Under Gu Yingbai’s introduction, Ye Yu learned many unspoken rules of Balance City.
For example, though the city’s stalls seemed scattered at random, they were actually arranged in four sectors: east, west, south, and north.
The east sector was for trading divine artifacts.
The west sector dealt in divine arts.
The south sector sold information.
As for the north sector, it was for custom contracts—like posting bounty quests. You propose what you want done and set the price; anyone willing and able who finds the price fair will accept. It resembled the task halls of certain Immortal Gates.
Only those who frequented Balance City long-term would know these rules. Of course, some gods ignored them. If you saw a divine art stall in the east sector, it proved the stallholder was a scammer ready to fleece customers.
Knowing this, Ye Yu didn’t comment immediately. Instead, he strolled through the city and found everything exactly as Gu Yingbai had described. Thus, the two thousand divine stones weren’t wasted—guides did have value!
Soon Gu Yingbai led Ye Yu to the west sector. In the furthest corner they found a drunken old man reeking of wine.
Gu Yingbai introduced him: “This is Su Tian, the God of Wine. Don’t say he drinks daily—strictly speaking, he’s never not drinking.”
No one knew where Su Tian came from, but he possessed many divine arts. Their tiers weren’t topmost, but their categories were complete. If you wanted to trade divine arts for divine arts, he was the best choice.
After the introduction, Ye Yu stepped forward and placed a wine jar before Su Tian. “Senior, this is fine wine I brought from the Underworld. It may not rival divine wine, but its taste is quite good!” He then flipped open the jar’s lid. Instantly the aroma of wine filled the air.
Su Tian’s glazed expression cleared; he grabbed the jar and drank deeply. Within moments the jar was empty. He belched contentedly, his eyes returning to that drunken haze. He raised a hand and said “Boy, you’re perceptive and generous. Tell you what—since I didn’t drink this for free, whatever you want, I’ll give you a discount. How about that?”
Ye Yu glanced down at the empty blue cloth before Su Tian and—though curious—trusted Gu Yingbai’s advice. He retrieved the four divine art jade slips. “I have four divine arts I wish to trade for four divine arts suited to me.”
Su Tian sat up straight and examined the jade slips. “Kid, let me remind you: these arts are all low-tier. That one, Vow to Pursue Souls, is rarer still—but alone, you won’t get much in exchange.”
Ye Yu frowned. He didn’t understand the tiers of divine arts in the Divine Realm, so he couldn’t tell if Su Tian spoke truth or was lowballing him.
Su Tian laughed. “Enough—tell me, what ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ arts suit you? I’ll pick two for you. If you feel cheated, we can test them on the Balance Scale—it can’t lie!”
At that moment Gu Yingbai telepathically reminded Ye Yu: “Indeed, if you’re uneasy, there’s the Balance Scale test. But it costs another eight hundred divine stones per test.”
Ye Yu raised an eyebrow. Even the Artifact Balance charged a fee? Tsk tsk—just how short of funds was this Ancient God?
But he didn’t overthink it. Instead, he decisively stated his preferences.
Su Tian’s expression shifted, then he burst out laughing. Ye Yu, curious, asked “What’s so funny? Is there a problem?”
“You’re no ordinary mortal, or you wouldn’t choose Negative Emotion as your preferred art.” Su Tian laughed as he produced another jar of wine and began drinking again.
Ye Yu grimaced inwardly. Children talk of good and evil; adults only weigh pros and cons. Who defines “ordinary mortal”? What standard applies? And this old drunk starts by claiming Ye Yu isn’t ordinary—how presumptuous!
Just as Ye Yu prepared to retort, Su Tian tossed a jade slip from his storage ring. “This is Hell of Fear—a good tier. To trade your four jade slips for this, you also need to add one jar of that Underworld wine. I’ll place it on the Balance Scale for an hour’s appraisal. After that hour, tell me if you wish to trade. I’ll... I’ll nap first...”
Before he finished, Su Tian collapsed and began snoring loudly.
Staring at the jade slip in his hand, Ye Yu felt more than a little surprised. Honestly, the name alone made the art appealing—but the old drunk casually gave it away. Was he not afraid Ye Yu might abscond with it?
Ye Yu glanced at Gu Yingbai, who quickly transmitted telepathically: “Senior, I won’t ask what you intend, nor do I wish to know. But note: Su Tian has been here long enough that people have stolen from him. That speaks volumes. So think carefully before acting.”
Hearing this, Ye Yu nodded. He would not simply grab and run—that was beneath him. Even if he wanted to teach gods a lesson, he would earn it through effort and performance, not unearned gains. Besides, it seemed dangerous.
He decided to rouse Su Tian and discuss the trade details. But the old man really had drunk himself under the table—no matter how Ye Yu called, his eyes wouldn’t open.
Ye Yu hatched a plan and softly said “Your wine’s been stolen!”
Those words seemed like a switch: Su Tian shot upright and cried “Who—who stole my wine?”
In that moment, a very long series of digits appeared above his head:
“220,000,000!”
At the sight of this amount, Ye Yu’s expression grew grave.
