Start with everyday skills and grind your way to immortality.

Chen Qian stood on the stone platform and looked out.

The scene before us is less like a city and more like a huge underground cave.

Among the countless craggy stalactite columns, eerie green lanterns hang everywhere.

Shadowy figures moved about among them.

There were living people wearing masks, paper effigies floating about, and even a few things that were soaking wet and had just crawled out of the water.

The noise, the sound of abacuses, and a kind of suppressed groan mingled together, creating a chilling sonic wave.

Chen Qian withdrew his gaze, looked at the black-robed man in front of him who was responsible for guiding them, cupped his hands in greeting, and asked in a low voice:

"Senior, I am new here and do not know what taboos and rules exist in this City of the Dead? Where should I look for or sell items?"

The man in the black robe moved his head slightly, hidden under his hood, but did not speak.

The withered, claw-like hand hung halfway in the air, showing no sign of retracting.

silence.

Dead silence.

Only those eyes hidden in the shadows seemed to be quietly watching Chen Qian.

Chen Qian was stunned for a moment, then realized what was happening.

It's not that he doesn't like to talk; he clearly thinks the toll he just paid was only enough to buy a way out, not enough to buy a word.

"That brat is a handful."

Chen Qian cursed inwardly.

He touched the small amount of silver in his pocket, which he had barely warmed. It was the savings he had painstakingly accumulated, every penny stained with blood and sweat.

But Chen Qian also understood that in this desolate place where the view seemed endless, it would be troublesome if he didn't have someone to guide him and he broke some taboo.

They might even lose their lives.

"Thank you for your hard work, senior."

Chen Qian gritted his teeth, a look of heartache on his face, and reluctantly took out a piece of silver from his pocket.

That was one tael of silver.

That's enough rice for the family to eat for a month.

He gently placed the silver in that withered hand.

"hey-hey"

The moment the silver was in his hand, the man in black robes let out a satisfied chuckle.

With a flick of his wrist, the silver disappeared as if by magic.

"The young man is a sensible person."

After receiving the money, the man in the black robe visibly became more friendly. Although his voice was still unpleasant, at least he was willing to speak.

He extended a finger, pointed to the shimmering market below, and said slowly:

"This City of the Wrongfully Dead has three levels."

"The outermost layer, which is the rocky beach under your feet, is the 'scattered stalls'."

"Most of the stalls are run by tomb raiders, outlaws, or even wandering ghosts. They have the most diverse selection of goods, the most counterfeit items, but also the cheapest."

"If you want to find treasures online, or sell some shady, low-quality goods, go there. But be careful, as there are no returns or exchanges for counterfeit items."

He then pointed to several stilted houses built against the mountainside in the distance, adorned with red lanterns:

"That's the inner district. It's run by big, established businesses, including pharmacies, weapons shops, and even the 'Listening Wind Pavilion' that sells information. The goods are guaranteed authentic, but they're ridiculously expensive. If you don't have at least a hundred or eighty taels of silver, don't even bother stepping through the door."

"As for the deepest part..." The man in black robes pointed to the dark mist at the end of the cave, his tone becoming somewhat enigmatic, "That's the 'Ghost Tower.' Only those who recognize 'ghost money' or are willing to risk their lives for something can enter."

"Right now, hehe, you'd better not ask."

Having said that, the man in black turned around, seemingly preparing to guide the next person, and before leaving, casually tossed out a few crucial words of advice:

"When doing business here, payment is made on the spot, and no credit is given."

"Remember, don't make a move in front of the stalls, and don't go into the shadows."

"As long as you stand in front of the stall with lit candles, you are protected by the rules of the City of the Unjustly Dead. Anyone who dares to make a move will break the city lord's rules and will surely die."

"But if you leave the stall and wander into those dark, secluded corners..."

The man in black robes gave a sinister laugh:

"If you get hit over the head with a club and have your skin peeled off, you can only blame your bad luck."

"Finally, you have to leave when you hear the rooster crow. If you're still in the city before dawn, then stay there forever as an indigenous person."

After he finished speaking, a black coffin emerged from the ground in front of the man in black robes.

The man in black robes became noticeably more nervous and jogged over, leaving Chen Qian behind.

"Don't take action in front of the stall, don't go out into the shadows."

Chen Qian pondered these two sentences, looking down at the ghost market below, a place of interwoven light and shadow, fraught with danger, his eyes narrowing slightly beneath the fox mask.

For a tael of silver, I gained a clear understanding.

Worth it.

"A break-up stall?"

He tightened his black robe, no longer hesitating, and walked step by step down the stone steps toward the area of ​​scattered stalls.

It seems that his two spoils of war can only be sold there for now.

Moreover, I'm short of money.

With the little money he had, if he wanted to learn any skills, he could only try his luck in this chaotic place.

Descending the stone steps, Chen Qian truly stepped into this area called the "Scattered Stalls".

The air here is even more murky than up above, as if the exhaust fumes of countless people have settled here, carrying a musty smell and a lingering chill.

The surrounding rugged rock walls are covered with countless honeycomb-like niches.

In each shrine, a pale green candle burned, its flame motionless and its light dim.

Under this ghastly green light, all the living people looked like ghosts, and all the ghosts looked like people.

In the middle is a winding street, with mobile stalls lining both sides.

Most of the stall owners sat cross-legged in the shadows, their faces covered with various masks.

There are ferocious demons, compassionate bodhisattvas, and blank slates without any features.

The wide robe concealed the figure, making it impossible to tell whether what lay beneath it was a living, breathing person or a long-decayed skeleton.

What made Chen Qian feel most depressed was the quietness here.

The huge market was completely silent.

The buyers and sellers communicated entirely through gestures or groping under their sleeves.

Chen Qian slowed his pace, activated his "Observe People" skill, and glanced at a roadside stall.

Immediately, the pupils beneath the mask contracted sharply.

A thick iron pillar stood in front of the stall, with several iron chains attached to it.

At the other end of the chain, instead of livestock, were several naked people.

There are men and women.

They knelt in the mud, their expressions blank and their eyes lifeless, with straw tags around their necks and obvious whip marks and branding marks on their bodies.

Even when they see someone approaching, they don't react at all, as if their souls have been emptied out, leaving only a walking corpse.

A buyer wearing a pig-face mask walked over and, as if selecting pork, roughly pried open a woman's mouth to examine her teeth, then reached out and pinched the flesh on her thigh.

The stall owner didn't say anything, but simply held up two fingers.

The buyer shook his head, tossed down four pieces of silver, and led the woman with the vacant eyes into the darkness like a dog on a leash.

"Two-legged sheep..."