Emily Foster gave a graceful salute, her heart full of gratitude. Brian Carter noticed it was getting late and thought to himself, “I mustn’t return too late, or Master will scold me.” Since Mr. Lane had not yet formally accepted Brian Carter as a disciple, the young man held himself to high standards, never allowing himself to slack off, but instead remaining vigilant and self-reflective at all times. He feared that a single misstep would cost him this once-in-a-lifetime chance at immortality.

Brian Carter couldn’t recall how many stories he’d read in the notes of his ancestors—some people suddenly gained great fortune and were accepted by immortals as disciples, but because of greed or selfishness, or a penchant for fighting and bravado, their mortal hearts could not be stilled. In the end, they met with misfortune, squandering their opportunity for cultivation. Although Emily Foster seemed charming and lively, making Brian Carter feel some affection for her, he would never let himself become attached. He hurriedly bid Emily Foster farewell and headed first to the Western Market.

At that time, under the rule of the Tang dynasty, Buddhism and Daoism were both revered. In the Western Market, there were several shops selling kasayas, Daoist robes, alms bowls, wooden fish, fly-whisks, and other such items. The world was at peace, and prices were extremely low. Not to mention that Mr. Lane had given him a small pouch of gold; in the five-yin pouch he had obtained from the iron-backed gray wolf demon king, there was more than ten times the gold and silver that Mr. Lane had bestowed. Even if he bought out all the shops in the Western Market selling such goods, it would be more than enough. Although Brian Carter was young, these shops specialized in tailoring robes for young Daoist novices and Buddhist acolytes from the various temples in Chang’an, so there was no need for custom orders.

Brian Carter casually chose a very grand shop and bought two well-fitting Daoist robes. Remembering the silver fly-whisk used by the old Daoist during the reed mat contest earlier, he was suddenly struck by a whim and asked the shopkeeper, “Do you have any fine fly-whisks here?”

Brian Carter hadn’t really expected to buy any rare magical treasures; it was just a childish fancy. After all, this shop was run by ordinary people and was unlikely to have any immortal artifacts for sale. The shopkeeper, seeing Brian Carter’s generous spending, was naturally very enthusiastic. He immediately had his assistants bring out more than ten rosewood boxes, opening them one by one in front of Brian Carter, and said with a sheepish smile, “Young master, are you buying a gift for a favorite Daoist novice? These fly-whisks here are all the finest.”

The shop owner pointed to a jet-black fly-whisk and boasted, “The handle of this fly-whisk is made from thousand-year-old purple peach wood, and the silver threads are the mane of a silver suanni tribute from the Western Regions. There are no more than ten such pieces in all of Chang’an. If your favorite Daoist novice carries this fly-whisk, it will surely be a mark of great honor.”

Although Brian Carter’s clothes were plain, the gold and silver he carried were impressive, so the shopkeeper took him for a wealthy young master. But Brian Carter was from a modest family, just well-off enough to never worry about food or clothing, and had no idea that it was fashionable in Chang’an to keep catamites.

Unaware of this, Brian Carter listened to the shopkeeper’s extravagant praise. With a youthful heart and extra money in hand, he immediately said he would buy it.

The shopkeeper was even more delighted, quickly wrapping up the fly-whisk—made of who-knows-what wood and animal hair—and handing it to Brian Carter, secretly thinking, “Where did this nouveau riche come from? Not only does his attire fall short of our Chang’an standards, but even his taste and knowledge are abysmal. Thousand-year-old purple peach wood and silver suanni mane? I’ve never heard of any shop in Chang’an having such things, yet this little fool actually believes it.”

Though the shopkeeper looked down on him in his heart, his smile grew even brighter. Seeing Brian Carter about to leave, he thought, “With such a gullible customer, how can I not get him to buy a few more things? Who knows when I’ll meet another like him? I might as well sell him that item—otherwise, if it stays in the shop, I’ll never find a buyer, and people will laugh at me for being so blind as to accept such a dud.”

Brian Carter was about to leave when he heard the shopkeeper behind him loudly calling for him to stay. He couldn’t help but think, “I bought something, yet he’s so eager, as if he wants to sell me the whole shop. Did I buy something worthless? Am I that easy to fool?”

Brian Carter had always been clever and quick-witted, but coming from a small town, he knew nothing of the tricks of cunning merchants. Besides, he had never had so much gold and silver before, having come by it so suddenly, so he didn’t feel the need to be especially careful. But the shopkeeper’s overzealous attitude suddenly made Brian Carter feel annoyed, and he thought, “I must be careful not to be cheated and end up counting money for someone else. Still, I only bought two Daoist robes and a fly-whisk—even if they were expensive, I won’t suffer much loss. No matter what else the shopkeeper tries to sell me, I absolutely won’t buy it.”

Seeing the hesitation on Brian Carter’s face, the shopkeeper hurriedly greeted him with even more enthusiasm: “I see that young master is so devoted to the Dao, you must have some interest in Daoist magical implements. As it happens, our shop recently acquired a magical item—a monk from the Western Regions who participated in the Water and Land Assembly pawned it here for travel expenses. Would you care to take a look and give your opinion?”

Brian Carter had just witnessed the Water and Land Assembly and the reed mat contest today, and had fought side by side with Emily Foster against the iron-backed gray wolf demon king. He was indeed very interested in magical implements, and thought to himself, “It wouldn’t hurt to take a look, and it won’t take much time.”

The shopkeeper was overjoyed to see Brian Carter stop in his tracks. He immediately ordered an assistant to bring out a long sword in its scabbard from the back. The sword’s design was strange—longer and larger than the zhanmadao used by the army, and far beyond the swords carried by wandering swordsmen. Brian Carter was instantly intrigued, picked it up with one hand, and let out a grunt, finding the sword incredibly heavy.