Chapter Twenty-Two: Magical Artifacts! Magical Artifacts!

“Indeed.”
Qian Xiaoyue nodded.

Despite working under an alchemist, her monthly wage was not high. Even with her own painstaking efforts making talisman parchment to sell at her stall, she barely managed to earn just over ten low-grade spirit stones a month. This time, the harvest was equivalent to nearly a year’s worth of toil.

“However, these two have acted quite a few times this past year. Surely there should be more than just these, right? When listening before, I distinctly heard the term ‘magical artifact’ mentioned several times. Could they have already sold them off? Even the lowest grade magical artifact is worth at least one or two hundred low-grade spirit stones...”

Qian Xiaoyue couldn’t help but furrow her brow.

“Magical artifact?”

Zhou Changwang, upon hearing this, trembled slightly, a glimmer of excitement flashing in his eyes.

Magical artifacts were essential treasures for cultivators venturing outside. The difference between a cultivator with and without a magical artifact was worlds apart. For instance, Zhou Changwang, when faced with an assassination, would have been able to immediately counterattack if he had a magical artifact at hand. Ordinary martial artists, even the top innate ones, would never dare to recklessly attack a cultivator possessing a magical artifact.

Hearing that there might still be a magical artifact hidden in this room, Zhou Changwang could no longer sit still. He began a meticulous search, barely leaving any corner unchecked.

If there really was a magical artifact, he’d be making a fortune; two would be a windfall... three was beyond his wildest dreams.

Qian Xiaoyue was no different.

Finally, after the time it took a stick of incense to burn, the two exchanged glances, both showing disappointment.

They had practically turned the room upside down, not even sparing the corners of the living room, yet still found nothing.

Clearly, the notion of a magical artifact had been mere speculation.

“In that case, let’s divide the spoils,” Qian Xiaoyue finally said.

Zhou Changwang nodded, feeling a slight tension.

Though they had been neighbors for years, their relationship was little more than acquaintances; now, with interests involved, he could not guarantee what she might do.

After all, her cultivation was at the third layer of Qi Refining, a step above his own.

But upon careful observation, she made no unusual moves. Thinking it through, if she had truly wanted to seize all the spirit stones and goods for herself, she would not have invited him along in the first place. He felt somewhat reassured.

The two began moving all the items together.

The heaviest were the three large chests.

Then, there was a rice jar from the kitchen.

The jar itself was ordinary, but inside, instead of mundane rice, was spirit rice.

Not just spirit rice, but plump, crescent-shaped Moonrice grains.

Upon seeing this, Zhou Changwang’s eyes nearly turned green with envy.

He, a dignified cultivator at the second layer of Qi Refining, had still been eating ordinary rice until recently. Only after days of hard work had he finally tasted spirit rice and enjoyed a slightly happier life.

Yet these two mortal martial artists ate spirit rice every meal—moreover, the Moonrice was far pricier than Spirit Grain—leaving him feeling thoroughly unbalanced.

...

The rice jar held nearly fifty pounds of Moonrice. At a rate of one low-grade spirit stone for five pounds, this amounted to nearly ten stones, which he certainly wouldn’t miss.

He hoisted the jar, ready to carry it away, when his gaze suddenly sharpened.

“Fellow Daoist Qian, look here.”

Soon, Qian Xiaoyue hurried into the kitchen.

Beneath where the rice jar had stood, several bricks and soil were visibly different from their surroundings.

“Dig it up and see!” Qian Xiaoyue whispered, her voice calm but tinged with anticipation.

Zhou Changwang nodded. His spirit hoe had been broken in the previous fight, and lacking a suitable tool, he simply used the female martial artist’s longsword. With just a few strokes, he opened up the bricks and earth, quickly revealing a yellow canvas beneath.

“There really is something here.”

Excited, Zhou Changwang cleared away the soil and used the sword to lift the canvas.

Qian Xiaoyue eagerly took the canvas and began to open it, bit by bit.

Instantly, a small black dagger appeared before them.

It was not large, only eight inches long, with barely any handle—just enough for two fingers to grip. Its entire body was jet-black, with only the blade flashing cold light. Upon closer inspection, faint patterns could be seen etched along the blade.

It was remarkably light, almost weightless in the hand.

“A magical artifact. It really is a magical artifact.”

Qian Xiaoyue exclaimed, her gaze fixed upon the small dagger.

Zhou Changwang was astonished as well.

He had not expected to actually find a magical artifact.

Those two had hidden it well indeed.

Like a cunning rabbit with three burrows.

Were it not for moving the spirit rice, he never would have discovered this magical artifact.

“Fellow Daoist Zhou,”

Qian Xiaoyue could hardly tear her eyes from the black dagger as she turned to Zhou Changwang. “Let me have this magical artifact, what do you think?”

Zhou Changwang looked at her silently.

A magical artifact—who wouldn’t want it?

“I’ll take nothing else; everything else is yours. I only want this magical artifact, is that acceptable?”

Qian Xiaoyue spoke again, her tone solemn.

“Agreed.”

After a brief hesitation, Zhou Changwang nodded.

He did want the magical artifact, as it would directly strengthen his abilities.

But Qian Xiaoyue had helped him before; it was she who first suggested searching for spoils, and most importantly, though her cultivation was higher—third layer of Qi Refining—she had not used her strength to claim a greater share.

He was not one to be ungrateful.

The magical artifact was valuable, but the rest amounted to a considerable sum as well; he certainly was not losing out.

With the division settled, neither lingered further.

Qian Xiaoyue left with a light step.

Zhou Changwang, meanwhile, made three trips under cover of night to move all his gains into his own home.

“This time, I truly made a bountiful harvest.”

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Zhou Changwang gazed at his spoils, his mood exceedingly pleasant.

First, there were the three large chests, filled with gold, silver, jewels, and martial arts manuals. These held little value for him; he had no intention of hauling that chestful of gold to the Artifact Hall for three or five low-grade spirit stones.

Such an act would be too conspicuous.

It could easily invite unnecessary trouble.

Now that he lacked for nothing in spirit stones, there was no need to take such risks.

“And then the spirit stones.

A total of one hundred and forty-eight low-grade spirit stones.

Plus the eight I gained today, and five from yesterday... which means my total has reached one hundred and sixty-one low-grade spirit stones?”

He counted three times, joy swelling in his heart.

It was a veritable fortune.

Especially compared to his past.

He hadn’t just never owned so many spirit stones—he’d never even seen such a sum.