Demonic Tribulations - Chapter 64 preview (Patreon)

Chapter 64 – Yang Mu

Mind spinning, Yang Mu listened with half an ear to what Yu Ag was describing to her of their next few destinations. All big cities, all in a pretty much straight line, because now, they could cut out the winding roadways and inefficient passages to avoid powerful spirit beasts. In turn, because they would be moving much faster and lighter, their purchases would lean into her strength. High value, small items and perishable goods that would have to be transported quickly.

That meant understanding the local geography of the cities they would travel to, fashionable trends – easier to pluck upon with her dao – and what goods were in constant demand. Whether it was mandarins or longans that were out of season further east, to spices that had been stored for transportation or meats from freshly slaughtered demonic animals prone to spoiling, they were all goods that would fetch a high price. No one would be surprised then, that they stopped only at big cities, and if they angled directly for a new demonic realm, picking up additional high value, perishable items; that too would be a relevant excuse.

All of which, of course, relied upon her companion convincing the peng to bear them. He knew not what deals were made to allow the demons to follow along, or what agreements Wu Ying must bargain for, but she trusted he would be successful.

Had to be, really, or else everything that she purchased would be wasted.

“Dangerous,” Yu Ag said. “Gone in days. Too long…” She pointed at the silky white flesh of the desert fish that lay, filleted and soaked in cactus juice before them. There were as an entire chest of this product, the smell so powerful that Yang Mu had to breathe through her nose.

“But it’s fresh, right now, isn’t it? And he says it needs to be consumed on the last day, for the best flavor. Correct?” Yu Ag nodded, reluctantly. “Then, this is perfect.”

“Peng not that fast.”

“Ah, but my companion is.” A slight twitch of her lips, as Yang Mu continued. “Together, I’m sure they can speed up the journey.” In turn, she could see the twisting shades of interaction between liquid, meat and air. She understood what was happening, and believed with a little tweak of her own aura, she could slow the process further. “How much?”

The bargaining session was vigorous, though less heated than some others. There were no allusions to her sexuality, her parents parentage or anything of the sort. Some discussion about how she was driving the poor merchant out of business, and their dozen starving children who would be forced to drink fish soup and scrabble for dirt. The fishmonger himself was quite good, managing to lie through his teeth without a single false emotion in body or face.

Once the deal was struck and spirit stones had passed hands – taken from her own mortal purse, which she had carried with her all this way – she scooped up the contents after sealing it all and moved on. There were dozens of such stalls that she could focus upon, delicacies for consumption, spices that were dried but were slowly losing their potency, even spirit plants and creatures that might be worthwhile bringing.

Those last, it was Yu Ag who contributed.

“Live, short.” Yu Ag pointed to a group of tiny, monkey-like creatures staring out of a cage. Large eyes that filled the entirety of the irises, set upon a small, flat and furred face, watched passerby’s with plaintive looks, tiny chirps released once in a while. “Popular pets. But big gardens. Special treats. Most die, travel.”

“What kind of special treats?” Yang Mu asked, only for the merchant to interrupt.

“These, great cultivator.” Long fingers were stretched out, palm flat to showcase the tiny pellets. Yang Mu had to squint a little to pick out the pellets against the floral backdrop of the merchant’s hand, so small and colorful were the pellets themselves. “Special made and expensive to make, .this formulation a special family recipe. I sell both.” He lifted his chin, twisted and spat to the side in the direction of another merchant that was glaring at him. “Mine are the best.”

“Best my foot… their fur grow too soft, addicted.”

“As though you have caught a xiaomohuo in the last month.”

“We don’t use dogs-”

Yu Ag was the one who cut them off by letting out a shrill shriek. It shocked Yang Mu though from the reactions of the other demons, was less uncommon to them. She stamped between the two and started blasting them in the demonic tongue with such vigor and invective, Yang Mu could not help but memorise the screed. When she was done, she spun to the demon with the creatures on-hand and blathered on, till she beckoned Yang Mu over.

“Two large Core Formation stones.”

“Two?” Yang Mu said, surprised.

“Two.” A vigorous nod. “All for us.”

Not that she was poor, but Core Formation stones were the general highest form of currency utilized by cultivators. Even a powerful magical sword, one worked by another Core Formation cultivator might only be worth a few stones of that strength. A single stone might garner one a whole pill bottle to aid cultivation, to push an individual ever higher.

To pay two, for such creatures, was surprising. They were not even in the Energy Formation stage, as far as she could tell. Cute, certainly, but that they were this expensive here… Making up her mind, she passed the stones over, collected the pellets and watched as Yu Ag scooped up the cage, holding it in her hand and making chittering noises to the xiaomohuo. The creatures calmed almost immediately, with Yu Ag carrying them about as Yang Mu continued her journey through the quarters, following the tug of her dao.

Once you found a single person who specialized in luxuries, finding others was often easy. While the occasional individual might lack the specific contacts that she wanted, it was unusual in the extreme. More often than not, those working in the same class of goods would interact with one another, recognizing like with like.

Individuals – demons, cultivators, mortals or immortals – were social creatures. It was never more apparent than in the shades of connections they exhibited. There, a beggar sat, missing a leg. Looked over and ignored by the general populace, shrinking away and backing off as guards wandered by lest they be struck.

Yet, there were shades to such connections and interactions. There, that guard glowing in purple, who was silently sympathetic to their plight. A small shade, a tiny thread overshadowed by the darker, more virulent brown of disgust by his squad leader as he strode past. He almost struck out, Yang Mu felt, if the beggar had not retreated.

Even isolated, cast to the sides, the beggar had his own palette. Shades of color, leading outwards – into the distance, where a shop owner might drop their leftover dinners late at night for the man and others like him. To the pair of friends, on other portions of this street who plied their trade, the trio bonded over shared money for food and drink and resin to kill the pain. In the distance, faded but present, the care of a priest and nearly gone, a family abandoned. Tiny lines, in multiple shades, connections to other homeless, to the merchants, to those who had gifted or taken from them.

Even isolated by station and injury, the crippled demon was not alone. What more could be said about these merchants, who made it their living to sell to others. Theirs was a kaleidoscope that an immortal might spend a decade studying alone, understanding the shifting lines of emotions, duty and love.

Find a single merchant, sift through their past, their present and their emotions and Yang Mu might located others of their kind. Speak with them, purchasing goods as needed and drift on. Following the pulse of the unseen dao, while behind, her escort watched for trouble, made introductions and smoothed over her abrupt departures, all while making arrangements for goods to be delivered to a bird that they did not own.

Blowing through the market, spending like a drunk sailor, Yang Mu reveled in the use of her dao and her merchant skills. All while weeping for the coin that she left on the table, knowing that she might never return.

It mattered not. By the time the sun began to set, she was ready.

Hopefully, Ying was too.