Wang Hao nodded in satisfaction and placed the other egg into the spiritual liquid. Seeing that the liquid's potency had dropped considerably, he refined another batch to top it up.
He hadn't expected all five insect eggs to hatch. He'd have been thrilled if even two—or even just one—Illusory Moon Butterflies emerged. After all, they ranked seventy-eighth on the Celestial Spirit Insect List! There are countless spirit insects in this world, and those that make the list are extraordinary. A rank in the seventies was nothing to scoff at.
Once he had settled the eggs, Wang Hao decided to go for a stroll. He'd been in Qingyuan City for several days and, apart from the swap fair, hadn't really explored it.
Today he headed for the wandering cultivators' stalls. Who knows—he might find a bargain!
Qingyuan City was well planned. The errant cultivators' stalls clustered around a small square just inside the North Gate.
Wang Hao strolled casually. It wasn't much different from Qingniu, but here even Foundation Establishment cultivators manned booths. The variety of goods was staggering—second-tier items included.
"Oh? What kind of wine is this? It smells divine!" Wang Hao stopped at an elderly vendor in mid-Qi Refinement, pointing at the gourd flask he held.
The old man's stall was modest: some animal pelts, blank talisman paper, a few low-grade magical trinkets. Spotting interest, he hurried to explain:
"Ah, this is Crimson Blood Liquor, a spirit wine brewed with Blood Crimson Ginseng. It heals wounds and restores spiritual power!" He produced a fresh gourd flask. "Care to sample?"
Wang Hao shook his head:
"I'm not interested in your wine—I want the recipe!" He had his farm's harvest at home, and a liquor formula would elevate him further.
The old man's face darkened.
"That recipe's how I make my living! If you're not buying, please move on!"
A nearby vendor laughed:
"Old Zou, why flog these scraps? Your wine costs more than a tavern's and tastes worse. Who'd buy it? This Daoist wants your recipe—you'd be starving on the streets soon if you don't sell it!"
Old Zou spat back:
"I'd starve first before squandering my ancestral recipe!"
"That's 'cause you use low-grade ingredients. If you aged them properly, your liquor would sell itself!"
"They're my ingredients, I choose their age. I'm not selling!" Old Zou refused, unmovable.
Wang Hao pressed on:
"Daoist Zou, please reconsider—price is negotiable!"
"I said no, and no I mean!" the old man snapped.
Wang Hao's mind raced. Then he asked:
"Would you work for me instead, brewing wine at my shop?"
The old man brightened. Homeless and hungry, a steady job meant survival.
"How much salary? Lodging and meals? And I must stay here in Qingyuan!"
Wang Hao smiled:
"Thirty spirit stones a year—my Wang Family's wage. Lodging and meals included. You'll work here in Qingyuan!"
"I'm from the Wang Family in Qingniu City. Join us and you'll be our honored guest." He gestured at the stall. "Swear by your Dao Heart to harm no one in my family and work at least ten years, and I'll buy every item in your booth as a hiring gift!"
"I have a high-grade magical item, the Heaven-Turn Seal, plus odds and ends worth 240 spirit stones. You'll really buy it all?" Old Zou eyed him warily—few outside disciples possessed that many stones.
The other vendor scoffed:
"Kid, don't be fooled. Old Zou's junk is worthless. Who drops a hundred stones on a cracked Seal? You'd pay more for a new artifact at Qingyuan Pavilion! What nerve to ask full price!"
"Ge Er, don't humiliate me. One more word and I'll break with you!"
"Break? I'm not scared of you. I just can't stand you swindling Daoists here. People offer to help, and you? Pathetic! You're so old you might as well have hatched from a dog's belly!"
Wang Hao examined the Heaven-Turn Seal curiously. It was a yellow-earth hue, clearly an earth-attribute spirit material, with a small crack. Paying a hundred stones would be a loss—but a protagonist's heirloom often carried a story. On a whim, he decided it was worth it.
Clearing his throat, he offered:
"Let me pay 150 spirit stones. Do we have a deal?"
"One-hundred's too low…" Old Zou began to balk, but as Wang Hao turned to leave, he hastily conceded:
"Daoist, deal—150!"
"High price!" Ge Er shook his head. Wang Hao folded his hands in thanks:
"I appreciate the warning, Daoist."
"No, you two made the deal. I'm the pest here!" Ge Er laughed.
Wang Hao escorted Old Zou back to the shop.
"This will be your workplace from now on. Oh—I never asked your name. I'm Wang Hao."
Old Zou looked disappointed at the shop's small size, but at least it was a roof. He bowed:
"Greetings, Master. My surname is Zou—Zou Renhe. Folks call me Old Zou."
"I'll call you Old Zou from now on!"
Old Zou protested:
"I don't dare—Your cultivation's profound…"
Wang Hao waved him off:
"Nonsense. You've joined the Wang Family as our guest, so we're one family. We seniority respect age, not cultivation. You're older, so 'Old Zou' suits you!"
Old Zou bowed humbly:
"I gladly accept." Then cautiously asked:
"Where are the wine-brewing materials? And the spirit stones…"
"You'll receive them once you swear the Dao Heart vow. You'll lack neither materials nor stones!"
Old Zou swore by his Dao Heart. Wang Hao wasted no time and paid him the 150 spirit stones. He also handed over 100 fifty-year Blood Crimson Ginseng and 100 ten-year ones:
"Use these ingredients for now. The shop will procure more related materials. When will your spirit wine be ready?"