His fiancée tore up their marriage contract in front of everyone, then turned around and climbed into another man's carriage.
That young master casually kicked over Ye Chen's market stall and tossed down a few spirit stones. "You poor wretch, go buy yourself a coffin."
Ye Chen said nothing and quietly picked up the spirit stones.
That night, a cold notification rang out in his run-down shack: Spirit stones received. Exchange for cultivation realm.
Clutching the few stones he'd been given as an insult, he smiled.
This deal could work.
