At this moment, snow began to drift again in the Daoist temple, sketching out four characters on the ground—'Credit Allowed.'
"No more credit, no more credit."
Zhou Xuan hurriedly waved his hand and strode out of the Secret Realm.
"Good heavens, nine sticks of incense, if I took credit, leaving aside whether I could handle the nine sticks, where in this vast Jing Country could one find a nine-stick incense?"
Zhou Xuan's mind returned to reality, staring at the deep and eerie shop, and after a moment, he glanced again at the black-on-white 'Double Happiness' character, muttering,
"There's surely a reason why the Blood Well offers the price of nine sticks of incense. Why is one soul worth nine sticks? Just because he was the Great Saint of the human literary world when he was alive?
Wasn't that Literary Saint's fate taken by the West Valley True Monarch? He isn't even a Literary Saint."
