Chapter Five: The Foolish Magistrate Is Still Alive?

"Sir, please remember: never walk into the darkness. As long as the lights of this night market remain, the things lurking in the shadows cannot easily harm you."

"Will this night market stay lit forever?"

"No..."

Zhang Rui: "..."

"Why didn't you stop me sooner, Clerk Qian, if this was so dangerous?" Zhang Rui couldn't help but ask.

"There wasn't enough time..." Clerk Qian shook his head. "I never imagined that even though I begged you yesterday to send that plague-god surnamed Tian away as quickly as possible, you would go against common sense today and take his case. Given the situation then, I thought you were either bewitched or replaced by someone else. How could I have dared to interfere?"

Zhang Rui fell silent. At the time, he never could have imagined such a complex situation; otherwise, he never would have agreed so easily.

"Are the consequences really this severe just because I accepted a piece of drawing paper?" Zhang Rui frowned, glancing toward the darkness.

A normal city surely wouldn't be this exaggerated; otherwise, his mother would never have let him leave the house.

"I didn't know it would be this severe either." Clerk Qian looked around with a wry smile. "I thought that after you accepted the plague-god's item, at worst, only your family would suffer. I never expected this outcome. If I had known it was related to the Painting Market, I would have fled with my wife and children before the trial this afternoon."

*Painting Market?*

Zhang Rui paused. The term sounded familiar—had he heard it somewhere before?

"What does this 'Painting Market' that you speak of refer to, Clerk?"

"Magistrate Zhang, you were born in Jiangnan; have you truly never heard of the Painting Market?" Clerk Qian frowned, then realized, "Ah, right. Who knows where the current Magistrate Zhang is actually from?"

Zhang Rui curled his lip. It was hard to explain, so he simply shook his head. "I have indeed never heard of it. But Clerk, since you are certain I am not the real Magistrate Zhang, why are you willing to help me?"

"I can tell that while you may be a bit foolish, you seem like a good person. Otherwise, you wouldn't have tried to help a seemingly vulnerable woman without knowing the full situation."

"Damn it..."

Zhang Rui took a breath, but seeing the black, hairy claws hidden in the other man’s sleeves, he held his tongue and asked again, "You seem very familiar with this so-called Painting Market, Clerk Qian?"

"How could I not be?" Clerk Qian sighed, his gaze drifting. These familiar streets were almost identical to how they were twenty years ago; even many of the people were the same as they once were.

"Then you must know where the path to survival lies, right?"

"Once you've entered this place, who can guarantee a way to survive?" The clerk shook his head with a bitter smile, then looked at the sky. "Time is short. Let me explain the situation here first. Whether you can survive depends on your own fortune."

"Please, instruct me, Clerk." Zhang Rui’s attitude was incredibly respectful.

"The nights in this Painting Market are long and the days are short; there are less than two hours of daylight. To escape, daylight is your only chance, but the prerequisite is surviving the long night." The clerk pointed to the brightly lit, bustling market. "At night, evil spirits run rampant where there is no light. But under the light, no matter how powerful an evil spirit is, it cannot easily reveal its true form, or it will be hunted down by the warriors of the Painting Market. Evil spirits are weak under the light and actually make for a great tonic; killing them is not forbidden but rather a gain. So here, people fear ghosts... but ghosts also fear people."

"Lights?" Zhang Rui looked at the myriad of lights in the market, realizing only now why the streets were so unnervingly bright—it was everywhere.

"But you said earlier that these lights cannot be maintained forever? Where do these lights come from?"

"No one knows." The clerk shook his head. "We only know that wherever there is fire, a market forms; where there is no fire, it is a ghost realm. When day turns to night, new gathering points appear. Those who want to survive will flock to those places, forming a scale before night falls."

"I see..." Zhang Rui understood immediately. They were currently in the time frame where a market had been established, and their location was already a full-scale market, bright and safe.

"This market's light won't last until dawn?"

"It cannot..." The clerk shook his head again. "So, you must earn enough 'Vital Blood' before the market lights go out, to ignite a life-extending lamp."

"*Vital Blood?*" Zhang Rui blinked. A flash of realization crossed his mind; this setup... it felt... strangely familiar.

"Vital Blood acts as lamp oil. If there is no oil, you must burn your own life force. With your current physique, you would likely be drained dry before dawn. You must find a way."

"Can the Vital Blood you speak of be traded?"

"That is the miraculous part of the Painting Market," the clerk lowered his voice. "The world knows that human Vital Blood is refined by the body itself. An ordinary person has only a drop or two of heart-blood in a lifetime; martial artists refine their bodies through wind and snow to be slightly stronger, but that is the essence of life—how could it be traded? Yet here, it can be. As long as both parties agree, a transaction can be formed in the Painting Market. The traded blood can be used as lamp oil or even for one's own use..."

He looked at Zhang Rui sternly. "So, you must be wary of others. In this market, you cannot distinguish between human and ghost, and it is not just ghosts who will harm you. Although you are weak and have little blood to squeeze, even the smallest mosquito is still meat."

"This..." Zhang Rui was stunned. Seeing this, Clerk Qian sighed. "It might be overwhelming to hear, but don't worry, it's hard for anyone to make sense of it the first time."

"Clerk Qian..." Zhang Rui lowered his head, rubbing his temples. "When I left home earlier, I saw my front gate was still there. I want to know, will anything happen if there is no light in my home?"

"No..." The clerk smiled. "You truly are a kind soul, worrying about your family first. But don't worry, residences are very special in the Painting Market. As long as the owner doesn't open the door, no outside evil can enter."

"Does that mean if I return to the County Office now, I'll be safe?"

"Yes!" the clerk nodded, but immediately added, "But your wife won't open the door for you."

"Eh?"

"In the Painting Market, countless 'Painted-Skin' ghosts will impersonate the homeowners to get doors opened. Since you left, countless ghosts have likely already gone to knock on your door pretending to be you. Most families would have been devoured long ago, but your wife is different. Her father, Master Luo, was someone who experienced the Painting Market just like me; he surely warned her since childhood. That girl is as clever and courageous as her father; she won't be fooled. But this leads to one drawback..."

"Even if I go myself, she won't open the door." Zhang Rui understood what he meant.

The Painted-Skin ghosts could impersonate him; his cheap wife probably couldn't tell the difference. Since she couldn't tell, the best way was to trust no one, so his knocking would be meaningless.

However, this also brought him relief. Even though he couldn't hide in the County Office, his mother and siblings should be safe.

"You are still smarter than the previous Magistrate Zhang," the clerk chuckled.

Zhang Rui: "..."

"Since that is the case, good luck to you. I must take my leave."

Zhang Rui paused and hurriedly asked, "Where are you going, Clerk?"

"My old woman isn't as reliable as your wife. Although I warned them multiple times before leaving, I fear she might not be able to resist. I must go guard them all night. If you are still alive by daylight, I will come to find you. Please, hurry."

Clerk Qian walked into a dark alley without looking back and vanished in the blink of an eye.

Zhang Rui looked at the spot where the man had disappeared and then at the lamp stand he had left behind.

There was a faint light in the lamp, and a drop of black liquid was suspended inside—that must be the Vital Blood. The flame looked like it could go out at any moment. If he couldn't find enough Vital Blood before the market lights died, his fate would likely be the same as that of the person dragged into the alley by the old ghost woman.

He couldn't count on Clerk Qian before dawn, but he felt no panic. On the contrary, he felt a surge of excitement.

*Painting Market...*

*No wonder the name sounded familiar.*

After hearing all the details, he was even more certain...

Isn't this just the setting from a failed xianxia web novel draft he had written in the past?

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"Master Tian, why are we heading toward Fuchun County? Won't this take us even further from the Crown Prince?"

After leaving the dock, Master Tian had decisively traded half their grain for a carriage and four life-protecting lamps, leading the group toward Fuchun County, where he had stayed before.

"If we can't get out, we will never see the Crown Prince again!" Master Tian replied coldly to the challenge.

"Does the Master have a way out?" The scholar, having taken a dose of medicinal powder in the carriage, saw his complexion recover a hint of color.

"Do not use the Five-Stone Powder too often." Master Tian frowned at him. "If you continue to abuse this drug, you won't live a few more years."

"I must survive the present to talk about the future," the scholar smiled dismissively, then asked again, "Master, going back—do you have a plan?"

"I have to go back and find that foolish Magistrate."

"Eh?" The scholar was stunned. "The one who took your drawing paper?"

But he immediately realized, "That makes sense. The Painted-Skin woman in that drawing escaped the Painting Market once, so she can escape a second time. Finding her might be a turning point. But... are you sure the Magistrate is still alive? And that the painting is still in his hands?"

"I naturally hold no hope for that fool. I am only returning because I left a mark on that painting."

"I see. Master, your work is truly flawless..." the scholar praised with a smile, then sighed, "If Lu Yuan had your meticulous mind, perhaps he wouldn't have died so easily."

Master Tian did not reply. Of the two top-tier sorcerers in the Crown Prince's mansion, the Prince actually valued Lu Yuan more. But then again, Lu Yuan was younger and had the potential to become a Great Sorcerer, so resources naturally leaned toward the more promising talent. Now that Lu Yuan was dead, he had become just a reckless young man in the scholar's words.

Facts proved that no matter how much potential someone had, once they were dead... they were nothing.

"Hmm?"

Approaching Fuchun County, Master Tian’s expression showed distinct surprise.

"What is it?" the scholar asked hurriedly.

Master Tian looked at the lights hanging around the carriage—those were obtained with half their grain and the Vital Blood of two guards. The rules here were strange, and everywhere was filled with evil spirits or deceitful scoundrels; there was no kindness to be found. Newcomers were at a huge disadvantage and could lose their lives at any moment. Even with their group being elites from the Crown Prince's mansion, they struggled, yet he never expected that guy...

"That foolish Magistrate... is still alive!"

"Oh?"