My Wife is A Sword God

Chapter 8: Leaving the Mansion

The Literature Qi in this book has been absorbed by me for a long time, so why did it suddenly become stronger? Is this related to the fact that I just used the content in the book to treat Dr. Song’s illness?

Wait a minute, I seem to understand now. To absorb the Literature Qi of the book, the first step is to memorize it thoroughly. Then, if I can apply the content of the book in practice, I can attract even more Literature Qi into my body!

Qin Feng was extremely excited about this discovery. He even considered opening a small medical clinic to treat patients. In this way, wouldn’t Literature Qi come in a steady stream?

“Big brother, did you memorize all the books in the library?” Qin An recalled Qin Feng’s state while reading and couldn’t help but ask.

“Heh, what’s so difficult about that? I’ve been studying for more than ten years, without much progress, just proceeding step by step, accumulating knowledge gradually!”

“But big brother, yesterday morning, didn’t you tell me that you wanted to abandon literature for martial arts?”

Cang Fei’s delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly, a hint of displeasure flashing in her light blue eyes.

Qin Feng cleared his throat. “Shallow thinking! You can’t even see my sincere intentions. I did that to help you recall the scene when you first entered the Divine Martial Dao Lineage tradition. I wanted to convey a message — haste makes waste. Don’t forget your original intentions; that’s the way to succeed!”

“I see, big brother, I understand now!”

Feeling his younger brother’s admiring gaze, Qin Feng appeared calm, but he was actually thinking that martial artists were indeed straightforward in their thinking.

“Since I’m not sick, why are you tying me up? Mom, dad, please untie me!”

“Ouch, please slow down and pull out the silver needle first!”

Qin Feng regained his freedom and twisted his wrist. During the process of untying, he also explained his discovery of the Literature Saint Dao Lineage to his family.

Upon hearing this, Second Mother pondered for a moment. “According to what Feng’er said, as long as we can buy more books, Feng’er can absorb the “Literature Qi” from them and enter the ninth rank of the Literature Saint.”

“Old master, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and take out the family’s silver coins to collect books for Feng’er!”

Qin Jian’an’s face twitched, stammering, “Madam, Jin Yang City is a remote small town, not like the imperial capital Heavenly City. Where can I find so many books? Moreover, you know that some time ago, the demonic forces invaded the city, and they haven’t been found yet. Ordinary people rarely go out now; our Moonlit Pavilion barely has any business. Even An’er’s medicated bath and Blood Qi Pill, we can hardly afford it..”

After listening to his father’s long explanation, Qin Feng summed it up simply – no money.

“Dad, mom, I’ve already reached a bottleneck in the seventh rank of the Breath Condensing realm. I won’t need medicine baths and Qi-enhancing elixirs for a short time. You should use the money to buy books for big brother instead.”

Upon hearing this, everyone looked at Qin An simultaneously.

Qin Feng clutched his chest, feeling guilty for ever suspecting that his brother wanted to kill him. He couldn’t help but feel remorseful.

“There’s no need for that. Although Moonlit Pavilion hasn’t been doing well recently, I’ve thought of a way to make a fortune. When the time comes…”

Before he could finish his sentence, everyone hurriedly interrupted him.

“Master, the household is short of money lately. Please don’t waste any more silver coins.”

“Dad, it’s better to save the money and buy books for big brother.”

“Dad, you really aren’t cut out for business. Have some self-awareness.”

Qin Jian’an became furious, his face red and his voice coarse. “You don’t understand! Business relies on the right timing, location, and people. My previous losses were simply due to bad luck!”

Second Mother ignored him, rolling her eyes.

Qin An sighed, looking down at his toes.

Sure enough, making money still depends on me, the Transmigrator. Qin Feng shook his head. When he was thinking about where to start, Cang Feilan, who had been ignored in the house, spoke.

“If you just want to read books, I do know a place. However, getting inside won’t be easy. You can come with me and give it a try.”

Qin Feng followed Cang Feilan out of the Qin mansion. It was his first time going out since he transmigrated.

“It’s a good opportunity to see the environment in Jinyang City and assess the purchasing power of the people here.”

You see, business depends on intelligence!

If you do it like Dad, taking food to a fishing village where they don’t lack food, you’ll be damned if you can make money!

At this moment, nearing noon, the streets were bustling with people. The hawkers’ shouts on both sides of the street were similar to the scenes he had seen in the painting “Along the River During the Qingming Festival”* in his previous life.

Qin Feng carefully observed his surroundings, intending to find future business opportunities. However, his line of sight would unintentionally be drawn towards the beautiful women in front of him.

Oh, someone is selling coal there. After all, the weather is getting colder. But that coal is exceptionally white.

Oh, are these the green onion pancakes sold in ancient times? They look really delicious.

There’s even stinky tofu. It smells so good.

And those legs…

Smack!

Qin Feng immediately slapped himself.

“What’s wrong?” Cang Feilan, who heard the noise, turned her head. Her pair of light blue eyes remained captivating no matter how many times one looked at them.

Calm down, I need to stay calm. After all, in my previous life, I was a racing god in the mountains. I’ve seen much bigger storms; I must remain calm!

“There were mosquitoes.”

“It’s almost November, and there are still mosquitoes. Quite surprising,” Cang Feilan said casually.

“Who said it isn’t?” Qin Feng cleared his throat and found his gaze involuntarily following the swinging motion of those long legs.

Just then, not far ahead, a rooster crowed. Qin Feng looked in the direction of the sound and suddenly froze.

An elegant pavilion, a group of chirping swallows, leaning against the railing, watching the passing pedestrians with smiles.

Several sharp-eyed and charming young ladies caught sight of Qin Feng and immediately waved their embroidered handkerchiefs, sweetly calling out, “Young Master, it’s freezing cold, why not come in and sit for a while?”

This is broad daylight; how indecent!

Qin Feng subconsciously touched his waist pouch. Then, he let out a heavy sigh. Where would he get a money pouch?

Even if he had one, he definitely wouldn’t go. After all, he hadn’t reached the seventh rank yet!

The belief in making money and advancing in cultivation suddenly became incredibly strong at this moment. Indeed, desire was the most powerful driving force for human progress.

Cang Feilan continued walking, and the distance between the two of them increased. Seeing this, Qin Feng hurriedly caught up.

The charming young ladies intensified their calls as the handsome young master approached. Naturally, they preferred to entertain such a gallant young man.

However, at this moment, Cang Feilan suddenly looked up, her light blue eyes shimmering.

The girls upstairs suddenly felt a chill down their spines. Their voices got stuck in their throats, and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t make a sound.

It wasn’t until Cang Feilan and Qin Feng walked further away that they recovered. This was the first time they had encountered something so strange.

Qin Feng followed Cang Feilan closely and passed through seven or eight alleys, arriving in front of a redwood pavilion.

A plaque hung above the pavilion door, inscribed with three large characters — “Listen to Rain Pavilion!”

“This is the place,” Cang Feilan stopped, her eyes narrowed slightly.

*Along the River During the Qingming Festival is a handscroll painting by the Song dynasty painter Zhang Zeduan. It captures the daily life of people and the landscape of the capital, Bianjing during the Northern Song.