Chapter 16: Buying a Knife

Under the terrified gaze of both the blond youth and the shopkeeper, Shi Yue dashed to the counter, stepped on it, and leapt high into the air—landing a foot squarely on the shopkeeper’s shiny bald head. The shopkeeper staggered and crashed into the shelves, sending a cascade of items clattering onto the floor.

“Holy shit!” The blond guy’s eyes bulged. The opponent might be a girl, but he knew all too well how dangerous a dagger was in a street fight. No way was he going to attempt some heroic bare-handed knife disarm. Gritting his teeth through the pain in his heel, he turned and ran.

Shi Yue didn’t bother chasing. She snatched the barcode scanner off the counter and hurled it at the back of his head. A crisp crack rang out in the dark, followed by a yelp, and the blond youth toppled to the ground. He clutched his throbbing skull and tried to get up—only to see Shi Yue charging toward him. Before he could react, her flying kick smashed directly into his face.

The force was brutal. His right cheek slammed into the floor, the cheekbone exploding with hammer-like pain and numbness. His teeth buzzed, and even his breathing sped up from the shock. Bracing on his forearm, he tried to rise again, but the agony on his face kept him paralyzed. Tears welled uncontrollably. It felt like he was being eaten alive by pain.

By then, Shi Yue had already turned to deal with the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper, grabbing the side of a shelf, barely hauled up his pudgy body and stumbled behind the counter to search frantically. Soon he fished out a hammer. He gripped it tightly, looked up—and saw Shi Yue standing over the defeated blond kid, sprinting straight toward him.

The shopkeeper drew a deep breath and raised the heavy hammer.
But the instant his eyes met the glint of the blade in Shi Yue’s hand, he dropped the hammer with a clang and collapsed to his knees, hands clasped in a pleading salute.

“M-Miss… M-Miss Wang?! Is—Is that you?!”

“…Huh?”

Shi Yue braked so abruptly she nearly face-planted into the tiles.

Miss? Who? …Me?

Under the shop lights, the shopkeeper’s bald, ghost-pale head gleamed glaringly bright. Shi Yue kept a cautious five-step distance.

Meanwhile, the blond youth, clutching his swollen face, managed to crawl up again. Seeing Shi Yue and the kneeling shopkeeper, he turned to flee—only for Shi Yue to fling the fruit knife. The blade sliced past his ear and buried itself deep in the trunk of a small tree.

His legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees and begged for mercy.

Seeing this, the shopkeeper became even more convinced of her identity. He shuffled forward on his knees.

“I—I’ve long heard that Boss Wang’s daughter is a martial arts prodigy, especially unmatched in knife techniques… Miss Wang, since this is our first meeting, please forgive me! This—this was all my fault! Miss Wang, please don’t hold it against us!”

Not far away, the blond youth, hearing “Boss Wang’s daughter,” blanched. He crawled over and grabbed Shi Yue’s pant leg, begging pitifully.

Shi Yue stared at them coldly, but her mind was a fog.

Boss Wang… who?
Boss Wang’s daughter… Miss Wang… who??

She could only assume they had mistaken her for some knife-wielding underworld heiress they had heard of but never actually seen.

“Do I really look like an expert?” she wondered.

“Ahem.” She coughed twice, not denying it but lowering her voice deliberately.
“Good that you know. If you piss me off, I don’t need my dad to deal with you. I can handle you two by myself.”

“Yes, yes!!”

“Thank you for sparing our lives, Miss!”

“…,” Shi Yue was speechless. After thinking for a moment, she decided to interrogate them first.

From questioning, she learned the blond guy really was the shopkeeper’s plant, often helping other black-market shops hunt targets. He knew all the shady stores around here. This shop was part of the Wu’an District black market—they specialized in coercive rip-offs. Passersby, especially newcomers, were tricked here by the blond guy and forced to buy garbage items at outrageous prices, something they called “clearing stock.” Neither police nor gangs bothered with such small scams, and the victims were usually ordinary people like Shi Yue, so no one had ever reported or retaliated.

As for the Wu’an black market, though hidden inside ordinary street shops, they all used coded slang to identify each other to avoid police checks, and usually only traded with familiar customers. Outsiders who only came chasing rumors either found nothing or got thoroughly scammed.

Like their last victim—a pretty girl forced to buy two boxes of tea for ten thousand yuan.

Outside the shop, Shi Yue sat atop the counter, one leg crossed over the other, looking down at the two trembling men.

“So since you really are black market people—do you have the weapons I asked about or not?”

She twirled her dagger, glancing toward the storeroom.
“Is that all you’ve got?”

“Oh, of course not! Miss, please follow me. Xiao Huang, stay here and guard the front, and tidy the shelves.”

The shopkeeper led her into the back storeroom alone. It was filled with ordinary goods like the outer shelves. In the corner was a fire extinguisher box. The shopkeeper moved it aside, opened the hidden door beneath, and grinned nervously, signaling her to go down with him.

As he fumbled for the light switch, Shi Yue—blessed with night vision—could already see everything clearly.

The entire basement was packed with blades of every kind: long knives, short knives, double-edged swords, all hanging in neat rows. Along one wall were tables covered with jars of unknown liquids, pieces of clothing, and even a… military flamethrower.

“I don’t have much else. Just lots of knives. Military ones, restricted ones, and collector’s pieces. Take your pick.”

Even sheathed, the blades radiated a dangerous aura—like scales on a giant beast forming a wall of sharpened armor.

Shi Yue looked around from left to right. She took down a katana-like blade and unsheathed it with a swift shing, examining it closely. Then another. And another. She tested six or seven in a row. They were surprisingly decent. The black market’s reputation was well earned.

The shopkeeper hovered, acting like a salesman, passionately explaining the origins, types, and uses of each blade. Some were made illegally in underground workshops; others had leaked from the military before being passed through gangs into his hands. Black-market products had the common trait of bizarre, unpredictable origins.

Shi Yue barely listened. She unsheathed each blade, testing the weight, the balance—until her eyes fixed on one particular sword.

“This one?”

“Oh? Ah—yes, that one is… a Miao dao. Seems like a custom collector’s piece. Got it from a pawnshop.”

Custom made…
It really did feel different from the others. The rest felt too long for her frame—she was a girl, after all, smaller in build. But this one, though slightly shorter, fit perfectly in her hands.

She gripped it with both hands and swung lightly. The blade carved a clear whisper through the air. It was the only blade with carvings on its hilt—she couldn’t read them, but the sword had an ancient aura unlike the others. She sheathed it and hung the scabbard at her waist. The black sheath looked like it imprisoned a demon.

“This one. How much?”