Stall owner:!!!

The eyes of the onlookers lit up.

This was a stall selling all kinds of groceries. The stall owner was dressed in a shabby gray coat, with messy hair, looking old and decrepit. The items on the tablecloth were all old things. Unexpectedly...

"Miss, do you want this? If not, I, Old Lin, will take it."

"I, I, I want one too. You name the price!"

The stall owner became anxious: "No, no, I won't sell it. I won't sell this thing!" He was about to rush over to grab it, but when he saw Xihe looking at him with a smile, he stopped awkwardly.

There is an unwritten rule in the world of cultivation that once a transaction is concluded, the seller cannot go back on his word.

Xihe just paid the spirit stones.

"Miss, look, this mid-grade spirit stone isn't suitable... Since you're so discerning about the value of things, aren't you trying to trick me, an old man?"

Upon hearing this, the looks of the people around them suddenly changed.

Xihe smiled and said, "This fellow Daoist is right. A medium-grade spirit stone is indeed not suitable."

"However, I didn't check the items carefully when I bought them just now, so accusing me of ripping people off is an exaggeration. In that case, how about a hundred high-grade spirit stones? Although the Five-Color Wood is rare, this price is still high at the auction house."

The stall owner's eyes widened instantly: "One hundred high-grade spirit stones?"

Xihe smiled and placed a storage bag on the table. There was a sound of rapid breathing around him. Without thinking, the stall owner grabbed it and stuffed it into his arms: "Okay, take it."

He didn't need it anyway, and if he got it back he would sell it. For one hundred high-grade spirit stones, he would make a lot of money!

The coveted five-color wood went into Xihe's pocket. The people around him were immediately envious and secretly hated themselves for not having a pair of sharp eyes and missing out on so many good things.

The group of people sighed and were about to disperse, but they saw the woman bending down and picking up a clod of earth.

Everyone:!!!

Stall owner:!!!

Xihe said to himself, "This is ginger yellow crystal, produced a thousand feet below the Great Desert in the west of Nanshan. The material is extremely hard and can hold a large amount of earth attribute spiritual energy. It is an excellent material for refining earth-protecting magic weapons."

After saying this, he put down the unremarkable lump of earth.

Everyone's eyes widened, and the next second they rushed forward, trying to grab the ginger crystal.

Xihe stood up and walked to the other side of the stall, looking at the various small bottles piled together casually. After a while, he picked out a green round bottle with a thin neck that could be held in one hand.

After a closer look, he said, "This is the Infinite Bottle. It absorbs spiritual energy once every seven days and can ripen plants that are a hundred years old."

The bottle was painted with exquisite dark green leaf-shaped patterns, just like any other small bottle. If Xihe hadn't been sharp-eyed, the stall owner would have given it as a gift to some lucky guy.

Everyone:!!!

The whole stall suddenly became bustling with people rushing to grab the goods.

"Ouch, be gentle, don't break it. If you break it, I won't forgive you... Five top-grade spirit stones! Three? No, no." The stall owner, a little old man, was very busy.

Meanwhile, Xihe had already left with a few stunned people.

It wasn't until they turned onto another street that Uncle Zhong's mouth finally closed. He looked at Xihe with admiration: "Young Madam, you know so much! You're amazing!"

Xihe smiled without saying anything and led a few people into a roadside teahouse.

There were many monks sitting in the teahouse, drinking tea leisurely. In the middle, a storyteller was telling a story eloquently. Several people chose a seat to sit down, ordered a cup of Yunwu Ling Tea, and looked towards the center.

"If you say that these four major sects are truly a gathering of stars, there are countless heroes."

"For example, Mo Xingchen from the Sword Sect, Fu Xiang from the Medicine Sect, Li Feiyun from the Li Sect, and Qingle from our Shangyuan Sect—they're all top-tier, unrivaled below the Nascent Soul stage... The sect competition that happens every fifty years is about to begin again. I wonder who will take the top spot this time!"

There was a sudden buzz of discussion in the hall, with everyone speculating on who the biggest winner would be.

"Of course it's our Senior Sister Qingle!"

This is the territory of Shangyuan Sect. There are many disciples in Shangyuan Sect, so naturally they bet on their own senior sister to win. For a moment, Qingle's voice was heard outside the window, attracting the attention of passers-by.

Fan Xiu couldn't help but look at Xihe, who shook his head slightly.

Sect competition?

Qingle is busy now, how can he have the time? He lowered his head and drank tea.

At this time, in a small town in Tianmu City, Qingle, whose meat buns were snatched away by a dog, was struggling to get up and chase after it. She had a really hard time during this period, and the government could not support her forever. After confirming that she had no relatives, they gave her some change and let her go.

An elderly man, alone, holding money, isn't this openly inviting robbery?

As soon as Qingle walked out of the yamen, she was targeted by several thugs. Without waiting for her to react, they pounced on her, robbed her of her money and ran away. Her legs were not flexible, so she stumbled and fell to the ground.

Fortunately, some kind vendors took her to the clinic.

Seeing that she was an elderly widower, the clinic offered her free treatment. When she was almost recovered, they kindly wanted to take her in, allowing her to sweep the floor in the yard and do other things within her ability, since she didn't eat much anyway.

“No need.”

Qingle left immediately.

She always felt that it was ridiculous, that everything shouldn't be like this...but how should it be?

Qingle was an old widower with no money or food. After two days of such a life, her simple brain could no longer think about such a big thing. She was hungry, very hungry, and she just wanted to fill her stomach.

"Go away, I'm not running a charity, go somewhere else to beg."

The pancake stall owner walked up and pushed her away.

A strong sense of shame swept over his body, and Qingle covered his face and ran away quickly.

Gurgle, gurgle,

Gradually she could no longer walk and fell to her knees.

"Hey, wake up. Do you want some juicy buns?"

Qingle opened her eyes, and in front of her was a skinny little face with bright eyes, wearing tattered clothes... Seeing that she was awake, he immediately put the hot buns in her hands and swallowed his saliva: "Eat quickly."

He obviously didn't want to eat it, but he still stubbornly stuffed the bun into her hands.

Qingle glanced at him weakly, took the bun, and began to eat it gracefully, bite by bite.

The little boy swallowed and asked, "Grandma, why are you here alone? Are you unwanted? I'm unwanted too, but you look like my grandmother. She has white hair and a hunched back, too."

"My grandmother is so kind. She sews clothes for me and makes delicious vegetable pancakes for me... Grandma, can you do that?"

Balabala, said a lot of words.

After Qingle finished eating, he closed his eyes, ignored him, and fell asleep on the haystack.

The little boy pursed his lips and sat aside with some disappointment.

From then on, Qingle lived a life supported by the little boy. Beggars were driven out of the town from time to time, so they moved to the outside of the city. The little boy got up early during the day to run errands for people in the town to earn money, and then ran back at night.

Every time he would have a plump meat bun in his arms.

Qingle slept from morning till night, and her only activity was to stagger to the nearby stream to wash her face and comb her hair. Although she was a homeless old woman, she was always neatly dressed, which made the other beggars very angry.

The accident happened one evening.