Chapter 2477 — Meeting Yang Qiqi Again

This was why every ancient sect preferred to find hidden families to serve as their spokesmen, rather than seeking out secular families or secular people—they feared being accused of meddling in the secular world.

Still, the dejection of Zuo Panhu and Kang Jinglong struck Wei Zhao as merely temporary; once the two of them got past this stretch, they would pop up again.

Frankly, Wei Zhao had no way to deal with them for the moment. The rules of the White Leader were what they were, and he could hardly stoop to moving against his own classmates. He only hoped they would not go too far.

In the blink of an eye, the day of the cultivators' market arrived.

Han Xiaohu drove up to the gate of Wei Zhao's villa first thing in the morning.

The trip to the cultivators' market would not take long, and Wei Zhao needed little arranging; he simply had Wu Chengtian return to take over as his driver and bodyguard, and to drive Gu Mengyao, Shen Yushu, Han Jingyi, and Han Xiaochao to school.

As for the hidden Pi family, they had only come here to stay temporarily. With the matter concluded, Old Master Pi took Pi Zhifeng and Pi Zhitao back to the hidden Pi family.

Though the earlier probes by the hidden You and Yu families suggested that the Hidden Family Arbitration Association existed in name only, the hidden Pi family still dared not linger long in the secular world. Even if Wei Zhao was a powerful patron, the founder of the Hidden Family Arbitration Association back then had been even more powerful.

"Leader, let's get ready to set off. You have everything with you?" Han Xiaohu asked, stepping out of the car.

"Yes, all here—just these." Wei Zhao pointed at the backpack behind him. In truth, he did not carry much: aside from the things he had won at the hidden-family summit, he had a few pills refined by Han Jingyi, and the most precious of all was the turtle-saliva ice crystal he had obtained from the lake beneath the valley during the winter outing. Only, Wei Zhao had no idea what the thing was actually worth.

Judging by how much the heaven-tier soft-shelled turtle had valued it, it had to be quite rare.

"Then let's go." Han Xiaohu nodded and waved Wei Zhao into the car.

Elephant Heart Mountain lay between Donghai City and Songshan City. Songshan City was called that, naturally, because mountains surrounded it—great peaks without end and lesser hills without number—and Elephant Heart Mountain was one of them. It was just that Elephant Heart Mountain was extremely out of the way, with no tourist attractions on it, and so few people ever went there.

Han Xiaohu drove to the foot of Elephant Heart Mountain, only to find that the place was busier than usual today. In the open space at the base of the mountain, luxury cars gathered in crowds—Benz, BMW, Land Rover everywhere, along with top-tier cars like Rolls-Royce and Bentley, and no small number of sports cars.

The sight made Wei Zhao click his tongue in secret. These cultivators were certainly rich! And the Benz sedan Han Xiaohu drove seemed downright ordinary here.

Not one of these luxury cars, however, bore a license plate. In its place was something like a special pass, stuck where the plate should have been.

Han Xiaohu's car had one too, affixed before they started up the mountain. It marked the vehicle as one coming to attend the cultivators' market, and also kept uninformed civilian cars from driving up and disrupting the market's secrecy and normal trade.

Han Xiaohu seemed to read Wei Zhao's surprise, and laughed. "Cultivators—who among them is poor? Even the retainers and guest elders attached to the various hidden families and sects draw a hefty monthly stipend. And the loose cultivators are mostly hired guards for wealthy bosses, with no small pay either."

"I see." Wei Zhao nodded, and he and Han Xiaohu put on their masks. Then they got out of the car together.

Those who came to the cultivators' market generally masked themselves or disguised their faces. This was an unwritten convention formed over the years—not a demand of the market's organizers, but a precaution by the traders themselves, who feared that showing their true faces would invite robbery once the deals were done. After all, everyone here was trading precious treasures; if the wrong eyes fixed on you, trouble would never end. This, too, was to keep identities secret.

Of course, some who were confident in their strength—experts at the peak of the late earth tier or the early heaven tier—went unmasked. Their power spoke for itself; they were generally the finest figures such a small market could produce, and naturally they did not fear anyone daring to set their sights on them.

And cultivators of still higher ranks were unlikely to be interested in what these earth-tier cultivators had to trade anyway.

Wei Zhao and Han Xiaohu's arrival drew little attention, for the two of them were simply too ordinary—a low-key car, and masks that revealed nothing of who they were.

Wei Zhao, though, glanced over the cultivators attending the market: most were mystic-tier experts and early-to-mid earth-tier hands. Late earth-tier or above were rare, and he saw no heaven-tier cultivators among this crowd.

Wei Zhao still wore his male-bandit mask, but beneath it he had on the thousand-thread mask given to him by the heaven-tier spider. The purpose was double insurance—should the outer mask fall off, his identity would not be exposed.

The cultivators' market was a混杂 den of dragons and snakes, and Wei Zhao did not want too many eyes on him.

Out of the car, Wei Zhao followed Han Xiaohu toward the foot of the mountain. They had not gone far when they saw a crowd gathered around some spectacle. Wei Zhao was not one for spectacles; after a faint glance, he meant to circle around, but Han Xiaohu said, "Leader, let's take a look—there might be something good!"

Wei Zhao's steps paused slightly at that, and then he nodded. Han Xiaohu was right: ordinarily Wei Zhao would never go watch a commotion, but here, if Han Xiaohu said there might be something good, then there really might be. So Wei Zhao decided to follow Han Xiaohu and take a look.

But when Wei Zhao's gaze fell on the two people at the center, his brow furrowed slightly. Of the two, one was a stranger he neither knew nor cared about—but the other had left a deep impression on him. Wasn't that Yang Qiqi?

Yang Qiqi was wearing a black face mask at the moment, but that explosive little black leather jacket and leather pants, and that gritted-teeth, coolly murderous expression, let Wei Zhao recognize her at once.

Wei Zhao naturally remembered those close to him well—especially this Yang Qiqi. Whether it was the rescue in Songshan City, the aid at Blue Town, or their meeting in the ice palace trial, all had left a deep impression on him.

Others might not recognize her, but Wei Zhao had spotted her at a glance. And this cool girl seemed to be getting the worst of it, didn't she?