Chapter 37: The Rusted Dagger

The cool night air was crisp as Feng Yan walked through the city streets, her mind still occupied by the events of the evening. The tension from the Feng family dinner was finally starting to dissipate, leaving her in a calmer, more reflective state. She found solace in the simple act of strolling, the weight of her rebirth and the decisions she had made thus far easing with each step.

As she turned a corner, her attention was suddenly drawn to a bustling night market up ahead. The vibrant energy of the place pulled her in almost magnetically, and without even thinking, Feng Yan found herself walking toward the crowd. The market was alive with activity—people bargaining, chatting, and moving through the maze of stalls. The air was thick with the scents of various street foods, herbs, and the tang of old, forgotten things.

Curiosity piqued, she decided to explore.

The night market was unlike anything she had seen before. It wasn't filled with ordinary shops or food vendors, but stalls that sold rare and unusual items—antiques, strange artifacts, old books, and even talismans. Some stalls were covered in talismans of protection, while others displayed strange, glowing stones that promised all sorts of mystical properties. Some vendors offered divination services, their tables lined with crystal balls, tarot cards, and ancient-looking runes. It felt like she had stepped into a different world, one that existed in the shadows of everyday life.

Feng Yan wandered from stall to stall, intrigued by the variety of goods on display. She couldn't help but notice how many of the items seemed too rare, too unique to be sold in a common market. Why aren't these things being auctioned instead? she wondered. Some of the objects looked so ancient and valuable that they should've been displayed in museums or sold to the highest bidder at prestigious auctions.

Her eyes narrowed as she moved through the stalls, her sharp instincts kicking in. Not everything here is what it seems, she realized. Her sharp eyes scanned the items on display. There were stalls offering divinations, talismans, and ancient artifacts. Some of the things she saw were clearly fake, meant to fool naive buyers, but others gave off a subtle aura of authenticity. Feng Yan couldn't help but wonder why these items, if they were truly valuable, weren't being sold at auctions where they could fetch far higher prices.

She continued her exploration, carefully examining the stalls she passed by. Some of the items were fascinating, but nothing truly caught her attention. That was, until she reached a particular stall toward the back of the market.

The moment she approached, something changed. There was a subtle pull—like an invisible string tied to her heart. Her breath hitched for a moment, and she paused, feeling the odd sensation. It was as if something was calling out to her, drawing her toward the stall. Feng Yan tried to shake it off, but the feeling only grew stronger. Her feet moved almost of their own accord, leading her to the source of the pull. She couldn't help but feel that if she walked away now, she would leave behind something incredibly important—something that was meant for her.

When she reached the stall, she saw what had been pulling her in. It wasn't some grand treasure or sparkling artifact. Instead, it was a small, rusted dagger, lying on the worn fabric of the vendor's table. The dagger was unremarkable at first glance. Its sheath was old and rusted, the metal so tarnished that it looked like it might crumble to dust if touched. The hilt was wrapped in what appeared to be faded, frayed leather, and the blade itself—what little of it was visible—was dark with age, nearly black in some places.

Despite its dilapidated appearance, Feng Yan couldn't tear her eyes away from it. There was something about the dagger that was... compelling. It wasn't just a rusted piece of metal—it felt alive, as though it was waiting for her to claim it.

The vendor, a young man with sharp eyes and an opportunistic smile, noticed her interest immediately. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with the promise of a sale.

"Ah, I see you have a good eye," he said, his voice slick like oil. "This is a very special antique. Quite rare. It's said to be from an ancient dynasty, a relic of the past. You won't find anything like this anywhere else."

Feng Yan narrowed her eyes slightly, her sharp instincts sensing the greed behind his words. He clearly didn't know the true nature of the dagger—he only saw it as a worthless, broken artifact he could offload onto an unsuspecting customer. But Feng Yan wasn't just any customer. She could feel the energy radiating from the dagger, even if it was faint and buried beneath layers of rust. This wasn't just some old relic; there was something far more significant about it.

She decided to play along, masking her interest as indifference.

"Looks like a piece of junk," she said flatly, her tone dismissive. "The rust alone makes it worthless. How much are you asking for this... thing?"

The vendor's smile faltered for a brief moment before he quickly recovered.

"Junk? No, no, miss, you misunderstand. This is a priceless artifact," he insisted, though the greed in his eyes betrayed his true intentions. "I'll sell it to you for a mere 500 yuan. A steal, really."

Feng Yan raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest. "500 yuan? For this rusted piece of metal?" She scoffed and turned away, pretending to lose interest.

As expected, the vendor panicked, realizing he might lose a sale. He quickly called out after her.

"Wait, wait! I can give you a discount. 200 yuan—how about that? You won't find a better deal anywhere else."

Feng Yan paused, glancing back at him. She could see the desperation in his eyes now. Clearly, he didn't value the dagger and was just trying to get rid of it before it broke completely. She knew better. The pull in her chest was even stronger now, and she couldn't leave without it.

"200 yuan," she repeated slowly, as though considering it. After a long pause, she nodded. "Fine. I'll take it."

The vendor visibly relaxed, clearly pleased to have gotten rid of what he thought was a worthless object. He quickly wrapped the dagger in an old piece of cloth and handed it over to her, pocketing the money with a satisfied grin.

As soon as the dagger was in Feng Yan's hands, she felt the pull even more intensely. It was as though a piece of her had been missing, and now it was finally being returned to her. The connection was undeniable, though she couldn't explain why. The moment her fingers brushed against the hilt, a strange warmth spread through her body, and a faint whisper echoed in her mind—a voice she couldn't quite hear but felt deep within her soul.

She slipped the dagger into her bag, hiding it from view as she left the stall and continued her walk through the night market.

What are you? she wondered silently, her thoughts swirling around the mysterious weapon. The rust and decay were merely a surface layer—she was certain of that now. There was something hidden beneath, something powerful, and she intended to find out exactly what it was.

As she walked away from the market, the night air felt different. She had come to the market out of curiosity, but now she was leaving with something far more valuable than she had anticipated. Something ancient, something that had chosen her.

The dagger's pull was still faint, but it was there, constant and unwavering. Feng Yan knew this was only the beginning. Whatever the dagger was, whatever secrets it held, she was destined to uncover them. And when she did, the power it contained would be hers to wield.