The fragnt seems to have the shape of a dragon and a tiger, a faint cold light penetrating the soul.
Just a glance, and Zhang Fan stopped in his tracks, unable to move his gaze away, as if sothing in the void connected him, deeply attracted to that tal fragnt.
"What is this?" Zhang Fan pointed at the tal fragnt, unable to resist asking.
At this mont, the sleepy stall owner finally lifted his head. An old man with a nose full of broken capillaries, gray eyebrows, wearing a shabby cotton coat and a pair of slippers with cartoon patterns.
He squinted, looking at the tal fragnt, then at Zhang Fan.
"Young man, you have a good eye, this is the most valuable treasure in my stall."
As he spoke, the old man with the nose full of broken capillaries picked up the tal fragnt, speaking eloquently.
"This thing was collected from a Daoist temple in Xijiang Province, a temple hidden in the deep mountains, at least dating back to the Tang and Song periods, over a thousand years old..." The old man's thick fingers, like carrots, rubbed the tal fragnt in his hand.
"This treasure was discovered in that Daoist temple, worshipped on the Divine Altar in the inner hall, it should be a fragnt of a magic sword," the old man with the nose full of broken capillaries said with utmost certainty.
"A magic sword fragnt!?" Zhang Fan's eyes slightly narrowed.
"Old man, are you kidding? This broken piece of iron can be related to a magic sword?" Fang Changle glanced at it and couldn't help but laugh.
A magic sword, the holy artifact of ancient tis, of supre nobility, revered by both humans and gods. Daoists all liked it, used for self-defense while traveling, clearing filth and summoning generals when erected on an altar.
Because of this, magic swords are extrely difficult to forge, so Daoists, entering deep mountains for profound cultivation, spending their entire lives, wanting to forge a magic sword, yet never achieving it.
There are many thods for forging magic swords, all secret traditions.
In the [Daoist Canon] there is a record: Any Daoist learning should know how to make a great sword technique, fast for a hundred days, taking nine jin of iron from Shanzhou, making a furnace with red soil, making a mold with yellow soil. lting iron with fierce fire to make liquid, facing south, adjourned to the Celestial Gate. Recite the True Words of the Twenty-Four Generals, draw twenty-four talismans, make a pill with vermillion and wine, open the furnace and throw the iron liquid in...
This is just one thod of forging a magic sword with written records, and the process is extrely complex.
Throughout history, in the Daoist sect, if a magic sword is forged in any mountain or sect, it is passed down to the later generations, inheriting in order, worshipped with incense, having abilities beyond the mystical, with machine-like precision that even heaven and earth cannot comprehend.
Ancients also called it "Sword Refining Immortal."
Fang Changle, born in Maoshan, had naturally seen a real magic sword, and still had so discernnt.
This tal fragnt is unassuming, even with rusty stains on the surface, even if it's just a fragnt, it is definitely not the quality a magic sword should have.
"Young man, there are many kinds of magic swords, and there are grades too, this is just a fragnt, do you think it is the [Three-Five Evil Slayer] of Dragon Tiger Mountain? Does it need to have visions that amaze the world?" the old man with the nose full of broken capillaries sneered.
The Three-Five Evil Slayer, known as the first magic sword among the Daoist sect.
In the Daoist sect, there are three treasures, talisman, seal, and sword.
Back then, the ancestral master of Dragon Tiger Mountain, Zhang Daoling, realized the Dao at He Ming Mountain, encountering Taishang Laojun, the latter imparting the Celestial Book and Pill Scroll, gifting three treasures: talisman, seal, and sword.
Among them, the magic sword given was the famous [Three-Five Evil-Slaying Dual Divine Swords], also known as the Three-Five Evil Slayer, Celestial Master Sword, Yin Yang Sword, etc.
It is said that later, the Yin Sword was suppressed in the Ghost-Exorcising Well in He Ming Mountain, while the Yang Sword was passed down through the generations of the Dragon Tiger Zhang Family.
"Sir, can I take a look?" Zhang Fan asked.
"Young man, have a look."
The old man with the nose full of broken capillaries grinned, lightly smiling as he handed the fragnt to Zhang Fan.
Upon receiving it, a warm feeling spread from the fingertips, like a warm current flowing out, as if this fragnt was not tal but jade.
Clang... clang... clang...
At this mont, Zhang Fan felt dazed, as if he heard the sound of hamring iron anvils beside his ears, one strike after another, solid and forceful, echoing from the deep mountains, faintly accompanied by sparks flying, resembling lightning in the sky, splattering in a cloud-like trajectory.
At this mont, the strange patterns on the fragnt seed to co alive in Zhang Fan's eyes, actually wriggling, changing.
"Hey, hey..."
Fang Changle's voice sounded in his ear, he waved his hand in front of Zhang Fan, drawing his thoughts back.
"Have you finished looking?"
"Sir, how much for this fragnt?" Zhang Fan asked.
"Young man, the mont I saw you, I knew we were fated. If soone else asked, this old man would definitely ask for a sky-high price, but for you... let's give it a fateful price, three hundred thousand, how about it?" The old man laughed heartily.
"What? Isn't that still a sky-high price?" Fang Changle's eyes widened.
A broken fragnt actually priced at three hundred thousand, truly not doing business for three years, and living off one trade for three years, trying to swindle anyone they can, catching a big fool and squeezing them dry.
"Let's go, let's go, three hundred thousand, I could get you ten tons of this kind of stuff."
Fang Changle shook his head, pulling Zhang Fan to leave, even if you have money, this is not how you should spend it.
"Sir, can I make a counter offer?" Zhang Fan humbly asked.
"Young man, you're honest, I'll give you so face, let's hear your counter offer."
The old man with the nose full of broken capillaries grinned, showing a row of yellow teeth, looking at Zhang Fan quite fondly, in contrast, he looked at Fang Changle with a face full of disgust.
Don't know where this little rascal who doesn't understand business cos from, just ssing up his deals.
"Fifteen." Zhang Fan raised a hand.
"Fifteen thousand? Young man, this is a strangler's price..." The old man with the nose full of broken capillaries looked pained: "Oh well, who says we two are destined..."
"No no no, not fifteen thousand, it's fifteen, without the thousand." Zhang Fan gestured.
"Fifteen... without thousand? That ans... fifteen bucks!?"
The old man with the nose full of broken capillaries' eyes widened, staring incredulously at Zhang Fan, unable to believe what he heard.
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