One Person: I, the Dragon Tiger Stall King! I Won!

31: The ship on the seabed is called ”Bei Luohun”The crisp sound of the copper coin settling seemed to still echo in his ears, but the Old Accountant’s figure had already vanished like dust scattered by the wind, disappearing into the deep night and the shadows of the reefs.

The sea breeze once again filled this dead silent area, carrying a salty, fishy smell and a bone-chilling cold, making Zhang Xuanyi’s clothes flap.

“The darkest depths of the human heart...” Zhang Xuanyi murmured these five words, each one like a heavy piece of lead pressing down on his heart.

He looked towards the southwest, at the horizon where the sea and sky were shrouded in endless darkness, as if he could see a monstrous maw waiting silently to devour him.

“Warning: He who takes the stele must first imprison himself.”

This cold system prompt was more chilling than any roar of a sea monster.

Imprison himself?

Was it to make his body a prison, or his heart a shackles?

“Xuanyi?” Su Qingzhu’s voice trembled slightly; she was clearly shaken by the eerie warning and the Old Accountant’s divination before he left.

She looked at Zhang Xuanyi’s tense profile, a face that usually held a hint of laziness and worldliness, but was now etched with an unprecedented solemnity.

He was no longer the peddler who only wanted to set up a stall and earn money, nor was he the fugitive passively drawn into trouble.

The moment he learned his father was a “Covenant Protector,” a dormant bloodline and responsibility had fully awakened within him.

Zhang Xuanyi took a deep breath, suppressing the churning emotions.

He did not answer Su Qingzhu, but instead turned around, his gaze falling on the slightly trembling tattered cloth of the stall.

In the center of the tattered cloth, the cluster of “Pseudo-Three Caverns True Qi Liquid,” just unlocked by “bloodline resonance,” emitted a soft yet pure golden glow, like a condensed sun.

His gaze slowly swept over his companions beside him.

The Iron Lady still watched the surrounding sea vigilantly, her muscles taut like a drawn bow.

A Yuan stared blankly at the “Beiluohun” (Northern Soul Fall) ship, his small face pale, seemingly not yet fully detached from his resonance with the three hundred lost souls.

Finally, his gaze rested on Su Qingzhu.

Before tonight, she was just an archaeology student caught up in events, an ordinary person he needed to protect.

But the path ahead was perilous and unknown, especially in “the darkest depths of the human heart”; an ordinary ally could very well become the first weakness to fall.

“Su Qingzhu,” Zhang Xuanyi’s voice was calm but brooked no argument, “Stretch out your hand.”

Su Qingzhu was startled, not understanding why, but still subconsciously extended her fair wrist.

Zhang Xuanyi offered no further explanation. He lightly touched the golden light with his fingertip, and a strand of golden liquid, finer than a hair, was drawn out, suspended at his fingertip, emitting astonishing spiritual energy fluctuations.

“What is this?” Su Qingzhu felt the power, both longing for it and fearing it.

“A commodity, and an investment,” Zhang Xuanyi said concisely. “The next stop I’m going to doesn’t welcome the weak. I need a partner who can see the flow of Qi and fight alongside me, not a burden I constantly have to protect. Which one do you want to be?”

These words were direct and cruel, yet they struck Su Qingzhu like a heavy hammer, waking her up.

She looked into Zhang Xuanyi’s deep eyes, which held no pity, only an expectation of equality.

She bit her lip, “

Zhang Xuanyi nodded, and the golden liquid on his fingertip instantly transformed into a stream of light, merging into Su Qingzhu’s glabella.

“Ah—!”

Excruciating pain instantly spread throughout her body. Su Qingzhu felt as if her meridians were being filled with molten iron, every inch of her flesh being torn apart and reassembled.

She couldn’t help but let out a groan of pain, her body collapsing, fortunately caught by the Iron Lady.

“Boss, what are you...?” The Iron Lady looked at Zhang Xuanyi with surprise and uncertainty.

“Washing the marrow and cleansing the bones, shedding the mortal coil and being reborn. Whether she can endure it depends on her own fortune.” Zhang Xuanyi’s tone was completely unruffled, but his gaze was fixed on Su Qingzhu.

He wasn’t making a wild gamble, but executing a precise investment.

His “Dao Market” system sold everything and exchanged karma.

He gave Su Qingzhu an opportunity; in the future, she would surely repay this “payment” with her value.

Time passed minute by minute. Su Qingzhu’s body trembled violently, and black impurities seeped from her skin, emitting a foul odor.

But her eyes, which had initially shown pain, gradually became clear and resolute.

Finally, when the last wisp of golden light completely merged into her Qi Sea, she suddenly opened her eyes!

An invisible wave of Qi spread out from her as its center.

In the depths of her pupils, it was as if green lotuses bloomed, and looking at this world again, everything became different.

The air flowing was no longer just air, but multicolored, varying densities of Qi flows.

The “Beiluohun” ship in the distance was enveloped by a vast and sorrowful Qi field of wish power, incredibly clear.

“I...I can see it now.” Su Qingzhu’s voice was hoarse with disbelief. She looked at Zhang Xuanyi, and for the first time, she could clearly “see” the unfathomably deep Qi within him, like an abyss, and the mysterious runes on the tattered stall cloth, scattered like stars, vast as the cosmos.

Zhang Xuanyi nodded with satisfaction. This transaction was a success.

Just then, the ancient ship “Beiluohun” suddenly let out a prolonged creaking sound.

The shipwreck from three hundred years ago, empowered by wish power, seemed to have come alive.

The small inscription on the bow, “May the Covenant be Undying, and the Nine Markets Shine Anew,” glowed and became increasingly clear.

“They...they seem to be waiting for you.” A Yuan tugged at Zhang Xuanyi’s sleeve timidly.

Zhang Xuanyi stepped forward, walking towards the sea.

Instead of reaching into the water like A Yuan, he took out the rusty copper bell that had emerged from the edge of the stall—the “Beiluohun Ship · Steward’s Token.”

He held the copper bell in his palm and infused a trace of True Qi into it.

The bell made no sound, but it rippled out an invisible wave that instantly covered the entire “Beiluohun” ship.

Boom!

A thunderclap seemed to explode in Zhang Xuanyi’s mind.

Countless fragmented images and broken thoughts surged into his sea of consciousness like a tide!

He “saw” three hundred years ago, a man whose back was strikingly similar to his own, the “Covenant Guardian,” leading three hundred of Mount Longhu’s most loyal disciples to offer themselves as sacrifices, laying down the “Soul-Trapping Grand Formation” to seal the pursuing abyssal beast of the sea here.

They were not annihilated, but actively chose to sacrifice themselves!

He “heard” the shared oath of the three hundred corpses: “We, with our broken bodies as fuel, shall burn an undying lamp for three hundred years, respectfully awaiting the Master of the Cloth, to continue the Covenant of the Nine Markets!”

The so-called “Beiluohun” was not a ship’s name at all, but a grand covenant that had lasted for three hundred years!

These lost souls were not calling “father,” but using their last wish power to summon the successor of the covenant!

Zhang Xuanyi’s chest heaved violently, and for the first time, his eyes grew moist.

It turned out that behind the “sea disaster” of his childhood memories was such a tragic guardianship.

His father, the “Covenant Guardian,” was not fleeing, but using three hundred lives to pave a way for him, for this “cloth,” to survive!

He raised the “Steward’s Token” in his hand and bowed deeply to the “Beiluohun” ship.

“Three hundred years of light, you all have toiled.” His voice was hoarse and solemn. “Today, I, Zhang Xuanyi, take the lamp!”

The moment his words fell, on the “Beiluohun” ship, the lamp flames in the palms of the three hundred corpses suddenly soared, converging into a brilliant pillar of light that shot into the sky, then, like a long whale drawing water, all poured into the stall at Zhang Xuanyi’s feet.

The “Wish Power Token · Soul-Trapping Covenant” that had just been collected burst forth with unprecedented light.

The system prompt boomed in his mind once again:

“‘Soul-Trapping Covenant’ wish power completed, ‘Dao Market Share’ authority upgraded!”

“Unlocked ‘Dao Market’ function: Wish Power Furnace — can smelt pure wish power into specified spiritual items.”

“Unlocked ‘Stall’ form two: Sailing Boat (inactive, requires collecting ‘Nine Markets Tokens’).”

At the same time, after completing its final mission, the golden light and wish power on the “Beiluohun” ship began to dissipate rapidly.

It no longer floated upwards, but slowly, peacefully, sank back into the trench it had guarded for three hundred years.

This time, there was no resentment, no unwillingness, only liberation.

A Yuan watched the sinking ship, tears silently streaming down his face: “They said...they can go home now.”

The sea returned to calm, as if the ghost ship carrying a three-hundred-year-old promise had never appeared.

Zhang Xuanyi slowly withdrew his gaze, the shock and sorrow in his heart gradually transforming into a heavy sense of responsibility.

He glanced at the star map on the back of the stall cloth; the star point in the southwest was flickering with an eerie red light, like a bleeding eye.

“Iron Lady, prepare the fastest ship. We are going southwest.” Zhang Xuanyi’s tone was beyond question.

“Boss, the southwest coast is mostly a chaotic area with no jurisdiction. Where exactly are we going?” the Iron Lady asked.

Zhang Xuanyi’s fingertip lightly touched the star map, and a more detailed map unfolded in his mind, finally locking onto the depths of an inland swamp covered in dense poisonous miasma.

“A nameless place.” Zhang Xuanyi’s voice deepened. “On the system map, only three characters are marked.”

Su Qingzhu leaned closer. Having just gained spiritual vision, she could barely see the faint glimmer of the star map on the stall cloth.

She followed Zhang Xuanyi’s gaze, and the ominous premonition in her heart grew stronger.

“Which three characters?”

Zhang Xuanyi looked up, facing the cold sea breeze, and said word by word: “Prison Heart Stele.”

He paused, recalling the Old Accountant’s divination and the system’s warning, and added: “That place is the darkest part of the human heart. Our journey there might not be to defeat some enemy, but to confront...ourselves.”

The ship was quickly prepared.

At dawn, the group set sail towards the southwest, facing the rising sun.

Days of sailing passed peacefully.

But as the ship drew closer to the southwest coastline, the surrounding environment began to change eerily.

The seawater was no longer azure, but a sickly gray-green. The air was filled with a strange smell like rotting herbs mixed with rust, which, when inhaled, caused a stuffy feeling in the chest.

Seabirds had long disappeared from the sky, and not a trace of living fish could be seen in the sea, a dead silence that was unsettling.

That afternoon, the Iron Lady, who was at the helm, suddenly gasped: “Boss, look! The compass is malfunctioning!”

Zhang Xuanyi and Su Qingzhu rushed out of the cabin, only to see the pointers of both the ship’s electronic compass and the backup old-fashioned magnetic compass spinning wildly, completely unable to determine direction.

Zhang Xuanyi immediately unfurled the stall cloth. The star map on the back of the cloth was now interfered with by an invisible barrier, and the star point in the southwest flickered on and off, its signal extremely unstable.

Just then, a line of crimson warning text suddenly appeared in the center of the stall cloth, more dazzling than any previous time.

“Warning: Entering ‘Absolute Spirit Suppression’ domain. Causality is severely distorted in this area. ‘Dao Market’ system’s link to the external ‘Great Dao’ will be cut by 99%, all functions are on the verge of failure.”

“Warning: The Master of the Cloth’s cultivation will be suppressed to mortal level.”

“Warning: Ahead... is a land abandoned by gods and demons.”