ACIDEM 08

Chapter – 08

Settling Down

Carrying the thin bamboo tube, with the automatically shrunk bamboo token hanging around his neck, Fu Shaoguang didn’t rush to leave.

Old demons talk a lot.

While issuing his identity token, the old weasel demon rambled on, letting slip some useful information.

[This Demon Market is called Yushan.]

[The first household upon entering the market is the Demon Administration Office.]

Every demon arriving at the market for the first time had to receive basic education at the Demon Administration Office, memorizing the market rules to avoid causing trouble.

Fu Shaoguang spent half an hour here, listening alongside other demons to the old weasel’s chatter, learning more details.

[The Demon Administration Office governs the entire market. Though the place isn’t large, it has many functions—household registration, commercial regulations, taxation, military affairs, marriage, land, and more all fall under its purview.]

[The bamboo token is a demon’s proof of identity. Whether intending to settle permanently or visiting temporarily, every demon must have one. Otherwise, they’d be undocumented—either forced into hard labor, fined to get a replacement, or denied the benefits of the Demon Market.]

[The Demon Market is divided into three streets and six lanes, each with different areas and different roles.]
…

After leaving the Demon Administration Office, Fu Shaoguang headed to Golden Jade Street.

This was the market’s commercial district. Street stalls lined the way, hawking and haggling rising and falling in waves. There were also over a dozen shops with eye-catching signs—some hanging, some standing—each with its own distinct flair.

“Tiger wine! Tiger blood wine brewed by the Tiger Power family—warming and nourishing, a secret ancestral recipe, absolutely authentic!”
“Chinese cabbage! Crisp and refreshing Chinese cabbage—every vegetarian demon can’t miss this!”

“Eggs! My third aunt’s younger brood laid these today—guaranteed fresh!”
…

The other young demons who had left the Administration Office together were dazzled and amazed, but Fu Shaoguang remained unmoved—both because this commercial district was roughly the equivalent of a rural village market from his previous life, and because he had a clear goal and no time to observe or admire the market’s charms.

The Demon Market had few rules—only nine—but the single rule *”No demon shall harm another demon”* made Fu Shaoguang resolve to settle here. To do so, however, he needed money.

The old weasel had mentioned that shops bearing gold-lettered signs were exchange shops under the Demon Administration Office.

After flying half the street, he spotted the exchange shop, whose threshold was slightly higher than other stores, and flew straight inside.

—

The exchange shop was shaped like a gold ingot, with an interior space of about three zhang and relatively ornate decor—gold and red silk hangings, carved beams and painted rafters.

When Fu Shaoguang arrived, several demons were queuing for business. A wooden perch stood nearby, and a colorful parrot perched on it chirped cheerfully:

“Welcome, honored guest! Welcome!”

A three-chi-tall squirrel demon, clearly a shop clerk, scampered over on its hind legs, swishing its large, fluffy tail. Its entire body was orange-red, its cheeks plump and round, with prominent front teeth—an endearing, festive sight.

“Honored guest, what can I do for you?”

It raised a paw and pointed to the large wooden signs hung on the wall, introducing them one by one: “Our humble shop specializes in pawnbroking, lending with interest, and safekeeping.”

Fu Shaoguang understood.

Pawnbroking needed no explanation.

Safekeeping meant storing items.

Lending with interest meant usury.

Considering that some demons couldn’t speak human tongue or read, customers only needed to point to the corresponding wooden sign.

Fu Shaoguang flew a circle around the pawnbroking sign, and the squirrel demon understood, leading him to the appropriate counter.

Among the new demons that night, he arrived first and didn’t need to wait in line. Behind the counter, a toad demon wearing a red scarf had eyes that bulged even wider than usual. It stuck out its tongue, licked its lips, and said in surprise:

“Ribbit, in this day and age, even mayflies can become demons—how extraordinary!”

Suppressing his instinctive fear of a natural predator, Fu Shaoguang set down the thin bamboo tube. The toad demon took it, pulled out the wild fruit pit serving as a stopper, and a rich aroma of wine filled the air.

The toad demon’s eyes lit up: “Ribbit ribbit, monkey wine! This is considered top-tier even in the Demon Market. What a pity—such a small amount.”

Extending its webbed paw, it flicked a few beads on the abacus and said: “Honored guest, at market price, two liang of monkey wine are worth fifty wen. Do you wish to exchange it, ribbit?”

Fu Shaoguang couldn’t speak human tongue, couldn’t read, and couldn’t haggle. After a brief moment of consideration, he nodded in agreement.

He was unfamiliar with the place, but no matter how much it was, having money in hand gave him confidence.

He took off his identity token and handed it over. The bamboo token, empowered by the magic of the market’s mistress, Lady Yuli, could not only verify identity but also contained a small space—about a chi square—for storage.

That had been a pleasant surprise.

After putting away the monkey wine, the toad demon took the token, credited fifty wen into it, and returned it.

Fu Shaoguang infused a wisp of aura into it, the token shrank back down, and he hung it around his neck before turning and flying away.

—

The Demon Market’s real estate agency was located at the end of Golden Jade Street, in a building shaped like a grain of rice.

When Fu Shaoguang entered, he was warmly received by a pack of sleek, glossy-furred rat demons. Cunning, numerous, and well-informed, they had a monopoly on the market’s housing agency.

The agency also had wooden signs for business services. Once was unfamiliar, twice was familiar—Fu Shaoguang quickly made his intentions known.

The rat demon in charge of rentals twirled its whiskers, its eyes darting around, and said in a sharp, thin voice:

“The Demon Market’s housing is divided into three grades: Grade A, Grade B, and Grade C. Grade A rents for five hundred wen a month and is built on spiritual veins; Grade B rents for one hundred wen a month and has spirit-gathering arrays inscribed; Grade C rents for fifty wen a month and is just ordinary housing. Which grade would you prefer, honored guest?”

Glancing at Fu Shaoguang, the rat demon added considerately: “You may shake a corresponding number of legs to answer.”

Without hesitation, Fu Shaoguang shook three legs.

Though he hated to admit it, he was truly poor.

The rat demon beamed: “Please wait a moment, honored guest. I’ll arrange for a housing agent to take you to view the properties.”

Half a cup of tea later, watching Fu Shaoguang’s departing figure, the rat demon curled its lip: “Another poor demon.”

Grade C housing was nearly at capacity.

Grade B housing wasn’t even a third rented out.

Grade A went without saying.

Weaving through streets and lanes, Fu Shaoguang arrived at Anping Lane—one of the most populous lanes in the market. The demons living here were mostly not wealthy, a motley mix, with generally low cultivation levels.

Along the way, the rat demon chattered incessantly, providing detailed introductions. After viewing several houses, Fu Shaoguang settled on a small courtyard.

The fifty wen he had just received hadn’t even warmed in his hand before they were spent—it pained him greatly. Fortunately, the agency’s service was thorough; the subsequent contract and registration at the Demon Administration Office were handled without his worry.

After seeing off the rat demon, Fu Shaoguang began inspecting his little courtyard. Demons came in different sizes, so housing varied accordingly. To balance prices, each Grade C courtyard had its own character.

Large courtyards emphasized spaciousness, but the buildings and decorations were relatively rough. Small courtyards were custom-made by human craftsmen, with fine materials, exquisite decor, and elegant aesthetics—like miniature gardens in the classical style.

Walking through his five-chi rented courtyard, Fu Shaoguang grew more and more satisfied. A three-chi tall bamboo served as a tree, flowers and grass were planted, a pavilion stood gracefully, and there was even a two-chi plot of arable land. The overall bamboo-structured house was elegant in every detail, with a main hall, bedroom, guest room, and kitchen, all furnished with utensils and cookware.

The little courtyard was also perched on an old pine tree, elevated and offering a broad view of a corner of the Demon Market.

After a leisurely tour, Fu Shaoguang collapsed onto the bed to rest. All his money was gone; he couldn’t afford to buy anything else. He just wanted to sleep well—truly, peacefully, and securely.

He also hoped for a sweet dream.

As for making a living—that could wait until tomorrow.

Fewer worries and less trouble in the heart meant a longer life.