Chapter 664: Chapter 300: Lord of the Shadow Hall
Being part of the Immortal Class is a mystical way those spirit monsters describe it. In the language of the Human World Hall, it ans the ability to ascend to the Heavenly Do and slay the Old Gods.
“King Xishan sits eight looking to nine, hmm.”
Zhou Xuan said.
Huang Xi nodded and said, “The difference between sitting eight looking to nine and nine incense sticks is just a line, yet worlds apart. So within sitting eight looking to nine, there are also levels of skill; King Xishan in this tier is incredibly powerful. If you encounter him in the future, Young Master, you must be careful.”
“Thank you, Boss Huang, for your concern.”
Zhou Xuan continued, “Boss Huang, besides this King Xishan, I’m quite interested in another person. Could you send your disciples to help find him?”
“Who is it?”
“Xu Jingshan, reputedly the Great Saint of Literature two hundred and twenty years ago.” Zhou Xuan replied.
“I’ve heard of this person, but he might be difficult to find, right?”
“Recently, I received news that in the deep mountains outside Mingjiang Prefecture City, there’s a Liuyun Village where a deity called the God of Nine Snakes is worshiped. Dispatch the yellow-skinned ones to investigate.”
“No problem. Once I return to the Huang Family, I’ll make arrangents.”
After exchanging a few more words with Zhou Xuan, Huang Xi saw no additional instructions from him, bid farewell, and left first.
Zhou Xuan then drank a cup of tea, sat down on the recliner, and began to doze off and relax.
“Xu Jingshan, Yama’s Trigram. If this trigram is broken, what benefits could it give ? Thinking about it, it does feel a bit exciting, like the sensation of opening a mystery box.”
…
Besides so small eateries, East Market Street also has large restaurants like East River Restaurant, the biggest in scale among nearby streets.
Three-story building, the first floor is for general seating, while the second and third floors are private rooms. Across the street, they’ve opened a ‘Little East River’, which has two floors.
East River Restaurant’s specialty is naturally East River cuisine, but besides this, wild ga is also one of the restaurant’s signatures.
Every day, hunters from the mountains, in groups, drive donkey carts and horse carts, delivering large quantities of wild boars, wild chickens, owls, mountain leopards to the restaurant.
Whenever new wild ga arrives, the person in charge of receiving, ‘Spotter’ Mr. Han, updates the wild ga na on the cutting board at the entrance to attract custors.
This afternoon, the force of the Fierce Sun hasn’t completely dissipated,
‘Spotter’ Mr. Han is at the restaurant entrance receiving goods again.
He wipes the hot sweat off his forehead with a clean towel, waiting for the hunters’ donkey and horse carts.
Strangely, quite a few hunters ca today. The drivers dressed in animal skins, carrying shotguns, and hard bows. Many faces were familiar old friends of Lao Han.
But these hunters, carrying full loads, did not park in front of East River Restaurant or deliver goods.
This made Mr. Han feel very peculiar.
Over a dozen wild ga carts wandered along the street, yet none approached the restaurant.
“What’s happening here? Did a new place open and intercept these wild goods?”
Mr. Han beca anxious and, not caring about the risk of getting hit, blocked a donkey cart.
The driver was called Old Cross-eye.
Old Cross-eye, when he went into the mountains before, was hit by a bear, got slapped by the bear on the forehead; his life was spared, but the muscles of his eye seed to be embedded into the brow bone, pulling one eyeball upwards, leaving a lingering ailnt.
Nowadays, whenever soone talks to Old Cross-eye, one of his eyes looks at the person, while the other still doesn’t know where it’s looking.
“Old Cross-eye, why aren’t you delivering goods to the restaurant? It’s about to get dark, guests co to our restaurant specifically for this taste. At night, if they can’t sample wild ga, wouldn’t our restaurant’s reputation be ruined?”
“Mr. Han, I also want to deliver to your shop, but soone won’t allow it.”
“Why not?” Mr. Han’s heart skipped a beat; did East River Restaurant sohow offend soone?
“We hunters of seventeen mountains received a bonus. The noble who paid didn’t say much but asked us to drive the goods around East Market Street. One big silver coin for a lap.”
“Just circling.”
“Yes.”
Old Cross-eye continued, “And the goods in this cart are different; no pheasants, wild boars, all are stinky foxes. Look there, seven or eight are tied up.”
He gave Mr. Han a sign.
But Cross-eye’s sign clearly looked forward, yet didn’t know where he was looking.
“Your eyes are so cross, what kind of sign are you giving ? Just tell where to look directly.”
“The roof of the cart.” Old Cross-eye fixed his gaze on the cart body, saying.
Only then did Mr. Han look up and see the roof of the donkey cart was tied with a row of cages. The cages contained large, fat foxes, with pure white fur, not a hint of other colors, making them the most prized goods for fur stores.
“So many foxes?”
“There’s more in the cart; these foxes are quite stinky. After I circle East Market Street seventeen or eighteen tis today, earning a handful of silver coins, I’ll just toss the cart, it’s unusable.”
Old Cross-eye spoke while whipping, driving the donkey cart forward.
Only then did Mr. Han notice that on the wild ga carts all over East Market Street, there seed to be foxes like snowballs placed atop the roofs.
Those foxes had sharp eyes, and as the carts moved, they chirped continuously.
…
Sister Cui was busy at a snack stall, with a few hunter drivers waiting in front of the stall.
Driving big carts requires not just skill but physical strength. An ordinary person without practice driving a cart would have soft and trembling arms after three or five swings of the big whip.
Those ten-plus hunter drivers consud a lot of physical strength, hunger, and fatigue each ti they circled East Market Street twice. Sister Cui’s snack stall beca their refueling station.
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