Secret Buyer-Chapter 37: Another Transaction (3,000 Words)

Chapter 37: Chapter 37: Another Transaction (3,000 Words)

"Going out?"

Huang Qiuxian eyed this gifted person, raising an eyebrow:

"Aren’t you afraid of being ambushed and killed the moment you step outside?"

A couple of days ago, this boy sent a letter through a girl from the Snake Fist Hall, asking why the Eastern Sect wanted to kill his master...

Zhang Fusheng chuckled:

"I have special concealment techniques, rest assured, Elder."

"Are you referring to seeing your body as white bones?"

Huang Qiuxian lazily replied:

"This little trick, indeed, can restrain your aura and mental fluctuations, but at best, it only obscures your true nature. You’ll still be detected and perceived..."

His words were cut off abruptly.

The aura on the youth’s body, at some unknown point, had dispersed completely. He stood right there, yet in Huang’s spiritual perception, he seemed like a lifeless object,

A faint, decaying scent lingered around him.

"New death appearance?" Huang Qiuxian sighed: "So soon? It seems that within two or three years, you’ll be able to exhibit the Giant Form."

"You are quite knowledgeable about the Eight Forms of Form and Spirit?" Zhang Fusheng inquired curiously.

"Naturally."

Huang Qiuxian snorted:

"Your Eight Forms of Form and Spirit, the first four focus on the body, and the latter four on the spirit. Among them, two or three forms do have some depth."

Zhang Fusheng nodded thoughtfully.

Old Huang lazily said:

"Speaking of which, who is this person you want to introduce to me? Not just anyone can meet an old man like me."

Zhang Fusheng smiled:

"You’re only a Second Refinement Martial Artist now, but you wouldn’t have been before. I surmise you contracted a serious ailment?"

Huang Qiuxian nodded lightly:

"That’s right. But even as a Second Refinement, I can tell you, I’ve reached the realm of ’He should see me as such’. Even a Twelve Refinement martial artist or Martial Arts Master may not fare well against me."

This old fellow has indeed perfected the Contemplation Technique.

Zhang Fusheng’s expression remained unchanged:

"The person I’d like to introduce can cure your serious ailment."

"Impossible."

Huang Qiuxian flatly denied:

"This ailment... never mind, why talk to you about it?"

Zhang Fusheng shrugged:

"It’s never bad to at least meet, right?"

He wrinkled his nose:

"I also wanted to ask, what’s the real difference between the Eastern and Western Sects?"

Huang Qiuxian calmly replied:

"Doctrine, deities worshipped, rules... too many differences."

"Aren’t they all Taoist?" Zhang Fusheng probed without showing any emotion: "I’ve heard that the Taoist gods worshipped are called the Three Pristine Ones."

"Not the same."

Huang Qiuxian said flatly:

"Their Three Pristine Ones are the Primordial Sect Leader, Supreme Sect Leader, and Heaven-Reaching Sect Leader, merely outer paths that steal the title of the Three Pristine Ones. Our Three Pristine Ones are the Primordial Celestial Venerate of Fuli, Supreme Celestial Lord of Tao and Virtue, and Jade Emperor Spirit Treasure Celestial Venerate."

His expression turned somber:

"Our gods may be gone, but they cannot be compared to the outer path gods worshipped by the Western Sect!"

Zhang Fusheng was stunned for a while, the gods are gone?

And what difference is there between these two sets of Three Pristine Ones?

Uh, the first three seem to be from a Ming Dynasty novel in my past life.

As his mind raced, Zhang Fusheng softly said:

"I fear there might be surveillance outside the Martial Arts Dojo, could you escort me part of the way?"

Huang Qiuxian raised an eyebrow:

"So troublesome."

Despite his words, he blew a breath, and Zhang Fusheng’s form suddenly blurred and then disappeared from the spot.

He was still there, just not visible to the naked eye.

The perfected Contemplation Technique could genuinely interfere and even distort reality with the mind.

Maintaining the new death appearance, with dissipated aura, not only was he invisible to the eye but his existence couldn’t be sensed even with spiritual thoughts.

Zhang Fusheng quietly left the Martial Arts Dojo, and sure enough, this time, that nagging ’sense of being watched’ didn’t occur.

Keeping this form, he quietly left the Martial Arts Dojo and walked to a bridge approximately three kilometers away, where the spiritual power that enveloped and distorted air to create reality illusions gradually dissipated.

He also revealed his form.

"Three kilometers, Huang Qiuxian’s spiritual range is three kilometers."

"No, maybe more, let’s consider it as five kilometers."

Zhang Fusheng thought to himself, put on a pre-prepared hood, and quietly entered the shadows twenty kilometers away from the Martial Arts Dojo.

When he reappeared, he was already an old man leaning on a cheap wooden cane.

......

Fourth District, the port.

Lin Dongxi was chewing bubble gum, silently cultivating.

"Third Refinement, not far now."

She murmured to herself, hearing the roar of a ship, jumping off a small wooden table:

"Is the shipment here?"

"Yes, my lady."

The subordinate didn’t show a hint of disrespect due to this lady’s appearance and stature:

"Three thousand kilograms of various firearms and ammunition, plus a batch of high-concentration blood-stopping toxins."

Here, firearms and ammunition are measured in ’kilograms’.

Lin Dongxi nodded, the shipment was too large for her not to make a rare personal appearance.

Once the containers were lifted onto the shore one by one, she signaled the dock workers to disperse and personally inspected the goods with two trusted subordinates.

Each container opened, and the goods were intact. Finally, at the last container.

"Hmm?"

Lin Dongxi suddenly dodged back, but it was too late.

The container was torn open, several figures lunged forward, and her two subordinates had their necks twisted. As for Lin Dongxi, without any resistance, she was chopped on the neck and knocked unconscious.

"Now to the Hongji Martial Arts Dojo? Intelligence shows there’s currently no Great Martial Artist around the target."

"No rush."

The masked figure simply stated:

"Hongji Martial Arts Dojo is in this city’s Third District. Making a big commotion isn’t good for escaping."

"The information from above indicates the target might attend a mentor appreciation banquet on the tenth of this month. Even if not, there’s another ’Jiang Banquet’ on the fifteenth that he will certainly attend."

Pausing, he spoke with a smile:

"A First-Refined Martial Artist, at most, Second or Third Refinement, is easy to deal with. If this mission is successfully completed, we... can truly join the sect!"

The six masked men exchanged glances, their skin glistening with dark light, muscles trembling, their internal tendons roaring.

All of them were revealed to be ’Three Tendons Refinements’ martial artists.

The refinement of skin, flesh, tendons, and bones to the ’Tendons’ level is at least at the Seventh Refinement standard.

"What should we do with this girl? Throw her into the sea?" someone kicked the unconscious little child.

"No."

The leading person said:

"The orders are, this girl named Lin Dongxi should be kept unconscious for more than ten days...blood suppressant toxin."

After injecting the blood suppressant toxin.

They each held a hand vertically in front of their chest and chanted:

"Heavenly Communication above!"

Then they silently disappeared.

......

Ankang Hospital.

Dean Long’s face was numb.

Not again?

He looked at the masked elder before him, a look of grievance on his face:

"Are you all together?"

Zhang Fusheng chuckled:

"Who are you talking about?"

"Uh, nothing, nothing..." Dean Long pointed at the computer: "The records are all there, really!"

Zhang Fusheng glanced at the patient records, raising his eyebrows.

In just a few days, the number of tumor patients had increased by nearly one-third, even expanding the morgue by two more rooms.

This is quite abnormal.

Thinking of the master’s words about great problems at Ankang Hospital...

"With my current star beast meat reserves, I can complete at least three transactions in a short time."

He muttered to himself, swiftly scanning the records, disappointed to find no martial artists among the patients this time.

"Hmm?"

Zhang Fusheng noticed some new patient records being marked and immediately asked:

"What do these markings mean?"

Dean Long’s expression changed, he honestly replied:

"They are all patients who have begun the Contemplation Technique."

"Why the special marking?" Zhang Fusheng examined these patient records, noting a common trait.

No parents, no children, no siblings, not even an emergency contact on their records.

In other words, once their money runs out, they are sent to the provisional morgue.

Additionally, the cases showed their illnesses progressing extremely quickly; some examined yesterday at early to middle stages had progressed to late stages by today.

Normal cancer couldn’t progress at such a rate.

It seemed a peculiar disease was rapidly spreading in the Lower Three Districts...related to cultists, or the Western Sect?

Dean Long fell silent this time, not answering.

Zhang Fusheng hesitated for a bit,

deciding not to press further—why dive into these murky waters?

However.

When mom and dad return, the Seventh District truly isn’t safe to stay in, at least need to move to the Third District.

"Hmm?"

Zhang Fusheng’s eyes suddenly lit up.

He found an ideal trading object, 102 years old, not a martial artist, but.....

Minor Achievement in Contemplation Technique.

Looking at the case, admitted three days ago, early-stage lung cancer, now advanced with multiple cancer cell metastases, survival expected under a month.

"Him, and this one." Zhang Fusheng selected another centenarian beginner in the Contemplation Technique, calmly stating: 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"Where are these two patients? I don’t see their ward numbers on the records."

Dean Long remained silent.

Zhang Fusheng raised an eyebrow, pointing a dark gun barrel at his head, using an old voice to continue asking:

"What, you can’t even say this?"

Dean Long scratched his head:

"Yes, in the underground provisional morgue."

"Underground? Aren’t your morgues on the second floor? The newly built ones I see are also on the second floor?"

"Uh...because recently the number of patients has been too high, so the basement was also converted into a provisional morgue."

Dean Long pointed to the elevator behind him:

"Just go down from here."

Zhang Fusheng chuckled:

"I’m not going down, call them, have them transferred to the second floor."

An already problematic hospital, going down to a basement?

I’d be a fool to go down!

If it weren’t for the pressing need to advance the Contemplation Technique to Perfection, Zhang Fusheng would have turned and fled.

This place, it’s sinister.

"Call them, don’t add any titles, directly give the request." Zhang Fusheng emphasized once more.

Dean Long helplessly dialed a number, putting it on speaker:

"Transfer patient 192 and 203 from the underground provisional morgue to the second floor provisional morgue, quickly."

"Ah?"

The young man on the other end sounded confused:

"Are you sure? Won’t their appearance cause panic?"

"Cover them with sheets, just do as I say, don’t ask more."

"Yes, Dean."

After hanging up.

Zhang Fusheng smiled enigmatically:

"Cause panic?"

Dean Long sighed softly:

"I don’t know who you are, or if you were with the young man that day, but I advise you, it’s best not to ask further."

"Alright, won’t ask." Zhang Fusheng nodded with a smile.

A few minutes later, Dean Long’s phone vibrated slightly, the two patients had been transferred.

He sighed again:

"Let’s go."

Zhang Fusheng knocked him out with a palm strike.

After repeatedly confirming the surveillance remained disconnected, he silently hurried to the provisional morgue, the stench still looming.

In the morgue lay two patients, covered with white cloth, evidently still alive, the cloth slightly rising and falling.

Hesitating for a moment, Zhang Fusheng stepped forward, uncovering the white cloth.

He involuntarily stepped back two steps.