Chapter Seven: The Transaction (Part Two)

The heavy sword before him was about seven fingers wide, two and a half fingers thick, and, when placed on the weapon rack, reached the height of an adult's waist or abdomen. It was undeniably large and weighty. On the hilt of the sword was engraved a Wind Spirit Array; when activated, this array could make the sword significantly lighter. There were also several tiny holes on the blade, and when Xiu Yi casually swung the sword, he could clearly hear the sharp whistling of the wind passing through them.

This was a common practice among warriors, for some could channel their battle aura through such apertures to produce an even sharper, more piercing sound. Those with profound aura could even harness the sonic waves to directly assault an opponent’s mind, causing unconsciousness or even death.

The blade was also adorned with exquisite patterns, mere decoration with no special function, but they lent the sword an ornate and flamboyant appearance. Xiu Yi noted that even the brocade box beside the sword, intended for its storage, was crafted from the finest aromatic wood, inlaid with delicate enamel mosaics, and carved with legendary heroes from ancient myth.

“A fine heavy sword, though it’s a pity about the Wind Spirit Array,” Xiu Yi remarked lightly.

The warrior nearby, having seen Xiu Yi swing the heavy sword with such ease, already had some idea of the young man’s strength. Hearing Xiu Yi’s comment, he stepped forward and said, “Isn’t the Wind Spirit Array a good thing? It makes the sword lighter and more agile.”

Xiu Yi smiled. “The strength of a heavy sword lies in its cleaving power, not in thrusting. Its very weight is what enhances its destructive force. As a warrior yourself, you surely understand this principle.”

The warrior grinned. “Indeed, fitting a heavy sword with a Wind Spirit Array is tantamount to weakening its cleaving power. You then rely solely on your own strength, unable to draw upon the sword’s might.”

The nobleman who had accompanied the warrior laughed and said, “Such a weapon is made precisely for people like us—those who lack martial skill but still wish to make a grand impression. Sometimes the sons of wealthy families need to display a bit of bravado, and nothing does so better than a heavy sword like this. As long as they secretly activate the array, it looks as though they possess great strength. Occasionally they can even fool a number of naïve young ladies.”

The nobleman spoke with such humor and self-mockery that it was impossible not to feel a certain fondness for him. He explained, in jest, why the Wind Spirit Array was inscribed on the sword, without a trace of pretension.

No wonder, then, that so much care had been lavished on the sword’s decoration, and even the sword box was crafted so beautifully—its primary purpose was as an ornament.

The elderly shopkeeper, seeing Xiu Yi’s apparent interest in weapons and armor, hastened to say, “If you wish to choose a weapon, sir, we do have some fine stock in the back.”

To his surprise, Xiu Yi shook his head. “No, it’s this heavy sword that has caught my eye. It’s excellent—perfect for me.”

“How much for this weapon?” he asked the old man.

“One hundred gold Vitts,” the old man replied.

It was by no means a cheap price, but such ornamental weapons were meant for idle young nobles, who were the least likely to lack money.

“That’s truly unfortunate. I don’t have that much money on me,” Xiu Yi said with a sigh and a shake of his head.

No one found this surprising—Xiu Yi was obviously strolling about with a leisurely air; who would carry a hundred gold Vitts while idling through town? It’s like how few people would carry tens of thousands in cash while shopping, unless they specifically planned to buy something expensive.

At that moment, Claris suddenly spoke up, “Don’t you still have those three potions? You don’t need them anyway.”

She noticed Xiu Yi’s appreciative glance, clearly praising her for her timely interjection.

Sure enough, the old man asked curiously, “Sir, are you not planning to keep those potions?”

“Oh,” Xiu Yi replied casually, “they mean nothing to me. I learned my battle aura from my family tutor. You know, young men can be impulsive, and sometimes there are frictions between youths of various families. I suffered a few losses in that regard, so I picked up some martial skills. But that doesn’t mean I intend to go to war—so I have no use for the potions. As for those bottles, they were simply given to me as payment in kind this time I collected debts for my family—a real wastrel tried to settle his debt with the most valuable things he had, but they only covered three hundred gold Vitts. Before my family learns about these three potions, I’m free to dispose of them as I like. I only need to return three hundred gold Vitts to my family.”

Everyone present understood what Xiu Yi meant: a heavy sword suitable for showing off was of more practical value to him than a few rare potions. The old man also realized why Xiu Yi was unwilling to reveal the maker’s name.

Neither the seller of the potions nor this young noble wished for the matter to become widely known. For the young noble, if his family learned he had secretly sold three top-grade potions for his own benefit, he would likely be severely punished.

Clearly, the youth did not intend to tell the whole truth, but his fondness for the heavy sword and the lack of cash prompted him to sell the potions on the spot. It was a perfect opportunity—the shopkeeper realized this.

The middle-aged noble smiled, “I imagine you come from a most distinguished family.”

Xiu Yi replied soberly, “Such actions, no matter how justified, would bring shame to my family’s reputation. Please allow me to keep my family’s name secret.”

Claris was utterly convinced.

She finally understood why Xiu Yi had put on such a performance earlier.

This little liar—he truly was a trickster! He used his supposed fondness for the heavy sword as an excuse to utter a lie he “reluctantly revealed,” then used that lie to cover the gap of not being able to disclose the potion maker, reassuring the shopkeeper so he could safely buy the potions without worrying about their source. At the same time, the lie allowed Xiu Yi to keep his identity secret, making the shop trust him more while rendering his background untraceable.

Claris recalled someone once told her: a simple lie, combined with masterful acting, can accomplish a great deception. Conversely, even the most elaborate trickery will fail without convincing performance.

This little liar understood this perfectly. The lie itself was not so ingenious; its power lay in how naturally he played out the entire scene.

He first drew everyone’s attention with his assessment of the potions, then proved their value and effect but refused to sell, stoking desire. Finally, he played the part of a prodigal noble, expressing love for the heavy sword. She herself, unwittingly, played into his hands, giving him the perfect opportunity to deliver his well-prepared lie, making everything seem effortless and natural, dispelling all of the shop’s doubts without a trace of artifice.

No wonder this scoundrel kept her by his side.

Claris could scarcely imagine who this youth truly was. Not only did he possess the finest potions, he could execute a simple con with such flawless artistry.

Oh, this little liar’s skill was truly consummate—no wonder he had managed to fool his master so thoroughly and successfully steal those alchemical items in the end. If the shop learned the true provenance of the potions, with their connections, they might well contact that merchant in Killery, and the youth’s presence in Fragrant Leaf City would be exposed.

Claris finally realized something: this seemingly handsome and youthful boy was far more mature than she had ever imagined. He was not only shrewd in business but also understood human nature profoundly. Though he was not yet sixteen, his mind was already more seasoned than most adults.

At least more mature than I am, she thought with some regret. He didn’t need to feign toughness to display his strength.

What followed was simple. The shopkeeper took two of the potions, and the nobleman bought the berserk potion for his warrior.

Having obtained the heavy sword, Xiu Yi left with Claris, carrying a full two thousand gold Vitts.

Claris’s mood had shifted from regret and annoyance over refusing the three potions to indignation and dissatisfaction with Xiu Yi’s lies.

“You little cheat! You pretended to be a noble, deceived and fooled everyone. Those potions were stolen, and now you’ve sold them openly to the shop. If your former master discovers those potions in the shop, he’ll surely come after you. I’m going to the city lord to report you!” Claris scolded, grinding her teeth.

“I bet that’s not what you really want to say, Claris. How much will it take to keep you quiet?” Xiu Yi replied.

Claris’s eyes sparkled with a teasing allure. “Oh, Fink, why have I never noticed how adorable you are?”

“Because you’ve known me less than twenty days, Claris. Now tell me, how much do you want?”

“Half.”

“Impossible. I suggest you go ahead and turn me in. But before that, I’ll leave you behind. Life on the run is nothing new to me.”

“One third,” Claris bargained cheerfully.

“Dream on,” Xiu Yi replied, quickening his pace.

“Oh, a quarter. No less. From today, you won’t have to do any more work in the troupe, nor pay back your previous debts. Until we reach Southwell Town, you can spend all your time with my girls—don’t you find them charming?” Claris chased after him, her voice full of enticement.

Xiu Yi tilted his head in thought. “If I say, besides those twenty-five gold Vitts, I won’t give you a coin more, are you sure you’ll report me?”

Claris’s expression faltered for a moment.

Xiu Yi smiled. “You’re not as ruthless as you pretend to be, Captain Claris.”

Her mask of cunning slipped away. Claris shrugged helplessly and sighed, “All right, you win. Strange—why do you trust that I won’t betray you? I only wanted to borrow some money. Do you know how much I regret refusing those potions? You’ve shown me that I’m the biggest fool in the world.”

“I thought my earlier suggestion would help you solve your financial problems.”

“It does, but only enough to rent a venue for a limited time. The troupe is too small, and we lack some necessary props. The girls’ costumes are patched and worn and should have been replaced long ago. We can’t let anyone notice. Casey’s family is poor—she sends money home every month to help her siblings. Anna’s parents are bedridden, and she must support them. Daisy’s family is deep in debt, and even the interest is suffocating her. Lanty has always dreamed of owning a bracelet, even the cheapest kind. Oh, I’m a useless leader—my girls live in hardship, and I can’t provide for them. So if any of them want to leave, I never stop them. Your idea gave the troupe a livelihood but cut off the girls’ path—I want to make it up to them. But I just don’t have enough money.”

Her voice was low, tinged with sobs, tears glistening in her eyes.

Xiu Yi laughed gently. “All right, Captain Claris, your tears have moved me. I know you’re telling the truth, but there’s no need to be so dramatic. You’re not as miserable as you make out. If you burst into tears every time you thought of the girls’ hardships, you’d have ended it all long ago.”

Claris gave Xiu Yi a disapproving kick and looked at him with teary eyes. “At least you believe me, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know you’re not lying—just not used to seeing you, usually so strong, suddenly so sentimental.”

“Acting is my profession,” Claris replied with a playful smile.

It was only at moments like this that the troupe leader revealed her feminine charm. Xiu Yi studied her and realized she was actually quite young herself. To shoulder the responsibilities of a troupe in her twenties, she must have suffered much.

Xiu Yi placed the bag of two thousand gold Vitts into Claris’s hands.

Claris was stunned. “I don’t need this much. You need money too.”

“Use it to do what you must. Return the rest to me afterward.”

Claris’s fleeting emotion vanished as she took the money and dashed toward the inn. “I’ll pay you back!” she called.

Watching Claris flee as though afraid Xiu Yi would change his mind, he could not help but burst out laughing.

——————————————

Perhaps Claris would never truly understand why, after all she had done, Xiu Yi was still so generous and magnanimous toward her.

Did he desire her beauty? It didn’t seem so. Claris could sense that deep down, the youth was anything but immature; on the contrary, he possessed a maturity few could match. To spend two thousand gold Vitts just to win a beauty’s smile? Even nobles were not so extravagant.

For Xiu Yi, the troupe was like a happy family—though not free of troubles, worries, and quarrels, at least he did not have to struggle against intrigue every day.

Yes, intrigue.

Even after leaving Purgatory Island, he was only expanding the arena of scheming and struggle, not escaping it. He had not broken free from duplicity and pretense, had not shaken off the habit of lurking in the shadows, always ready to deliver a fatal blow to his enemies.

Though wandering the world was his aim, and alchemy his pursuit, the Lance Empire would never let him go.

He would not take revenge, but neither would he cower like a rat, hiding day and night in terror.

This was destined to be a war—a forced counterattack. A war he did not seek, but which would relentlessly pursue him.

And from the moment he left Purgatory Island, the war had only just begun.

His enemies were formidable, but that did not mean he could not resist.

He would not only resist—he would ensure the Lance Empire witnessed his defiance, be shaken by it, and come to fear him. Like a proud warrior, even in death, he would fight to the end.

In this, Rashel had not misjudged him.

Even in the hellish conditions of Purgatory Island, he had not forgotten how to strike back from the abyss. How could he simply vanish after leaving that infernal place?

He would never do that.

That was why he could tolerate Claris’s extortion—because, to him, at least Claris was genuine, unpretentious, and required no guardedness.

Within the troupe, he could at last experience the long-lost warmth of simple human companionship—even if only for a fleeting moment.

Many things are only truly cherished once lost.

For Xiu Yi, this feeling of peaceful coexistence was perhaps the most precious thing of all, for he had been without it for far too long.