Although the personâs voice was low, Greg Jensen, who was standing not far away, heard everything loud and clear.
His interest piqued, he stopped in his tracks, intending to see how Fraser Simmons would respond.
The others also looked towards Fraser Simmons, their eyes brimming with anticipation.
âPfft, I encountered a young Divine Doctor, who cured my illness with acupuncture, and it accidentally opened up one of my meridians.â
Fraser Simmons said with a wry smile, âYou donât know, but at that moment the kid nearly killed me. If it werenât for my strong will, you really wouldnât be seeing me right now.â
âOh, is that so.â
The person seemed disappointed, nodding sadly and then squeezing out a smile, flattering, âHa-ha, but youâre fine now, right? Thatâs like a blessing in disguise.â
âYeah, how else would you say Iâm lucky, ha-ha,â said Fraser Simmons, laughing.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
This old bastard, making up stories, Iâll have to deal with him later!
Greg Jensen chuckled inwardly, shook his head, and moved aside, beginning to wander around the place.
He had already reached the seventh level of Qi Refinement. After reaching the ninth level, he would be able to try to manipulate objects with his Divine Sense.
Thus, his main purpose for coming here was to find a Magic Artifact, in preparation for the imminent ninth level of Qi Refinement.
However, after making a round, he found that most of what these people were selling were damaged antiques, like a Compass missing a corner, or a Buddha statue with old craftsmanship, and so on.
They seemed ancient, but they were all just dead objects without the slightest hint of spirituality.
Greg Jensen frowned slightly, but then thought it over and let it go. In the last days of the law, if Magic Artifacts were so easy to find, that would truly be strange.
Just then, a country-looking middle-aged man brought out a dark object and carefully placed it on the table.
Greg Jensen walked over to take a look and discovered that it was actually a Bronze Mask, dark and covered with dark green patina.
He looked up and asked, âCan I have a look at this?â
The seller, a middle-aged man with a face carved by wind and frost, looked like an old farmer from the northwest, very honest in appearance, but his mung bean eyes kept darting about.
He glanced at Greg Jensen and said with a grin, âTake a look, feel free.â
Greg Jensen nodded, picked up the mask, and brought it close to his eyes.
The mask was ice cold to the touch, very rough on the surface, and holding it in his hand, it felt as though something inside was flowing.
Greg Jensen used the Mind Soil Technique for a closer look and a trace of joy flashed through his eyes.
This was actually a Magic Artifact!
He didnât yet know how to use it and didnât dare to probe with True Qi, fearing that something unusual might happen, drawing attention.
Instead of directly asking for the price, Greg Jensen asked, âWhat use does this thing have?â
The middle-aged man showed his innocent smile again and said, âIâm not too sure myself, you better take a look.â
âUh, how do I look at this thing?â
Greg Jensen pretended to be casual, flipping over the mask and asking, âHow much do you want for it?â
âYou make an offer,â responded the middle-aged man, still smiling honestly but with a glint in his eyes.
Greg Jensen sneered inwardly; it seemed the man really didnât know the purpose of the mask but that wasnât stopping him from trying to rip him off.
âThis thing, if I get it, itâs just going to be a decoration. You set a price. If itâs reasonable, Iâll buy it. If itâs too expensive, then forget about it.â
Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man frowned and held up five fingers.
Greg Jensen was taken aback and deliberately asked, âFive thousand?â
With his face turning dark, the middle-aged man replied with some irritation, âIâm talking about five million.â
âFive million? Why donât you just rob me?â
Greg Jensen placed the mask back on the table, not bothering to negotiate the price, and turned to leave.
âHey, brother, the price can be discussed!â
âIt can be discussed?â
Greg Jensen stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at the middle-aged man.
âWe can definitely talk, ha ha.â
The middle-aged man forced a smile. He truly wanted to make a killing from the deal, but seeing Greg Jensen about to leave made him anxious.
He had been taking this Bronze Mask to several exchanges without finding a single buyer, not even someone asking about the price.
Finding someone who actually wanted to buy it, he couldnât let the opportunity slip away.
Greg Jensen pondered for a moment and said, âWell, how about ten thousand bucks? Iâll take it off your hands right now for ten thousand.â
âTen thousand? Youâ¦â
The middle-aged manâs face suddenly darkened. âBro, are you messing with me?â
âHey, itâs not fun if you put it that way.â
Greg Jensen frowned and said, âYou were the one who said we could talk.â
The middle-aged man grimaced and replied, âSure, the price is negotiable, but not like this. I want five million, and you come back at me offering ten thousand?â
âSo ten thousand wonât work?â
âIt wonât sell!â
âThen forget it, Iâm not buying.â
âWait a minute, put in a bit more. I spent two hundred thousand to get this thing.â
Greg Jensen suddenly widened his eyes. âYou bought it for two hundred thousand and youâre asking for five million?â
âHeh heh, just trying to make some money,â the middle-aged man laughed.
After a bit of back-and-forth, they settled on a price of two hundred and fifty thousand. As soon as the transaction was swiftly done, the middle-aged man packed up his things and headed out.
Greg Jensen looked at the Bronze Mask in his hands, brought it to his nose, and a strong earthy smell hit him in the face.
He frowned and looked up at the middle-aged manâs retreating figure, a notion stirring in his mind. He pulled out his phone and called Cole Barnett.
âThereâs a middle-aged man dressed like an old farmer heading out. Follow him, and keep a close eye on him.â
âWill do, Mr. Jensen.â
Trailing the middle-aged man was a spur-of-the-moment decision because Greg Jensen suspected the Bronze Mask might have come from underground.
If that place had yielded a Bronze Mask, could there be other Magic Artifacts or treasures?
He didnât pay it much mind. After assigning Cole Barnett to keep watch, he put away the Bronze Mask and casually browsed through the venue before finding a table to sit down at.
He took out the Jade Bottles containing Elixirs and placed them on the table, then started resting with his eyes closed, leaning back in his chair.
The Simmons family thought the original small vials were rather shabby and had these bottles specially made.
Greg Jensen was indifferent about it, so he just went along with them.
After a while, the venue started getting crowded, and the atmosphere became livelier.
Right then, a group of young men and women walked up to Greg Jensen, and one of them asked, âWhatâs inside these bottles?â
Greg Jensen opened his eyes to see a twenty-something playboy who seemed to have practiced martial arts for a few years, but with a shaky gait and puffy eyes, revealing that he had long neglected his training.
He glanced at the girl the playboy was holding and understood the situation. Smiling, he said:
âThese are Elixirs, for replenishing Qi and strengthening True Qi. Three million per pill, firm price, no bargaining.â
The woman heard this and immediately flared up, saying shrilly, âThree million? Why donât you just go rob someone!â
Why does this sound so familiar?
Greg Jensenâs face turned dark. Holding his temper, he explained, âThis Elixir not only warms and nourishes Qi but also enhances True Qi. Itâs a rare and excellent product.â
The woman sneered, âEnhance True Qi? Do you think youâre a master from Healington? Look at yourself; do you look like someone who could make that kind of Elixir?â
âDonât listen to his nonsense. There are plenty selling Elixirs, all claiming theirs enhance True Qi.â
âEvery time thereâs a convention, there are several fraudstersâ¦â
The playboyâs friends thought Greg Jensen was a con, but his eyes lit up, and he asked eagerly, âCan it really warm and replenish Qi?â