Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Marketplace

The mountain wind struck his cheeks as Zhou Bai made his way toward the summit of Mount Yue. He wore a bamboo hat to conceal his opened Yin-Yang Eyes. Beneath his feet was a narrow dirt path, flanked by a dense forest that stretched endlessly into the gloom. The trees were tall, their forms oddly twisted and slanted, as if shadows lurking in the darkness watched him with secret intent.

The blazing sun was hidden behind thick clouds, and the forest's lush canopy let not a single ray of sunlight reach the ground. Yet Zhou Bai, skilled and courageous, felt no fear; he quickened his pace, intent on finding some trace of the monsters he sought.

His steps matched the rhythm of his breath—a technique he'd developed through his travels, not quite the lightness of martial arts but incorporating elements of the Five Animal Play.

Suddenly, he stopped, eyes narrowing. Unnoticed, the muddy mountain path had turned to a stone-paved road beneath his feet. On either side appeared stone ornaments stacked in odd arrangements, and fiery red lanterns hung from the trees, a scene strangely lively.

It all seemed real, but focusing his Yin-Yang Eyes, the lanterns between the trees transformed into skulls, each bone-white and grinning.

"Fresh meat for sale! Come buy fresh meat!" a voice called nearby. Zhou Bai hurried toward the source.

After only a few steps, he noticed something strange. On a steep platform along Mount Yue, a bizarre market had appeared. The market was composed of small stalls made of dry grass and planks. Though crude, they resembled a proper marketplace.

There were only a dozen stalls, each manned by a vendor, displaying a dazzling array of goods. Yet not a single customer could be seen—the vendors shouted energetically, growing louder as Zhou Bai approached.

Stepping closer, he saw some stalls selling books, run by a youth dressed as a scholar, with a half-grown servant standing behind him. Others sold livestock—horses, donkeys, mules—and some traded paintings and clothing.

Who could have imagined that on the deserted mountainside of Mount Yue, such a strange marketplace would appear, with Zhou Bai as its only guest?

To continue his ascent, he had to pass through this uncanny bazaar. He placed his hand near his butcher's knife, ready to draw it at any moment, and stepped forward into the market.

The nearest butcher stall was run by an old man in a raincoat, his hair white, face lined with deep wrinkles. On his stall lay a dozen pieces of meat, varying in size. Zhou Bai, with his butcher's eye, saw immediately that this was neither pork nor beef or mutton. Whether it was human flesh, he couldn't tell for sure.

Lowering his bamboo hat, Zhou Bai activated his Yin-Yang Eyes. Ever since forging his ghostly instrument, the aura released when he used ghostly arts had become much more subtle.

He glanced at the old butcher. At that moment, even Zhou Bai frowned. The old man in the raincoat was no human, but a standing yellow fox, its fur tinged with white, clearly of some age.

The other vendors revealed their true forms under Zhou Bai's Yin-Yang Eyes: the scholar and his servant were two young green foxes, their narrow eyes sizing him up. The livestock vendor was a wild boar with black fur; the horses and donkeys he sold were not animals, but elderly people tied with ropes, nearly dead. The painting vendor was a hawk; the candied fruit seller was a bear. Under the Yin-Yang Eyes, none could hide their true nature.

A voice interrupted Zhou Bai. The yellow fox grinned, folding its wrinkled face: "Sir, won't you buy some fresh meat? All just slaughtered pigs."

Zhou Bai's eyes narrowed, his right hand resting on the knife hilt. "Just slaughtered pigs? They don't look like that to me."

In his Yin-Yang Eyes, the so-called pork on the stall turned into human limbs and fragments, even a head staring with wide-open eyes.

The situation made Zhou Bai worry even more about Wang Lei's safety. Thankfully, his search revealed no fish monsters among these creatures.

The yellow fox laughed, undisturbed. "Impossible, my pork is the finest lean meat, quality and value guaranteed."

"Quality and value, you say? Then I must ask how you price your meat."

"This piece is from the hind leg, the tenderest cut." The fox grabbed a human thigh, explaining, "Only five units of heart's blood, honest business for all ages."

"No blood to spare," Zhou Bai snorted coldly.

"That's fine!" The yellow fox's face lit up in delight. He clapped his hands forcefully.

"I have just one question for you, and you must answer truthfully."

At those words, the entire market fell silent. All the monsters turned to stare at Zhou Bai with strange, intense gazes.

The yellow fox swallowed, eyes full of anticipation. "Look at me... do you think I look like a human?"

Zhou Bai was silent for a moment, considering a possibility. When he was young, he'd heard elders tell stories: in rural legend, beasts who cultivated for some time would disguise themselves as humans and ask travelers if they appeared human.

If the traveler answered "yes," the monster would advance in cultivation, becoming closer to humanity. If "no," their progress would falter.

Seeing Zhou Bai hesitate, the yellow fox pressed urgently, "Quick, tell me—do I look like a human?"

Zhou Bai still did not answer.

Whispers rippled through the market. The yellow fox's breathing grew heavy, his features twisted with anxiety.

Unsure of these monsters' strength, Zhou Bai did not strike immediately. Instead, he used his ghostly instrument to gather what little ghostly aura he possessed, channeling it into his Yin-Yang Eyes.

The world before him faded to black and white, and the monsters changed once more.

The yellow fox, once merely upright, now shifted—its flesh rearranged, becoming a half-human, half-monster creature. Human features appeared across its body, but were grotesquely deformed: the left eye socket was human, but the nose had reverted to beast; half the neck was covered in fur, half was ordinary skin.

The other monsters were much the same. Seeing their shallow cultivation, Zhou Bai prepared to strike.