The Jade Market opened at dawn, though Xu Jun arrived a full hour before the first merchants began setting up their stalls.
The sky was still dark, that deep indigo that preceded true sunrise, stars fading as the eastern horizon began its gradual shift from black to deep purple. The city was quiet at this hour, most of its inhabitants still sleeping, only the earliest workers stirring—bakers firing their ovens, night soil collectors making their rounds, prostitutes returning home after long nights, and the occasional cultivator completing dawn meditation sessions.
Xu Jun positioned himself in the shadow of a teahouse that wouldn't open for another three hours, his presence negated so thoroughly that even the stray dogs sleeping in nearby doorways failed to acknowledge his existence. From this vantage point, he could observe the market square as it transformed from empty space to bustling commercial center.
The market occupied a large square in the eastern quarter of the city, perhaps two hundred paces on each side, its boundaries marked by ancient stone pillars carved with protective formations that had long since faded to little more than decorative etchings. The formations had probably been functional once, centuries ago when this square had been established, but time and neglect had eroded their power until only the faintest traces of energy remained, insufficient to protect against anything more threatening than minor vermin.
In the pre-dawn darkness, the square was nearly empty save for a few early workers hauling wooden frames and canvas awnings from storage buildings at the square's edges. These were the market porters, men who made their living setting up and breaking down stalls for merchants who paid them copper coins for the labor. Their movements were routine, practiced, the choreography of people who had performed this same task thousands of times and would perform it thousands more—lift the frame, carry it to the designated spot, slot the pieces together, secure the joints, move to the next one.
Xu Jun watched them work with the detached interest of someone cataloguing mechanical processes. Each porter had their own section of the market, their own regular merchants who employed them, their own established patterns of movement. The organization was informal but clearly understood by all participants, a system maintained through custom rather than regulation.
As the sky continued to lighten, transitioning through shades of purple and pink toward the pale blue of morning, more workers arrived. Canvas sellers brought rolls of fabric for awnings, their carts creaking under the weight. Carpenters arrived to make repairs to damaged stalls, their toolboxes jingling with metal implements. A water seller positioned his cart at the market's center, ready to provide refreshment to merchants and customers throughout the day.
The largest and most prominent stall positions—those at the square's center and along the main thoroughfare that bisected it—went to established merchants whose spaces were claimed through years of presence and hefty fees paid to the market authority. These merchants arrived in comfortable wagons, their success evident in the quality of their clothing and the number of servants who accompanied them. They supervised the setup with lazy confidence, knowing their positions were secure, occasionally calling out corrections but rarely performing physical labor themselves.
Smaller traders had to compete for the remaining spaces, arriving earlier each day in an unspoken race that began well before dawn. Xu Jun observed two merchants nearly come to blows over a disputed corner position before a market official intervened, checking a ledger and declaring in favor of the merchant who'd paid the previous week for priority placement. The loser accepted the judgment with ill grace but moved to a less desirable location without further protest.
A hierarchy even in the allocation of temporary selling space. Predictable. Human nature expressing itself through commerce, establishing pecking orders and status displays even in the most mundane contexts.
As the sky brightened and dawn arrived properly, the trickle of merchants became a flood. Wagons and carts and porters carrying goods on their backs converged on the square from every direction, transforming it from empty space to dense commercial center within the span of perhaps an hour.
The variety of goods was impressive, speaking to the city's role as a major trading hub where multiple economic regions intersected. Textiles from the southern silk farms, their fabrics shimmering with subtle iridescence that suggested spirit-thread weaving. Metalwork from the mountain forges, everything from farming implements to ceremonial weapons. Preserved foods from the fertile plains—salted meats, pickled vegetables, dried fruits, grain in sealed containers. Cultivation pills of varying quality, their containers marked with seals that supposedly guaranteed authenticity but which Xu Jun suspected were frequently counterfeit.
Spirit stones of multiple grades occupied an entire section of the market, merchants displaying them on velvet cushions like precious jewelry. Some were genuine—Xu Jun could sense the energy they contained, feel the way they resonated with ambient cultivation power. Others were depleted stones being sold to ignorant buyers, or even common crystals given a superficial treatment to mimic the appearance of genuine spirit stones. The fraud was sophisticated enough to fool casual inspection but wouldn't survive scrutiny from anyone with real expertise.
Talismans and formation plates covered multiple stalls, ranging from simple good luck charms that were pure superstition to genuine defensive arrays that might actually protect their owners from low-level threats. The quality varied wildly, and Xu Jun noted that even the legitimate items showed signs of mass production—identical formation patterns, standardized materials, the spiritual equivalent of factory goods rather than master craftsmanship.
Weapons occupied another section: swords, spears, bows, staffs, each one claiming to be suitable for cultivation enhancement. Most were crude iron barely fit for practice, though a few showed genuine quality in their forging and the formation patterns etched into their blades. Those commanded premium prices, often negotiated in private rather than displayed openly.
Among all this commercial chaos, Xu Jun had already identified his primary target through careful observation of the previous day's reconnaissance: Boss Zhang's operation.
Zhang Wei—called Boss Zhang by everyone in the market—ran a mid-tier operation dealing primarily in specialty materials: rare woods for formation construction, unusual minerals with cultivation properties, occasionally more exotic items acquired through channels he didn't advertise openly. His stall occupied a respectable position near the jade dealers, which lent his business an air of legitimacy by association, though Xu Jun suspected the proximity was deliberate positioning rather than genuine connection to the jade trade.
Boss Zhang himself was exactly as Xu Jun had assessed during yesterday's preliminary observations: a corpulent man in his mid-fifties who had clearly enjoyed many successful years of profitable trading. His success showed in the quality of his silk robes—expensive but not ostentatious, the clothing of someone who had money but didn't need to flaunt it. Several jade rings adorned his fingers, genuine pieces rather than the fake jade that poorer merchants wore to project wealth they didn't possess.
His face was round and perpetually flushed, whether from good living or high blood pressure Xu Jun neither knew nor cared. What mattered was his demeanor: the lazy confidence of someone who knew his business and his place in it, who had learned over decades to identify opportunities and dangers with practiced efficiency.
Zhang was directing two servants in arranging his goods for display when Xu Jun began his approach, timing it carefully. Too early and the merchant would be distracted by setup logistics, unable to give proper attention to a potential business opportunity. Too late and other buyers might already be engaging him in negotiation, creating competition for his attention. The optimal moment was when setup had just completed but before the main customer traffic arrived—when his mind was focused on the day's potential profits and most receptive to interesting opportunities.
Xu Jun waited patiently, observing from his position at a neighboring stall where he pretended to examine bronze mirrors, until Zhang finished instructing his servants and stepped back to survey his display with evident satisfaction.
Then, and only then, did Xu Jun approach.
He moved with the casual confidence of someone who belonged in the market, just another buyer among hundreds, nothing remarkable or memorable about his appearance or bearing. When he reached Zhang's stall, he paused at the edge of the display area, examining the goods with apparent interest but not immediately engaging the merchant—the behavior of a serious buyer rather than a casual browser.
Zhang noticed him within moments, his merchant's instincts alert to anyone who showed genuine interest rather than idle curiosity. His professional smile appeared instantly, warm and welcoming without being obsequious, the expression of someone who'd perfected the art of making potential customers feel valued without seeming desperate for their business.
"Good morning, friend," Zhang said, his voice carrying the practiced enthusiasm of someone who'd made this greeting ten thousand times. "You're early to the market. Looking for something specific, or simply browsing to see what catches your eye?"
"Possibly something specific," Xu Jun replied, his tone carefully calibrated to suggest serious interest without revealing too much. "I'm looking for someone who can source unusual items. Materials that aren't typically found in standard markets. Items that might require... discretion and specialized contacts to acquire."
The phrasing was deliberate, each word chosen to convey specific implications. 'Unusual items' suggested he wasn't interested in common goods. 'Discretion' implied transactions that might not bear close scrutiny from authorities. 'Specialized contacts' indicated he understood that some goods moved through grey or black markets rather than official channels.
Zhang's eyes sharpened with interest, his posture shifting from casual greeting to genuine attention. The shift was subtle but unmistakable—shoulders squaring slightly, weight redistributing, focus intensifying. This was a merchant who recognized opportunity when he heard it.
"Oh?" He set down the piece of jade he'd been examining, giving Xu Jun his full focus now. "What kind of unusual items are we discussing? And more importantly, are you looking to buy... or sell?"
The pause before 'sell' carried significance. Buyers were common, their needs predictable. Sellers with unusual goods were far more interesting—they represented profit opportunities rather than expenses, the chance to acquire valuable items at negotiated prices and resell them at substantial markup.
"I'm selling," Xu Jun confirmed, watching Zhang's expression carefully. As expected, the merchant's interest intensified further, though he maintained enough professional control to avoid showing excessive eagerness that might hurt his negotiating position.
"I see. And what exactly are you offering?"
Xu Jun reached into his robe with deliberate slowness, the movement calculated to build anticipation and focus Zhang's attention completely on whatever he was about to reveal. He produced a small object wrapped in black silk cloth and began unwrapping it with methodical care, each fold of fabric revealing a bit more of what lay within, drawing out the moment.
When he finally revealed the crystal, the effect was immediate and exactly as he'd calculated.
The crystal was no larger than a child's fist, but it immediately drew the eye in a way that ordinary objects never could. It caught the morning light and seemed to absorb it, drinking in illumination and giving nothing back, creating a strange effect where the space immediately around it appeared slightly darker than it should. The phenomenon was subtle but unmistakable, and anyone with even basic knowledge of rare materials would recognize what it signified.
A void crystal. Genuine—or at least, appearing genuine to anyone without the ability to sense the temporary nature of its construction.
Zhang's breath caught audibly, a small sound that he immediately tried to suppress but which Xu Jun noted with satisfaction. The merchant's hand reached out automatically before he caught himself, remembering professional protocol and the fact that touching goods without permission was both rude and potentially dangerous if the item had protective formations.
"A void crystal," Zhang breathed, his voice carrying genuine awe mixed with commercial calculation. "Where did you— That is..." He stopped himself mid-question, professional caution overriding curiosity. Asking too many questions about provenance could complicate transactions, especially when dealing with items that might have unclear ownership histories. "May I examine it more closely?"
"Of course." Xu Jun handed it over with the casual confidence of someone who knew exactly what he possessed and its value, showing no nervousness or eagerness that might suggest desperation to sell.
Zhang took the crystal with reverent care, holding it up to catch the strengthening morning light, turning it slowly to examine it from multiple angles. His breathing had quickened slightly—excitement poorly suppressed—and Xu Jun could practically see the calculations running behind his eyes. Purchase price versus resale value, potential buyers, profit margins, the logistics of moving such a valuable item quickly and quietly.
What Zhang couldn't detect, what even most cultivation experts wouldn't immediately notice without very careful examination, was that the crystal had been created less than two hours ago in Xu Jun's room at the Tranquil Lotus Inn.
The process had been simple: take a common river stone of appropriate size and density. Negate its fundamental properties as mundane mineral. Replace those properties with the precise signature characteristics of void essence—the rare substance formed in regions where reality itself grew thin and the boundary between existence and non-existence became permeable. The light-absorption effect. The subtle reality-warping field. The energy signature that cultivation experts would recognize as genuine.
The transformation was temporary, of course. The negation would maintain the crystal's false properties for approximately seventy-two hours before degrading, at which point the stone would reassert its true nature and revert to being exactly what it had always been—worthless river rock. But seventy-two hours was more than enough time for Xu Jun's purposes. By the time Zhang discovered the deception, if he ever did, the trail would be cold and Chen Wu would be just another vanished merchant among thousands who passed through the city annually.
"Exceptional quality," Zhang murmured, his merchant's facade cracking enough to show genuine excitement. "The formation is perfect, no fractures or impurities that I can detect. Where did you acquire this? If you don't mind my asking."
The question was carefully phrased—not demanding an answer, but clearly hoping for information that might indicate whether more such items might be available or whether this was a unique opportunity.
"An old inheritance," Xu Jun said smoothly, the lie flowing as naturally as truth, delivered with just the right mixture of casualness and slight reluctance that suggested he was being more forthcoming than he was comfortable with. "Family tomb that was only recently accessible due to the collapse of an old formation that had sealed it for generations. I have three more of similar quality. I'm looking to sell them quickly and quietly."
He let the implications of 'quickly and quietly' speak for themselves. Either he'd acquired them through questionable means and wanted to convert them to less traceable currency, or he needed money urgently and couldn't wait for optimal pricing through normal channels. Either scenario would make Zhang believe he had leverage to negotiate a better deal, which would actually make him more comfortable with the transaction and less likely to ask problematic questions.
Zhang's mind was clearly racing through possibilities, his fingers unconsciously caressing the crystal as he thought. Void crystals of this quality could fetch fifty gold coins each from the right buyer—cultivation sects needed them for specific advancement techniques, formation masters used them in powerful arrays, alchemists could extract their essence for specialized pills. If he could acquire all four for a reasonable price and then sell them at market rates...
The profit potential was substantial. Substantial enough to make him willing to overlook any concerns about provenance or the seller's motives.
"I could offer one hundred and twenty gold for all four," Zhang said, his tone carefully calculated to sound like a firm opening bid while leaving room for negotiation. It was deliberately low—probably half of what he expected to make on resale—testing to see how desperate or ignorant the seller might be.
Xu Jun let silence stretch for exactly three seconds, long enough to suggest he was genuinely considering the offer and perhaps disappointed by its size, but not so long as to seem like theatrical hesitation. He let a trace of resignation color his expression, the look of someone who'd hoped for better but recognized the reality of their position.
"That's... lower than I'd hoped for items of this caliber," he said, maintaining his reluctant tone. "But I need liquidity quickly. One hundred and forty gold."
The counter-offer was calculated to suggest he was negotiating from mild desperation rather than strength, willing to come down from some higher imagined price but not quite ready to accept Zhang's initial offer. It positioned him as a seller who needed money but wasn't completely without standards or knowledge of value.
"One hundred and thirty," Zhang responded immediately, the speed of his counter-offer revealing his eagerness despite attempts to maintain professional detachment. "Final offer. Cash payment, right now if you can deliver all four crystals within the next two hours."
The shortened timeline and cash payment offer were hooks—creating urgency and appealing to Xu Jun's stated need for quick transaction. Zhang was showing his hand slightly, revealing that he wanted these crystals badly enough to go close to his upper limit without prolonged haggling.
Another calculated pause, this one slightly longer, as if wrestling with a difficult decision. In truth, Xu Jun would have accepted any price above zero—the crystals had cost him nothing but a few moments of concentration to create. But appearing too eager would raise suspicion. Sellers who accepted first offers without negotiation were either desperate fools or running scams, and Zhang was experienced enough to recognize both types.
"Done," Xu Jun said finally, letting his posture relax slightly as if he'd made a difficult compromise and was relieved to have the negotiation concluded. "But I'll need to retrieve the other three from my lodging. They're too valuable to carry around the market openly. Meet me at..." He paused as if considering appropriate locations. "The Golden Prosperity Merchant House. Two hours past noon. Bring the gold, and I'll have all four crystals."
The Golden Prosperity was Zhang's business headquarters—Xu Jun had learned this during yesterday's reconnaissance. Suggesting it showed he'd done basic research about Zhang's operation while also indicating trust by agreeing to meet on the merchant's own territory.
"Excellent. Yes, my office at Golden Prosperity, two hours past noon." Zhang was already calculating profits, barely able to contain his satisfaction at what he clearly believed was an excellent deal. He produced a small card from his robes. "Here's my business seal, in case the guards at the entrance give you any trouble. Just show them this and tell them you have an appointment with me."
They shook hands, sealing the agreement in the traditional manner. Zhang's grip was firm and slightly sweaty with excitement-induced perspiration. His palm was warm, slightly damp, betraying the enthusiasm he tried to project as professional calm. Xu Jun's hand by contrast was cool and dry, conveying nothing but businesslike efficiency.
Transaction probability: 96.3% successful completion. Zhang's greed sufficiently engaged to override any potential caution. He won't examine the crystals with excessive scrutiny before attempting resale—his focus will be on profit margin rather than authenticity verification beyond surface inspection. By the time the crystals revert to ordinary stones, transaction trail will be sufficiently obscured and attribution to original seller nearly impossible.
As Xu Jun walked away from the stall, moving back into the growing crowd of early morning shoppers, he allowed himself the smallest adjustment of his expression—not quite a smile, but the closest approximation his face could manage. A microscopic upturn at the corners of his mouth that would be invisible to anyone not studying him intently.
One hundred and thirty gold coins for stones pulled from a river. More than enough to establish his initial economic base and begin actual operations.
But more valuable than the money was what he'd just created: a relationship with a merchant who would now be favorably disposed toward future dealings, having made what he believed was excellent profit on their first transaction. Zhang would remember Chen Wu as a reliable source of valuable goods, someone worth maintaining contact with, possibly someone to recommend to other merchants looking for unusual items.
Well. A reliable source for approximately seventy-two hours, at least. After that, Zhang would have some very uncomfortable conversations with whatever buyer he'd sold the crystals to.
But by then, the trail would be cold. Chen Wu would just be another merchant among hundreds in the city, with no obvious connection to the fraud beyond Zhang's own records of a transaction that no one else had witnessed.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Xu Jun spent the next three hours moving methodically through the market, not just browsing but actively cataloguing every detail that might prove useful for future operations. The market was a microcosm of the city's economy, and understanding it meant understanding how commerce flowed, where money went, who held power through trade rather than cultivation or political office.
He noted the weapon smith whose stall was positioned suspiciously close to the Crimson Path Sect's compound and whose customers included several sect disciples—a connection worth remembering. He observed the tea seller whose shop seemed to attract an unusual number of visitors who spent very little time actually drinking tea, suggesting the establishment served as a front for other business, possibly information brokering. He catalogued the formation master who worked as a consultant for various merchants needing protection arrays, his expertise clear from the quality of defensive talismans he sold as a sideline.
Each observation was filed away, each contact mentally noted for potential future exploitation. An information network couldn't be built in a day, but it could be started in one, the foundation laid that would support everything that came after.
By midday, the market had reached its peak activity, the square packed with people engaged in the eternal human ritual of buying and selling. The noise was tremendous—vendors calling out their wares, customers haggling over prices, children running between stalls, animals protesting their treatment, the general cacophony of commerce conducted at full volume.
Xu Jun extracted himself from the crowd and made his way back toward the Tranquil Lotus Inn, timing his departure to give himself adequate time to create three more void crystals before his appointment with Boss Zhang.
The process would be quick—he'd perfected the technique over centuries of similar deceptions, the negation patterns burned into his consciousness like muscle memory. Find three more river stones of appropriate size. Negate their mundane properties. Impose void characteristics. Establish the seventy-two-hour binding. Refine the details to ensure each crystal appeared unique rather than manufactured.
Ten minutes per crystal, perhaps. Half an hour total. Then retrieve them from his room, make his way to the Golden Prosperity Merchant House, complete the transaction, receive his payment, and officially establish himself as a merchant with capital and connections.
Phase one of integration: nearly complete.
As he walked through the midday streets, Xu Jun reflected on the elegant efficiency of his approach. He could have stolen the capital he needed—his abilities would have made it trivial to bypass locks, formations, guards, any physical security measure the city employed. But theft left trails, triggered investigations, created instability that could ripple outward in unpredictable ways.
Fraud, by contrast, was self-concealing. Zhang would eventually discover he'd been cheated, but he'd also be incentivized to hide that fact rather than advertise it. Admitting he'd been fooled badly enough to resell fake void crystals would damage his reputation far more than quietly absorbing the loss. He might hunt for the mysterious Chen Wu, but that hunt would be private, conducted through criminal channels rather than official authorities.
And by then, Chen Wu would have established enough legitimate presence that investigating him would require evidence no one possessed.
That was the beauty of it. The crime would punish itself through the victim's own desire to avoid embarrassment.
Xu Jun had played this game thousands of times across thousands of cities. The details changed but the fundamentals remained constant: people were predictable. Greed could be exploited. Everyone had something they wanted badly enough to take risks. Find that want, offer it, extract value, vanish into the crowd before consequences caught up.
Fifteen centuries of practice had made him very, very good at it.
The void endured. The void adapted. The void consumed opportunity and excreted advantage.
And today, the void wearing the name Chen Wu had successfully taken his first step toward establishing complete control over his environment.
One small transaction at a time. One relationship cultivated. One deception executed flawlessly.
Until the entire city became his web, every strand leading back to him, every vibration signaling opportunity.
Patient. Methodical. Inevitable.
The game continued.