just walked away.

But Mo Yan asked, "How much for this fishing rod?"

"An Unparalleled Fishing Rod, an Ancient Treasure! Take it home for just one Third Grade spirit stone," the middle-aged Daoist said.

Mo Yan immediately retorted, "A Third Grade Ancient Treasure? Even an idiot would know it’s a fake, right? Who are you trying to fool?"

The middle-aged Daoist then leaned closer to Mo Yan. "Here’s the deal. If it comes to it, I can just give you eleven fishing rods..."

SLAP~

A crisp sound echoed all around.

Jiang Zuo turned back to look and saw Mo Yan standing there, dumbfounded. She had just slapped the Daoist across the face.

She had no idea what had just happened.

She was about to explain, but when she looked up, she saw many people pointing at her, as if to say, ’See that? That’s the Demon Cultivator Mo Yan. I’ve seen her before. She’s an especially vicious Demon Cultivator.’

Thinking this, Mo Yan confidently puffed out her chest and raised her head. "This is the price for trying to cheat me, the Demon Cultivator Mo Yan! Selling fakes? I’ll beat you so badly your own family won’t recognize you."

Mo Yan felt that she must be cutting a particularly grand and imposing figure, the kind that would make people bow their heads in fear.

However, the actual whispers from the crowd were: "Who is this woman? Is she an idiot? She slapped someone and ended up looking stunned herself."

After she announced her name, the discussion became: "Who did she just say she was? Demon Cultivator Mo Yan? If you’re going to impersonate someone, at least get the gender right. Demon Cultivator Mo Yan is a man. She doesn’t even know basic common knowledge."

In short, it was a bit different from what Mo Yan had expected, but as long as she was happy, that was all that mattered.

Chi Xue Child and the others had no intention of telling Mo Yan any of this.

They felt that Mo Yan’s "moron disease" might still need a few days to recover.

Jiang Zuo, however, wasn’t paying much attention to Mo Yan. He was watching the Daoist instead.

This was the second time he had seen this Daoist get slapped in the face.

Jiang Zuo hadn’t gotten a clear look the first time, but this time he roughly understood. This middle-aged Daoist would probably never be able to start a harem in this lifetime.

Whether it was a problem with his constitution or his cultivation, Jiang Zuo couldn’t yet tell. But one thing was certain: women didn’t need a reason to slap him. It was his passive skill.

The Daoist then said in surprise, "Did I do something wrong today? Did I miscalculate the date?"

"Oh, right. It’s because I’m only selling fakes today."

Then he subconsciously glanced at Jiang Zuo. ’Sell real goods?’

’Give money to this guy?’

Heh, he would rather give up on having a harem for the rest of his life than give money to him.

The bastard was too ruthless, taking five items at once.

The Daoist then made up his mind. He would switch professions for the day after all.

The fishing rod vanished, and the stall disappeared with it. Then, two words appeared on his clothes: Demi-Immortal.

Then he looked at Jiang Zuo and said solemnly, "Young friend, I observe that you are plagued by misfortune. Do you require a method to resolve it?"

’A Dual Cultivation Skill?’

Jiang Zuo then walked up to the Daoist and said, "I’m married. I have a wife."

The Daoist’s brow furrowed.

’What does he mean by that?’

Then Jiang Zuo continued, "My wife is very beautiful. She’s gentle, virtuous, and understanding."

"So, I don’t need to start a harem."

"What about you?"

The Daoist’s brow twitched violently. ’He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he?’

’Is he here just to show off?’

The Daoist then said, "Little Daoist friend, do you have the guts to take down the sound-proofing barrier and repeat what you just said? I would be willing to offer you the Broken Bridge Pole with both hands."

"Besides, you look like you’re struggling."

Jiang Zuo: "..."

Jiang Zuo wasn’t used to saying such things in public. He only wanted to jab the Daoist’s heart a little.

He just hadn’t expected to have the tables turned on him.

Unfortunately, an old man like him hadn’t yet reached the point of being shameless.

He didn’t want to lose his old face, so after a moment of staring at the Daoist, Jiang Zuo turned and left.

The Daoist felt especially cheerful today, and a smile couldn’t help but creep onto his lips.

Today was indeed a good day for fortune-telling.

Just then, Liuyue Xue walked up to the Daoist’s side. She looked at the middle-aged Daoist with a puzzled expression, and then her hand moved involuntarily.

SLAP...

Another crisp sound.

The smile was still hanging on the Daoist’s lips.

The middle-aged Daoist: "..."

"See? Was I right? You just slap him without meaning to. I’ll go over and do it again to show you all!" Demon Cultivator Mo Yan exclaimed excitedly.

"..."