Aiden watched the scene in silence.
The merchant stood behind a wooden table, sweating slightly despite the cool breeze drifting in from the street. He looked to be in his forties, dressed in plain but tidy robes, with the face of someone who had spent years bargaining his way through markets.
On the table sat a small velvet cloth.
And on top of it rested the item drawing all this attention.
It was tiny.
No larger than a finger.
A miniature sword, carefully crafted from a dark metal with faint silver engravings running along the flat of the blade. It looked more like an ornament than a weapon, the kind rich collectors might hang from their belts for decoration.
Not exactly impressive.
The merchant raised both hands dramatically.
"I swear on my reputation, this item contains genuine qi!"
That only made a few people laugh.
A bald man near the front crossed his arms.
"Your reputation?" he said dryly. "You sell junk charms and fake talismans every other month."
