Chapter 41 A sliver of ginseng startles the ghost market; even the old fox Qian has to kneel!
The jeep stopped in the woods a kilometer away from the brickyard, disappearing into the darkness like a steel behemoth.
Lu Zhanting and Su Wanqing got out of the car, their figures instantly swallowed by the night.
From the shadows, a figure emerged—it was Chen Chong, the captain of the "Sharp Sword" squad, who reported in a low voice.
"Boss, there are three outposts on the outside, and two groups of snipers have locked onto all the high ground. Not even a fly can get out."
Lu Zhanting's voice was as cold as ice in the night.
"Proceed according to plan. Do not act without my order."
"yes!"
Without another word, Lu Zhanting led Su Wanqing along the deserted path toward the dark outline of the buildings.
The closer you get, the more strange the air feels.
The place was deathly silent, except for the sound of the wind blowing into the abandoned cave dwellings, which made a sobbing sound.
In the tall weeds, I always felt as if countless eyes were secretly watching me.
Su Wanqing pressed down her straw hat; she knew it wasn't an illusion.
This forgotten ruin is a hunting ground for another group of people.
At the entrance of the brick kiln, a dim kerosene lamp flickered in the wind, illuminating a small stall selling sugar paintings.
The stall owner was thin and withered, head down, drawing a picture of Sun Wukong with sugar syrup, oblivious to everything around him.
Lu Zhanting stepped forward and gently placed the small brass abacus on the stall.
There was no sound.
The man painting the sugar art paused for a moment.
He looked up, revealing an ordinary face, except for his eyes, which darted around like a monkey's, full of alertness.
His gaze swept over the abacus, then lingered on Lu Zhanting and Su Wanqing's faces.
"Uncle He's men?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Lu Zhanting nodded almost imperceptibly.
The man asked no more questions, quickly packed up his stall, and stuffed all his belongings into a tattered wooden box.
"Come with me."
He carried a kerosene lamp and led the two around to a dilapidated wall covered with vines at the back of the brickyard.
He fumbled on the wall for a moment, then gave it a sudden push.
"Squeak—"
The wall opened inward, revealing a dark passageway that could only accommodate one person at a time.
A gust of wind, mixed with the smells of dust, mildew, and blood, rushed out.
“Once inside, you’ll be the ‘shopkeeper,’ and he’ll be the ‘waitress.’” The man pointed at Su Wanqing, then at Lu Zhanting. “My name is Monkey, and I’ll be your guide.”
The monkey's voice was even lower, carrying a warning tone.
"The rules of the Ghost Market: Don't ask where you came from, don't ask your name, don't ask where you came from. If you see something you like, negotiate the price, and the money is exchanged. Once you leave this place, your life or death is no longer relevant to the Ghost Market."
"Understood." Su Wanqing's voice was deliberately made somewhat rough.
"Let's go."
The monkey carrying the lantern led the way, squeezing into the passage first.
The passage was narrow, the stone slabs underfoot were uneven, and water droplets seeped from the walls, making it cold and chilling.
About five minutes later, the view suddenly opened up.
A vast underground world beyond imagination unfolds before your eyes.
This place was formed by connecting and reinforcing countless huge cave dwellings, creating a vast underground market.
Countless lanterns and torches hung high and low, casting dappled light and shadows, and the shadowy figures moved about, like a procession of ghosts at night.
The smells in the air were even more complex, a mixture of herbs, musty antiques, rusty metal, and blood, creating a dizzying odor.
It was noisy, but all the sounds were deliberately suppressed: whispered conversations, heated arguments, and the clinking of gold and silver created an eerie symphony.
Almost everyone in the market was disguised.
A hideous ghost mask, a cloak covering the whole body, or a simple disguise like Su Wanqing's.
Everyone is like a vigilant shadow, observing others and being observed by others.
Su Wanqing's gaze swept over a stall with several bloodstained animal hides on it. In a corner next to it, a wooden sign in front of a man in black robes read "Buy a Life".
This is the ghost market in Beijing.
A lawless gray area hidden beneath the glitz and glamour.
Lu Zhanting moved forward half a step without making a sound, completely protecting Su Wanqing behind him. His eyes were like those of a hawk, quickly scanning every face around them.
"The Ghost Market is divided into three sections," the monkey whispered. "The outermost section is a general merchandise area, where it's hard to tell the real from the fake; you have to rely entirely on your eyesight. Inside is 'Bai Cao Tang,' which specializes in medicinal herbs. And at the very back is 'Qi Zhen Ge,' which ordinary people can't enter."
“Let’s go to Baicaotang,” Su Wanqing said.
The monkey nodded and led them through the chaotic grocery section.
A rich aroma of herbs wafted over, and we arrived at Baicaotang.
This area is quieter and brighter than the general merchandise area, the stalls are neatly arranged, and the stall owners seem more professional.
"Shopkeeper, this is the place." The monkey pointed to an empty corner.
Su Wanqing nodded and took out a piece of coarse cloth from the cloth bag and spread it out.
She didn't rush to reveal her trump card, but instead took out a ginseng root of average quality, about twenty years old.
Then, she sat cross-legged, lowered her eyes, and became calm and composed, as if in deep meditation.
Lu Zhanting stood behind her like a silent iron tower, his arms crossed. The scar on his brow bone looked particularly ferocious under the light, and he exuded a menacing aura that said "keep away."
Soon, people were drawn over.
"Boss, what's the deal with this ginseng?" a man with a hoarse voice asked.
Su Wanqing didn't even lift her eyelids, but held up five fingers.
"Fifty dollars? That's robbery!" the man scoffed, then turned and walked away.
Su Wanqing remained unmoved.
She knew very well that in the ghost market, patience was more important than the goods.
Several more groups of people arrived one after another, but none of their offers elicited any response from her.
She is waiting, waiting for someone who truly appreciates her talent and has the necessary influence.
Half an hour later, an elderly man wearing a long gown, round sunglasses, and a meticulously groomed goatee walked to the stall with the help of a young man.
He stopped, sniffed the air lightly, and let out a soft exclamation.
He squatted down, his gaze falling on the ginseng.
"Young shopkeeper, may I have a look at this ginseng?" His voice was gentle, yet it carried an aura that was not to be underestimated.
Su Wanqing looked up and met his gaze.
She nodded and handed over the ginseng.
The old man took it, placed it under his nose, and took a deep breath.
"Such a pure ginseng aroma," he praised. "Mountain spring water, humus soil, without a trace of the unpleasant smell of sulfur ripening agents."
He took out a handkerchief, held the ginseng, and carefully examined its texture and roots.
"The reed is tightly packed, the skin is old and the wrinkles are deep; it's a good ginseng." He nodded, then asked the crucial question, "Young shopkeeper, is this ginseng wild or cultivated?"
“Half wild, half domesticated,” Su Wan-qing finally spoke.
This is jargon, meaning that high-quality ginseng seedlings are transplanted deep into the mountains and allowed to grow naturally, resulting in medicinal properties far superior to those grown in greenhouses.
A glint of light flashed in the old man's eyes behind his sunglasses.
"Name your price." He was tempted.
Su Wanqing countered, "What price do you think it's worth, sir?"
The old man smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Young shopkeeper, that's not honest. You've been sitting here for half a day, waiting not for this old man, but for someone who wants to catch a big fish."
He saw right through Su Wanqing's thoughts.
Su Wanqing knew in her heart that she had encountered a cunning old fox.
She simply took back the ginseng and took out another item wrapped in layers of oiled paper from the inner layer of the cloth package.
She slowly and methodically peeled off the oil paper, layer by layer.
When the last layer was unveiled, an aroma of ginseng, ten times stronger and more domineering than before, exploded out!
It was a small section of ginseng root, only about the length of a little finger, yellowish-brown all over, with fine horizontal lines like brocade.
The moment the old man with the goatee saw the roots, his breath caught in his throat!
He leaned forward, staring intently at the root, his lips trembling.
“Fifty years...no, more than that! This is...the rootlets of a hundred-year-old ginseng!” His voice trembled, no longer an exclamation, but a low growl filled with awe.
The sound was like a boulder crashing into a pond.
The eyes of all the stall owners and buyers around instantly turned into sharp arrows, all aimed at Su Wanqing's stall!
Greed, shock, covetousness.
Lu Zhanting moved slightly, and a chilling killing intent spread out like a tide.
Several restless figures froze on the spot, as if doused with ice water.
"Sir, you have a good eye." Su Wanqing quickly wrapped the ginseng rootlets in oiled paper.
"Sell it to me!" The old man grabbed Su Wanqing's wrist, his voice urgent. "Young shopkeeper, name your price! I want it no matter the price!"
"I don't lack money." Su Wanqing's answer surprised the old man.
"I only need two things." Su Wanqing stared at him, saying each word clearly, "Dragon Blood Vine, Nine-Leaf Ginseng. Or, their whereabouts."
The old man's brows furrowed instantly.
"Young manager, you're putting me in a difficult position." He smiled wryly. "These two items are legendary holy medicines, priceless and unavailable. Although I, Qian, have some influence at Baicaotang, I don't have such extraordinary abilities."
"Never mind then." Su Wanqing made a move to pack up, decisively and cleanly.
"Wait!" Old Man Qian exclaimed anxiously.
He leaned closer, his voice hushed: "I don't have the item itself, but I can give you directions. In three days, the Rare Treasures Pavilion will hold an internal auction, and the grand finale will be a 'Purple Gold Dragon King Ginseng' dug up from Changbai Mountain. It's said that where the ginseng was found, dragon blood vines grew alongside it!"
Su Wanqing's heart skipped a beat.
"I can't get into the Pavilion of Rare Treasures."
“Normally, you wouldn’t be able to get in,” Old Man Qian stared at her, “but now, that might not be the case.”
He looked at the packet of ginseng roots, a struggle flashing in his eyes before turning into resolute determination.
"I'll take this ginseng root. I'll trade 20% of the goods from my 'Qian's Ginseng and Deer Antler Shop' for it!"
Upon hearing this, even the men behind him changed their expressions!
Qian's Ginseng and Deer Antler Shop is the leading enterprise of Baicaotang. Two-tenths of their products are enough to buy a courtyard house in Beijing!
This is no longer a transaction, it's a high-stakes gamble!
Su Wanqing shook her head.
Old Man Qian's heart sank.
“Old sir,” Su Wanqing took out a blue-and-white porcelain bottle from his bosom and poured out a dark brown pill, “you seem to have weak qi and have been coughing at night for more than three months, haven’t you?”
Old Man Qian's pupils suddenly contracted!
"This is a 'Qi-boosting pill,' please try it."
Old Man Qian took the pill, hesitated for a moment, and then swallowed it in one gulp.
A warm current burst forth from his dantian and surged through his limbs and bones. The stuffiness and stinging pain in his chest after the long cough disappeared without a trace in just a few breaths!
He looked at Su Wanqing in shock, his eyes completely changed.
This isn't a ginseng seller; this is clearly a highly skilled pharmacist in disguise!
A single piece of ginseng root that's a hundred years old is already a priceless treasure.
The value of a pharmacist who can refine such miraculous medicines is immeasurable!
"Manager Su!" Old Man Qian stood up and bowed deeply to Su Wanqing. "I was blind to your greatness! I want the ginseng rootlets. 30% of 'Qian's Ginseng and Deer Antler Shop' stock, plus this plaque, is enough for you to enter any auction at the Qizhen Pavilion!"
He pulled out a pure black iron plaque from his pocket, on which was only an ancient-style character for "money".
30% of the goods!
This boldness surprised even Su Wanqing.
"make a deal."
He traded a ginseng root that was nothing to him for a huge amount of medicinal herbs, an admission ticket to the Rare Treasures Pavilion, and clues to the Dragon Blood Vine, thus establishing his reputation as a "mysterious pharmacist".
This deal was incredibly profitable.
The handover process was swift.
With the monkeys as witnesses, Old Man Qian's assistant, despite the pain in his eyes, counted out 30% of the medicinal herbs and packed them into three large sacks.
Lu Zhanting easily lifted the hundreds of kilograms of sack with one hand, his terrifying strength extinguishing all malicious glances from those around him.
"Manager Su, see you at the Treasure Pavilion in three days." Old Man Qian cupped his hands, his attitude extremely respectful.
With her "first pot of gold" and the heavy iron plaque, Su Wanqing disappeared into the passage under the escort of the monkey.
Back in the jeep in the woods, the sky was already beginning to lighten.
Su Wanqing stroked the cold iron plate, her eyes burning with rage.
The ghost market did not disappoint her.
The auction three days later will be the real den of dragons and tigers.
She was determined to have that "Purple Gold Dragon King Ginseng"!
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