"Fiona, we've officially stepped into the South Wasteland now, right? So, where's that connection you mentioned? Weren't you going to surprise us?" Yang Qi pointed ahead: "Don't tell me it's over there?" The spot Yang Qi pointed to was a run-down cluster of buildings that looked like a refugee camp, full of dusty, grimy people.
But Fiona Fang nodded immediately, "That's right, my connection is right there!" She led the convoy forward and explained in a low voice, "Don't underestimate them—that's the black market, but here in the South Wasteland, they call it 'The Big Market.' The guards at Wind Cry Pass are half-hearted at best; most of them just take bribes and let things slide, so they don't really check anything. But some things really can't go through the checkpoint, and that's when 'The Big Market' shines."
That refugee camp-looking place wasn't far—just a few hundred meters past the checkpoint. Under the setting sun, the convoy rolled into the long street. Lots of people on both sides stared at them, and the looks from those shadowy corners weren't exactly friendly. If a good kid walked through here, they'd be shaking in their boots. Luckily, everyone in the convoy was the rough-and-tumble type, so all they did was glare back. Nothing happened on the way in.
"Hahaha, bringing a crew is definitely the way to go!" Fiona Fang laughed, then explained, "The Big Market is a mess. Lots of sketchy folks hang out here, but the sketchier they are, the more tricks they've got. If you can set up shop this close to Wind Cry Pass, you're no pushover. The guy I'm taking you to meet is especially impressive. In the South Wasteland, having him on your side means you're ten times faster and ten times safer! He's a scoundrel, but he's a god-tier scoundrel—absolutely essential!"
"That awesome?" Yang Qi was curious. "What kind of person is he?"
Fiona Fang grinned slyly, then suddenly clapped her hands as she remembered something. "Oh, you two have seen his face before!"
"We've seen him?" The two exchanged a look, completely confused. "How could we have seen him?" Not knowing many people is a classic trait of a transmigrator—where would they have met a god-tier scoundrel?
Well, maybe they've met a few scoundrels before, some of them pretty legendary, but none of them had anything to do with the South Wasteland—like the Four Flirtatious Rogues. Speaking of those guys, who knows what they're up to now. Have they met the two princesses yet? Has the Eastern Youth proven himself? Or, knowing their luck, maybe they've already gotten their butts kicked...
As Yang Qi was thinking this, he had no idea that, thousands of miles away in some palace, something truly awful was happening. "Aaaah—!" A long scream echoed through the empty halls, enough to make your ears hurt. In short, it was all thanks to a certain princess with a fire in her heart. We'll get back to those details later—for now, let's return to the South Wasteland.
Most of the group stayed behind to watch the vehicles, while Fiona Fang led a few elites into a narrow alleyway that cars couldn't possibly fit through. They twisted and turned through the maze of buildings, just like wandering through a labyrinth. Before long, Fiona Fang raised her hand to stop everyone. She pointed ahead, lowering her voice like a commando, "The person we're looking for is right there, but he's... um, slippery. So don't let your guard down! Surround the house and stay sharp—go!"
The view shifted inside. In the innermost part of the little courtyard, a hunched old man was dozing in a room so cluttered you could barely find a spot to stand. He sat in a big recliner, legs propped up on a huge table, but he himself was a tiny, skinny, dried-up old fellow. He snored softly, but then his ears twitched and he suddenly sat up, tense.
Turns out, his eyes were pure white—no pupils at all. He was blind. He listened closely, then jumped up and started spinning around anxiously, blurting out in a weird accent, "Oh no, oh no! Just sent off a bunch of big demons, and now a little troublemaker shows up! Can't stay here, nope, gotta run!"
Just as he was muttering, Fiona Fang's voice rang out, "Old man, I'm here for you! I know you're in there, I spotted your secret mark. This time, don't even think about running!"
"Not running would be crazy! If I don't run, you'll be the death of me!" The old man didn't care about staying hidden and shouted back, grabbing a few scraps and getting ready to bolt. Even in the mess, he moved fast and sure-footed.
Whoosh—he pulled a lever, and a window appeared in the wall. The old man tried to climb out, but—
"No exit here." Outside the window, Wen Hanlong replied lazily.
"Oh, come on! I'll try again!" Whoosh—he pulled another lever, and a window appeared on the opposite wall, but—
"Get back inside!" Outside was Fang Hailong's icy face.
"Are you trying to kill me? One more try!" The old man suddenly leapt into the air, showing surprisingly good lightness skill, and yanked open a hidden panel in the ceiling. It was so well-hidden even Santa wouldn't spot the passage. But—
"Hey, there's a hole up here!" Above the opening, Xiang Xiaolong stuck his face in, grinning wickedly. "My lightness skill isn't great so I was a bit slow, but who would've thought a blind cat could catch a dead mouse—looks like I nabbed you!"
"Oh come on, you all trying to kill me?" The old man slammed the panel shut and dropped back onto his big recliner. Just as he was looking for something, the curtain rustled—Fiona Fang strode in, all smug. "See, old man? I told you, you can't run. Be good and cooperate!"
"No way, not happening!" The old man shook his head like a kid, stubborn as ever. "You wanna catch me? Try again in a hundred years! I still—" Crack! He pulled a lever under the chair, and the whole recliner flipped, dropping him toward a sudden hole in the floor.
But even though he kept shouting, "I still—!" for ages, he never actually fell. He twisted around and realized someone had grabbed his belt, holding him up in midair. Then Yang Qi hoisted him up, head down, and sighed, "Even if you had a secret tunnel hundreds of meters long, even if it was a maze, you still wouldn't get away."
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Yang Qi picked the old man up and looked him over, surprised. "Wait a sec, now that I see you, you do look kinda familiar!"
Standing nearby, Luo Yuxi had the same feeling. After thinking for a moment, both of them suddenly realized, "It's you! The old blind guy?!"
That's right—back during the auction for the Smoker Slave Troupe, Fiona Fang had disguised herself as an old blind man to sneak into the venue. And this old guy right here, with his bumpy skin, milky-white eyeballs, and wrinkled face—he looked exactly the same!
"He's not blind at all—he's faking it!" Fiona Fang revealed the truth right away. "His eyes have always looked like that, but he can see perfectly fine. He's fooled a ton of people—oh, and don't bother tapping the secret switch under the table. That smoke bomb isn't even strong enough to knock out a rabbit!"
"Huh? Haha, you saw right through me..." The old man wasn't embarrassed at all. He plopped back into the big recliner, patted his clothes, and said to Fiona Fang, "Alright, kid, this time you brought enough people and caught me fair and square. But it doesn't count as real business. I know what you want, and my answer is just two words—no way!"
"What did you say?" A cold voice came from Fang Hailong as he stepped into the room. He whipped out his saber and slammed it down on the table, eyes flashing with menace. "I don't have time for your nonsense. Whether there's a way or not, there has to be a way—got it?"
"Kid, when your old man here says no way, I mean no way! What do you know anyway, huh?" The old man picked his nose with total disdain, dug out something gross, and rolled his white eyes at Fang Hailong, as if aiming to flick it at him... Okay, sorry, that joke's been used twice now...
With that leaky accent and those contemptuous white eyes, the old man's taunts really got under people's skin. Fang Hailong's eyes bulged, veins popping on his forehead. "What did you just say?!"
"Chill, chill, put the knife away!" Fiona Fang quickly tried to smooth things over, pulling Fang Hailong back. Then she told the old blind guy, "Old man, quit being stubborn. You see what I'm dealing with here? They're all hotheads. If I wasn't holding them back, you'd be in real trouble! So be smart and help us out, okay?"
"Ugh, bad luck, bad luck. Every time I run into you, nothing good happens. I'd help if it meant you'd leave, I really would! But I bet this time, what you want isn't simple. And honestly, I can't help you now." The old man sighed, looking all worn out. "The last few days, a bunch of people came looking for me, and all my Sand Skiffs got bought out. I'd love to help, but there isn't a single Sand Skiff left in the whole Big Market—nothing I can do!"
Everyone got the gist—even if they didn't know what a 'Sand Skiff' was, it was clearly important, and apparently there was a shortage. Remember how Fiona Fang stopped them from buying camels? This 'Sand Skiff' must be some kind of desert transport. If they're out of stock, that's a big problem.
But Fiona Fang just folded her arms and smirked, totally confident. "Save it, old man. You can fool others, but not me. I know you too well—you always save the good stuff for last! This is a big deal, and we need both your goods and your help. Name your price—how much?"
The old man's bitter face instantly turned into a scheming grin. He leaned in, dramatic villain-shadow and all. "You guys... are you headed to the Holy Mountain?"
Fiona Fang narrowed her eyes. "So what if we are? So what if we're not?"
"If not, I'm not going. But if you are..." The old blind guy rubbed his hands together. "I want a thirty percent cut of any gold and silver we find!"
"Thirty percent?! You're trying to rob us blind! The most you'll get is one percent!"
"One percent? You're even sneakier than me! At least give me two!"
"Two percent? Please, I know plenty of people—I don't have to go through you. Once we hit the next oasis, I can call for help and the place will be packed. Don't get greedy, or you'll end up with nothing!"
Just as it looked like the haggling would never end, Yang Qi cut in. "Alright, enough arguing. Including you, we've got twenty-five people. Let's split it up—one share per person. Everyone pitches in, nobody gets shortchanged. Deal?"
"That works... alright!" The old blind guy nodded. "Kid, we'll do it your way!"
With the deal settled, the old blind guy opened up the passage under the big recliner again and led the way. "Come on, follow me—I'll take you to the Sand Skiffs. Don't dawdle!"
Everyone stayed alert as they headed down into the tunnel. It was pitch black—if they hadn't brought fire sticks, no normal person could've made it through. The old blind guy marched ahead, leading them through twists and turns for ages. Finally, he pushed up a cover, peeked out, and waved them forward. "Come on up, it's right here!"
They all crawled out of the tunnel and, in unison, let out a surprised, "Whoa?!"
"Heh, bet you didn't expect this, city slickers—this is the best and fastest ride in the South Wasteland: Sand Skiffs!" The old blind guy spread his arms wide, looking proud. And right in front of him was—a boat?!
Yep, it didn't look much like a regular boat—it was flatter and simpler. But with that mast, that deck, and those huge sails, everyone blurted out the same complaint: "Sand Skiff? More like sand boat! Where'd you get that accent, you weirdo!"