Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Su Ming’s fingers flexed slightly inside his wide sleeve, a thread of extremely fine spiritual energy slipping silently from his fingertips to inscribe a miniature “Disperse” rune in midair.

“This sword’s material does have some age to it, probably mystic iron mixed with a bit of red copper,” Su Ming said as if stating an undisputed fact, “but that so-called ancient inscription, the metal sheen along the engraving’s edge hasn’t fully oxidized. Most obvious is the direction of the rune lines.”

He raised his hand and pointed at the sword’s spine from across the stall.

“That is a damaged Gathering rune, used to forcibly lock in the chaotic geng-metal qi inside. But the carving technique is extremely crude, and there are three clogged spiritual energy nodes. Such clumsy later-day forgery methods wouldn’t even be used by apprentices from the Northern Frontier.”

The one-eyed old man’s expression changed. His single eye fixed on Su Ming, a flash of panic and malice crossing his gaze.

But he did not dare to lash out.

The rules carved on the stone tablet outside the Myriad Treasures Pavilion hung over him like a guillotine.

Mingyue stood beside them, stunned, then snapped back and pulled Qingfeng two steps backward, face full of wariness.

“Let’s go.” Su Ming did not look at the old man again. He turned and walked toward the wooden staircase leading to the second floor.

Shadow lay on his shoulder and gave the old man a mocking cheep, then preened the black feathers on her chest with satisfaction.As they stepped onto the second-floor stairs, the surrounding clamor seemed instantly cut off by an invisible barrier.

The second floor was even more spacious than the first, but with far fewer stalls. Each booth occupied a large area, laid out with precious jade and stone platforms.

Green Nether Sword Sect, Craftsman Sect, Ten-Thousand-Pill Valley, Wandering Cultivator Alliance…

Every major force that made a name in the Central Continent had its own corner here.

The items for sale were no longer tattered junk, but complete magical implements radiating staggering spiritual energy fluctuations, elixirs contained in jade bottles that shimmered with flowing light, and high-grade formation plates exuding an ancient aura.

“Anything here could keep us going in the Cloud Hidden Sect’s outer sect for a year,” Mingyue said, staring at a defensive robe priced at five thousand low-grade spirit stones, unable to hide her shock.

Su Ming’s gaze swept over the price tags, and he felt a chill in his heart.

Prices on the Central Continent were more than ten times higher than in the Northern Frontier.

“Expensive, huh?” Lin Yu’s voice sounded softly in Su Ming’s consciousness sea.

Su Ming slowed his steps and replied in his mind, “Ridiculous. That robe is only made from ordinary ice silk, the formation carving is just a bit more refined.”

The soul body relaxed slightly inside the Xuantian ring, and Lin Yu snorted coldly.

“This is how the Central Continent merchants devour people,” Lin Yu’s voice slowed, as if remembering some unpleasant past, “in places like this, being poor is a sin.” Lin Yu’s spiritual form gleamed a touch brighter. “Disciple, look over there.”

Following Lin Yu’s direction, Su Ming stopped in front of a stall selling formation plates.

The stall owner was a white-haired elder. Unlike most sellers who loudly hawked their wares, he sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion with his eyes closed, appearing to cultivate.

Only a dozen or so formation plates were displayed.

But one plate set in the corner, with an aged, muted color, immediately drew Su Ming’s attention.

The entire plate was carved from an unknown gray-black spirit wood. There was no flashy spiritual glow leaking from it, just like a piece of deadwood buried in the earth for centuries.

Su Ming stood before the jade stone platform. His mid-stage Foundation Establishment divine sense carefully condensed into a beam; instead of touching the plate directly, he slowly traced the intricate grooves on its surface.

After three breaths, his heartbeat suddenly skipped.

Too similar.

The pattern structure on this plate mirrored the core of the Spider Silk Array he had laid out at Iron Wall Pass back then, almost eerily so.

But unlike that, this formation plate had an additional set of exquisitely crafted “Lead” rune variants at the nodes of spiritual energy reversal.

This variant rune set perfectly solved the fatal weakness of the Spider Silk Array—its energy distribution imbalance under continuous heavy strikes, which made the formation core prone to collapse.

“Master.” Su Ming whispered in his consciousness sea, a spark of uncontainable fervor flashing in his eyes.

“I see it.” Lin Yu’s voice carried a rare gravity. He drifted above the plate in the void. “The carving technique on this is ancient. That group of Lead rune variants even shows traces of those primitive formation marks from the Ancient Path secret realm. If you can dissect and assimilate it, your array could rise by at least three tiers.”

Su Ming drew a deep breath and forced down his excitement.

He bowed slightly and clasped his hands in a junior’s salute to the elder who was cultivating with closed eyes.

“Elder, may I ask the price of this formation plate?”

The white-haired elder did not open his eyes. He slowly lifted his right hand and, withered fingers in the air, held up three fingers.

Qingfeng leaned forward, glanced, and asked cautiously, “Three hundred low-grade spirit stones?”

The elder let out a wheezing chuckle from his throat and finally opened his eyes. They were murky but shrewd, like someone who could see through a person’s heart.

“Three thousand.” The elder’s thin lips moved, his voice hoarse. “Mid-grade spirit stones.”

“Gah—”

Qingfeng sucked in a breath, involuntarily stepping back.

Three thousand mid-grade spirit stones! Converted to low-grade spirit stones, that was a full thirty thousand! Even if they bound the three of them together and sold them, they wouldn’t reach a fraction of that sum.

Mingyue’s face paled. She tugged Su Ming’s sleeve and whispered, “Su Ming, that’s too expensive. Let’s go.”

Su Ming did not move.

He was about to speak, planning another way to negotiate with the elder.

At that moment, a cyan figure cut through the crowd like a blade moving against the current, barging to the front and striding to the elder’s stall.

It was a young man with a stern face.

He wore the Green Nether Sword Sect’s signature cyan Daoist robe, a sheathed long sword hung at his waist.

He did not intentionally emit spiritual pressure, but a sword intent at the peak of Foundation Establishment hung about him like a blade that could slice the surrounding air into pieces, making Qingfeng and Mingyue beside him feel an intolerable prickling on their skin.

The young man did not spare Su Ming a glance.

His long fingers reached out and snatched up the ancient formation plate, turning it over and over to inspect it.

“I’ll take this formation plate.” The young man’s voice was cold and emotionless.