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

71: The stall is not closed, the road is endlessThe seven-day deadline had arrived.

Three Elders from the Longhu Mountain Tianshi Mansion, clad in purple-gold ritual robes and treading the Gang steps, descended upon the market once more like three moving mountains.

Their Auras were even more profound than seven days prior, each breath causing ripples in the surrounding air.

This time, however, they were no longer alone.

The Sword Lord of Kunlun, Elders from Mount Shu, emissaries from Penglai, Immortal Masters from Zhongnan... representatives from nearly every major Sect of the present age were gathered behind the Tianshi Mansion Elders. Some carried swords on their backs, others held horsetail whisks or cradled Magic Treasures. Their eyes were sharp as blades as they stood in silent formation, creating a terrifying pressure potent enough to shift mountains and alter rivers.

The entire Yuanli Market instantly fell deathly silent.

Zhang Xuanyi, who was squatting before his stall using a pair of rusty pliers to help an old farmer repair a bellows, didn’t even raise an eyebrow.

The old farmer was terrified, his face ashen, his legs trembling like a sieve, almost collapsing to his knees.

The leading Elder, Elder Xuanfa, swept his lightning-like gaze across the entire market, finally fixing it on Zhang Xuanyi’s indifferent back. His voice boomed like a great bell, resounding across the land: ”The Yuanli Market, gathering the will of the common people, a marvel unprecedented in history, has grown into a formidable force! Yet, without a master there is chaos, without rules there is no order! After seven days of deliberation at Mount Longhu, we, the great Sects, all mindful of the welfare of the world, have publicly elected Zhang Xuanyi as the ’Dao Market Alliance Leader’! We shall establish a ’Dao Alliance’ to oversee all stalls and eternally safeguard the Dragon and Tiger Luck of Mount Longhu!”

As his voice faded, it felt as if a celestial decree had descended upon the world, carrying an indisputable authority.

”Alliance Leader?”

Zhang Xuanyi finally stopped his work. He blew the black soot off the pliers and, without turning his head, asked the terrified farmer: ”Old uncle, listen to that. Doesn’t that sound like someone coming to collect protection money?”

The old farmer’s lips quivered, unable to utter a single word.

Only then did Zhang Xuanyi slowly stand up, dust off his hands, and turn to face the group of Sect leaders with their overwhelming Aura. A lazy smile played on his lips: ”I appreciate your kind offer. However, this stall of mine is an individual operation, a small business. No alliances, no franchises, and definitely no public offerings.”

His words, light as a feather, felt like an invisible slap across the faces of all the Sect representatives.

Elder Xuanfa’s face darkened, ready to erupt.

”Esteemed Elders, esteemed Seniors, please wait.”

A clear, cold, yet resolute voice rang out.

Su Qingzhu, holding a stack of freshly printed manuscripts still fragrant with ink, stepped forward from the crowd.

Facing the mountain-like pressure head-on, her eyes showed not a hint of retreat: ”You wish to establish an Alliance Leader and a Dao Alliance because you are afraid of losing control. Afraid that this power originating from the mundane world will slip from your grasp.”

She raised the manuscripts in her hand. On the cover, the title ’The Heavenly Dao on the Street Stall’ seemed to burn with fire in the setting sun.

”But haven’t you realized? This market has never been out of control from the very first day.” Su Qingzhu’s voice grew impassioned. ”Because here, every stall owner is their own Tianshi!”

She pressed a button on the player in her hand. A light screen projected into the air.

The footage showed the market at night.

An old Daoist with a black cloth over his eyes sat on a small stool, a few photocopied yellow papers spread before his stall.

A young man with a troubled expression handed over five yuan. The old Daoist, feeling around, wrote a few characters on a yellow paper with a cinnabar brush. Then, in his hoarse voice, he offered an extra piece of advice: ”Young man, if your heart is broad, the road ahead will be broad.”

Outside the frame, Cui Wujiu’s slightly weathered voice narrated like a voiceover: ”The Dao is not on the high altars of the Nine Heavens, nor within the strict disciplines of the Sects. It is in the bargaining, in the single thought between a buyer and a seller.”

The footage ended, and the light screen dissipated.

The entire market remained silent, but this silence was fundamentally different from the previous deathly hush.

In the air, something called ”agreement” was quietly taking root.

Elder Xuanfa snorted coldly, about to refute this ”heretical nonsense.”

Suddenly—

”Thud!”

The earth shook violently, as if a giant beast had turned over deep within its core.

A second tremor came. All the stalls in the market, new and old, emitted a low hum, resonating with the vibration.

A third tremor, the heaviest of all.

Everyone saw it. The Old Market-Stall Dog, which had been dozing beside Zhang Xuanyi’s stall, its remnant shadow looking ready to fall apart at any moment, suddenly raised its head.

”Awooo—”

A desolate, ancient howl, as if traversing countless ages, erupted from the old dog’s shadow.

At this moment, it was no longer a remnant shadow, but had coalesced into the towering, sky-piercing phantom of a Divine Beast!

That howl was not a lament, but a proclamation!

As the howl faded, the Divine Beast phantom exploded, transforming into billions of golden light points. Like a grand meteor shower, they all poured into the plain, unremarkable stall cloth beneath Zhang Xuanyi’s feet.

The weave of the stall cloth instantly lit up. The light points flowed and intertwined within it, finally forming countless, profoundly mysterious yet clearly discernible patterns of rules.

Everything returned to calm.

Zhang Xuanyi silently walked over, took down the now-empty dog leash, and gently hung it on the most prominent corner of his stall.

Looking at the leash swaying gently in the breeze, he said softly: ”Old friend, what you guarded wasn’t me, but this stall’s rule—willingly come, willingly go, no deceit, no coercion.”

These words struck the hearts of every stall owner like a morning bell and evening drum.

The Elders of the Tianshi Mansion, the Sword Lords of Kunlun, all the Sect leaders... they all fell silent.

They could clearly sense that this market, at that very moment, had given birth to its own ”Law.”

This ”Law” was not decreed by anyone. It was formed by a loyal Soul sacrificing itself, transforming into a protective covenant for this land.

An old man selling sugar figurines silently walked back to his stall and took down his ”Secret Family Recipe” sign.

A young man selling homemade Talismans also removed his ”No Deceit to Young or Old” banner.

Then, one, two, ten, a hundred... all the stall owners spontaneously took down their own signs.

They bought yellow paper and mung beans from Zhang Xuanyi. Using the most simple and unadorned strokes, they wrote four large characters and hung them on their stalls.

”Those Who Are Willing, Find Freedom.”

Those willing to come find freedom here.

At this very moment, deep within the roots of Mount Longhu, unseen by anyone, the Old Earth Vein Turtle, which had slumbered for countless cycles of sixty years, slowly closed its lake-like eyes.

The last wisp of its purest Dragon Qi drifted out like a spider’s thread, penetrated the earth’s layers, and wound itself with perfect precision onto the foundational veins of the Yuanli Market, finally solidifying into an invisible yet indestructible barrier.

Cui Wujiu shuddered all over. He closed his eyes, sensing that vast and benevolent power, and murmured lowly: ”It... it has entrusted its own lifeline to this market.”

The pressure from the mountaintop, the schemes of the Sects, all became a joke at this moment.

Zhang Xuanyi, however, acted as if nothing had happened. Grinning, he fished out a small paper packet from under his stall and began loudly hawking: ”New product launch! New product launch! ’Freedom Experience Pack,’ contains two heavenly eye mung beans, half a sheet of wishing yellow paper, plus a bonus exclusive life quote from Editor-in-Chief Su! Fair price, only one Power Of Will required!”

Su Qingzhu was both annoyed and amused. She walked over and punched his arm: ”You’re even selling my words now?”

The moon reached its zenith. Far from dispersing, the market’s lights shone like stars, more brilliant than ever.

Zhang Xuanyi lay comfortably in his familiar bamboo rocking chair, chewing on a blade of grass he’d plucked from somewhere. He gazed at this world of mortal bustle, which he had single-handedly created yet no longer truly belonged to him.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the stall cloth which had absorbed the old dog’s Soul was fluttering at one corner, though there was no wind.

A new line of characters slowly appeared, as if ink seeping into rice paper.

It wasn’t the cold font of the System. It carried the warmth of countless hearts, as if formed by the collective will of everyone in this market.

”The Dao is on the stall, not in the heavens.”

The blade of grass at the corner of Zhang Xuanyi’s mouth paused. Then, he grinned, turned over, and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

The scene slowly zoomed out. The myriad stall lights of the market remained lit throughout the night.

The empty dog leash hanging at the stall’s edge swayed gently in the light and shadow, as if that loyal shadow had never left.

Deep within the earth’s veins, each breath of the old turtle transformed into a gentle night breeze, sweeping across this land.

Where the breeze passed, a new crop of heavenly eye mung beans had already broken through the soil. Under the starlight, they unfurled their tender green leaves.

The night was unprecedentedly tranquil.

However, beyond this tranquility guarded by the invisible barrier, the fog before dawn was silently growing denser.

Deep within that fog, the market’s lights and clamor were cut off, but not the heavy, mountain-like gazes cast from all directions.

Mount Longhu, the Kunlun Ruins, the Peaks of Mount Shu, the Shores of the Eastern Sea... ancient Auras that had slumbered for centuries seemed thoroughly awakened by the market’s disturbance. They no longer concealed themselves, no longer merely watched.

The night’s peace was like a drumskin stretched taut to its limit.

And when the hour hand pointed to the break of dawn, a world-shaking drumbeat was destined to suddenly resound.