Chapter 91

The ancient city of Xianyang, the throat of China, with its vast fertile fields and countless treasures within its borders, has always been a place of contention among military strategists. Even to this day, countless wealthy merchants and tycoons choose to live and operate here, maintaining the city's prosperity, luxury, and indulgence.

This city is within the sphere of influence of the warlord Xia Batian, who naturally has his residence in the southern part of the city. Other officials, such as deputy commanders, brigade leaders, and regimental commanders, along with the city's law enforcement officials, all gather here. Concerned with the safety of their direct superiors, there are always patrols on duty day and night, making it one of the most peaceful places in the city.

The northern part of the city is the poorest, with no decent houses, only clusters of shacks. Under the eaves, half-exposed cigarette boxes, girls leaning out from the second-floor balconies, street barbers, and a few small tables for noodle stalls... The people who eat and drink here are those who struggle to make ends meet. Even the street platforms under the bridges are filled with homeless people at night—every winter, corpse collectors wander through the northern part of the city, often dragging out several frozen or starved bodies with blue faces.

The western part of the city is mostly inhabited by wealthy merchants, and it is also where foreign firms, trading houses, restaurants, and high-end brothels are located. The extravagance and revelry here are extreme, with money flowing like water, and only the wealthy enter and exit. However, there are also many deaths here, with assassinations and murders happening at any moment. Most of the time, what you see are groups of thugs and bodyguards in black pants and short shirts, carrying axes on their waists.

The eastern part of the city is the most peculiar, with city temples, Eight Immortals Halls, casinos, brothels, taverns, and carriage rentals. It is also the place where black markets for foreign guns and opium, as well as hiring assassins and trading in stolen goods, are located. This is the most complex part of the city, a haven for criminals, thieves, killers, and fugitives.

In short, everything can be found here, and everything can be bought—provided you have the money.

The people here have their own rules and ways, and they know who they cannot touch. But for others... when you enter their shop, they are just businessmen doing business with you, but as soon as you step out, they can immediately cover their faces with a black cloth and become robbers.

This is a paradise of chaos, a hiding place for extraordinary people.

Honest and straightforward people often go mad after living here for just three days.

Even a noodle stall owner here might pull out a kitchen knife and kill you, only telling you before you close your eyes that he is a fugitive criminal who has been on the run for years...

When Sun Wukong entered the eastern part of the city, no one paid any attention to him. His clothes made him look like a beggar who had fled here. His head was dirty, his hair messy, his face and hands black, and he carried a tattered cloth bag—unfortunately, his curious and wandering gaze made people misinterpret him as 'having something valuable.'

'Having something valuable' is a term used among thieves, often referring to gold, silver, antiques, jewelry, or at the very least, a few coins—this time, however, it referred to a few good pieces of clothing.

As Sun Wukong marveled at the city's prosperity and the bright lights, and wandered around trying to find the location of the Hundred Ghosts Market, two greedy gazes shot at him from a small alley.

Valuable!

These two didn't look much older, about fourteen or fifteen years old, and were even shorter than Sun Wukong. Therefore, their targets were not the silver coins in the adults' bags but the few pieces of clothing in Sun Wukong's cloth bag.

Once these clothes were in their hands, they could quickly be pawned for a few copper coins, which would then be turned into a few hot, greasy meat pies—what kind of meat was inside was no longer their concern.

These two were not brothers, but their appearances were strikingly similar. They were very thin, almost skeletal, with long, thin limbs and a pale, greenish complexion. Their ill-fitting long gowns were tied with grass ropes around their waists, and their loose trousers flapped, revealing dirty ankles and worn-out shoes.

Their names were Niaojī and Māgǎn.

They were just two ordinary street children in the city, both of whose parents had passed away. They survived by begging on the streets, eating rough rice porridge when times were good, and scavenging vegetable scraps and leftover food when there was no harvest. Of course, if there was an opportunity to steal, they would never let it pass.

And now, they saw Sun Wukong.

To be precise, they saw the contents of the tattered cloth bag on Sun Wukong's back!

In their minds, Sun Wukong would at least have a few changes of clothes, some coins in his pockets, and with a bit of luck, maybe even a longevity lock or a bracelet. In any case, a meal was assured.

Soon, the two began to follow Sun Wukong, keeping a distance, watching the clumsy guy wander around looking for a place. To their surprise, Sun Wukong seemed to be searching for something, and although he asked many people and didn't find it, the place name he mentioned did sound like a market... Could he be selling something?

This was not uncommon. Often, refugees would exchange valuable items from their homes for gold coins, small bracelets, or jewelry, and then convert them into cash upon arrival, making it easier to carry and reducing the risk of being targeted.

...

Sun Wukong was soon stopped by the two.

Although he hadn't found the Hundred Ghosts Market or a way to make money, he wasn't worried. The tattered cloth bag contained some wild fruits and potatoes he had found on the way, enough to last a few days. So he was just slowly searching, hoping to find a place to rest... If the two sneaky followers didn't bother him, it would be fine.

But he didn't expect them to block his path—did that mean they had some ulterior motive?

Sun Wukong wasn't worried.

Although the two tried to look harmless, the young boy in front of them immediately covered his pocket and asked in shock, "What do you want?"

This was clearly a case of "the thief crying 'stop thief'." Niaojī almost burst out laughing!

But he still held back, feigning surprise and asked, "Are you looking for the White Turtle Market?"

"It's the Hundred Ghosts Market," the boy repeated, nodding. "Why are you asking?"

Still wary, the boy held the cloth bag on his back and tightly covered the pocket of his shirt. After sizing up Sun Wukong's strong build, Niaojī abandoned the idea of a direct robbery and coughed, smiling, "Let me introduce myself. I'm Niaojī. This is my friend Māgǎn."

"My name is Sun Wukong," the boy replied honestly. "I don't seem to know you."

"That's right. You don't know us, but we are connected..." Niaojī gave Māgǎn a nod, and he continued, "Yes, connected—because we usually work at the place you mentioned."

"Right, we work at the White Turtle Market!" Niaojī repeated, emphasizing the name, then asked with a grin, "We were just about to go there, and we heard you asking for this place, so..."

"So we thought we'd ask if you want to go with us." Māgǎn didn't make a mistake this time and put on a benevolent expression, "We often do good deeds."

"Do you know?" The boy seemed skeptical, "I asked many people, and they didn't know... How do you know?"

The two immediately panicked and chimed in:

"Cough, they don't know..."

"They don't want to tell you..."

"Right, if you want information, you have to pay..."

"These people are different from us; we don't charge..."

"We do good deeds!"

"Right, good deeds!"

The boy finally understood, "So you are good people, and the others are bad?"

The two answered in unison, "Exactly!"

"Is that so!" The boy, Sun Wukong, seemed to finally understand, nodded, and became more enthusiastic, "You said you would take me there, uh, really for free?"

"Really!" Niaojī and Māgǎn nodded together, "No problem." Their faces were resolute, and their expressions serious, a stark contrast to their pale, greenish complexions.

Sun Wukong nodded vigorously and thanked them eagerly!

Niaojī and Māgǎn didn't waste any time and immediately led Sun Wukong through the alleys, leading the way with joy in their hearts—this naive boy had finally fallen into their trap!

Unfortunately, they didn't know that Sun Wukong was just as happy, his heart blooming like a flower:

"Hey, this way, the problem of changing my diet is solved!"

The alley became longer and quieter, and after many turns, they suddenly faced a high wall—apparently, they had reached a dead end. On both sides, there were piles of broken objects, straw tables and chairs, covered in moss, indicating that few people came here.

Sun Wukong exclaimed, "We've taken a wrong turn; this way is blocked," and called to the two, "Should we go back?"

"Hehe, no mistake!" Niaojī suddenly squatted down, reached under a stone, and pulled out a rusty machete, waving it at Sun Wukong, "We're here for this."

"Ah!" Sun Wukong turned around, and Māgǎn also pulled out a broken knife, blocking the exit behind him, a smug look on his face, "No more talk, hand over your valuables!"

"Why?" Sun Wukong asked innocently, "Why should I give them to you?"

Niaojī 'hey'ed and took a few steps forward, scolding, "I've already pulled out a knife to rob you, and you're asking why? Are you stupid?"

Sun Wukong timidly replied, "Just because you have a knife, you can rob me? Is there no justice in this world!" He pressed himself against the wall, "You... you..." unable to form a coherent sentence, just mumbling.

Niaojī and Māgǎn found it amusing, shaking their knives and laughing, "Right! With a knife, we're the boss, and we can rob you!"

"Is that so?" Sun Wukong suddenly smiled, a strange glint in his eyes, "I understand!" (To be continued)