I Am Unaware That I Am the Peerless Martial God

Mr. Wu's hands couldn't help but tremble as he solemnly asked again, "You're saying this is for me?"

"Yes, it's for you," Yi Feng said with a wave of his hand, seemingly indifferent.

Mr. Wu gasped and felt somewhat dizzy. The whole thing felt surreal and he still couldn't quite believe it. He asked again, "Really for me?"

"It's just a rake head, no big deal," Yi Feng said casually.

Just a rake head?

Yi Feng's words made Mr. Wu roll his eyes in exasperation, nearly smacking him. But coming to his senses, he was even more shocked and incredulous, realizing he had underestimated Yi Feng. Yi Feng's status in his mind instantly rose another level.

He couldn't help but wonder, who exactly was this young-looking but undoubtedly ancient monster?

He could so casually dismiss even a Saint-tier artifact?

"Of course, I'm not just giving this rake to you for nothing," Yi Feng added. Though he wished he could simply give the old man the rake, he wasn't that much of a saint yet. After all, economically speaking, he himself was in dire straits.

He never expected Yi Feng to just hand over a Saint-tier divine weapon. These artifacts were hard to come by, and even if one had treasures worth a fortune, a Saint-tier artifact may still be unattainable.

So he also grew apprehensive, wondering what exactly Yi Feng would demand of him, or make him do. And would he even be capable of that?

For a time, squatting on his little stool, he looked like a child anxiously awaiting Yi Feng's response.

"We're old friends, I certainly won't haggle with you over market price. Let's say I give you a fifty percent discount!" Yi Feng said with a smile. Even a fifty percent discount was the lowest price in his mind. This old farmer may be poor, but he should still be able to afford a rake at half price.

Hearing this, Mr. Wu's body shook.

A fifty percent discounted Saint-tier artifact would drive countless old monsters on the continent mad with desire.

But it pained him that even at a fifty percent discount, he still couldn't afford it.

That tattered seven-pronged Saint rake he had before nearly drained his life savings. Even half price was far beyond what he could pay.

What to do?

How could he miss this heaven-sent opportunity?

Mr. Wu scrunched his face in distress.

Seeming to notice Mr. Wu's awkward expression, Yi Feng frowned and asked, "What's wrong Old Wu, not enough money?"

Mr. Wu hung his head in shame and nodded slightly.

Yi Feng sighed.

It turns out this old man was even poorer than he imagined.

Now what to do?

Seeing Yi Feng sigh, Mr. Wu grew extremely anxious. If Yi Feng retracted this heaven-sent chance, he'd be devastated. So he raised his head nervously and asked, "Brother Yi, no, Mr. Yi, how about..."

"Hm?"

Yi Feng looked at him.

"There's something I still haven't finished. When it's done, I'm willing to serve under you as master. What do you think..." After speaking, Mr. Wu looked nervously at Yi Feng.

He didn't know if Yi Feng would agree.

"Serve under me?"

Yi Feng was taken aback, then curled his lips. Was the old man's chuunibyou acting up again?

Let alone a rake head not warranting that level of devotion, even taking a step back - what use would this old man be following him? Other than being another mouth to feed, if he randomly dropped dead one day, Yi Feng would have to pay for his coffin!

"Alright then!"

Seeing Yi Feng's reaction, Mr. Wu's face fell, immediately realizing Yi Feng had no wish to accept this offer.

Of course, Yi Feng was already stronger than him to begin with. What use would he, a mere follower, be?

"How about this," Yi Feng thought for a moment then said, "take the rake first, you can slowly gather the money and pay me when you have it. Does that work?"

After speaking, he looked at Mr. Wu.

This was the greatest concession he could make. If he had the means, giving the old man a rake would be nothing. But he refused to put up a front.

Yi Feng's words instantly elated Mr. Wu. He was deeply grateful and respectful toward Yi Feng.

He thought his fate with this artifact was severed, but unexpectedly Yi Feng was willing to compromise so much.

"Mr. Yi, I will engrave your kindness in my heart. Perhaps I will never be of use to you, but I, Wu Yonghong, hereby swear that if you ever have need of me, I will serve unto death!"

As he spoke, he stood and solemnly bowed to Yi Feng.

With Wu Yonghong's oath, the clouds above Pingjiang City suddenly shifted and two bolts of lightning flashed across the sky. A profound contract imprinted itself into Wu Yonghong's mind.

An oath-bound pledge.

Should it be violated, only destruction awaits.

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