One Person: I, the Dragon Tiger Stall King! I Won!

70: I don’t save the world, I only help in emergenciesDawn broke, and roosters crowed across the land.

The Yuanli Market, usually bustling and lively, was shrouded in a deathly silence today.

“Bang!”

A crisp crack, like a clap of thunder, shattered the pre-dawn stillness.

Immediately after, a chorus of explosions erupted, as if someone had lit a long string of firecrackers in the market.

“Ah!”

A piercing scream followed.

A stall owner selling “Lucky Biscuits” rolled his eyes back, falling straight backward, foaming at the mouth and convulsing.

The moment he fell, the Yuanli Crystal on his stall, which contained his life’s work, suddenly shattered into countless fragments.

In the splashing crystal light, a terrifyingly twisted man’s face eerily appeared, its resentful gaze seemingly wanting to devour people from the illusion.

This was just the beginning.

One, two, ten... dozens of stall owners fainted without cause at the same time, and without exception, the Yuanli Crystals on their stalls all burst.

Each shattered crystal reflected the face of an old enemy filled with resentment, their Yin Qi (yin qi) chilling, causing the temperature of the entire market to plummet.

Panic spread like a plague.

“Run! It’s haunted!”

“A curse! This is a curse!”

The surviving stall owners and early morning customers scrambled, and the market instantly descended into chaos.

“Everyone stop! Law Enforcement Department at work!”

A deep shout, like a great bell, resonated through the entire scene.

Cui Wujiu, clad in a black trench coat, his face ashen, led a team of enforcers to seal off the entire area with lightning speed.

He walked up to a fainted stall owner, squatted down, picked up a crystal fragment shimmering with a resentful face, joined his two fingers, and a wisp of spiritual power probed into it.

A moment later, he slowly stood up, his expression growing even more solemn, and said in a deep voice to the anxious Su Qingzhu beside him: “It’s not a curse. A curse has a caster, a medium, and a clear causal line. But these…” He paused, a hint of difficulty in his voice, “are ‘Yuan Debt Backlash’.”

“Yuan Debt Backlash?” Su Qingzhu frowned.

“Yes.” Cui Wujiu’s gaze swept over the suffering, fainted stall owners, “Some people used the rules of the Yuanli Market to atone, offering Yuanli to gain peace of mind, but they never truly repented. They just wanted to use this method to buy themselves the self-comfort of ‘I have already atoned.’ But the Heavenly Dao is clear, and resentment does not extinguish. When their self-proclaimed ‘merit’ accumulates to a certain extent, but they cannot suppress the unextinguished sins deep within their hearts, the obsession will backlash. This power is more malicious than any curse, because it originates from themselves!”

Upon hearing this, Su Qingzhu’s face turned pale, and she immediately flipped through the law enforcement files in her hand.

Page after page, her fingers moved faster and faster, and her heart sank deeper and deeper.

Indeed, all the stall owners who had problems were, without exception, people from old cases who had committed serious crimes back then, but eventually escaped the final judgment of the Law Enforcement Department by using ”photocopy yellow paper” in street stall transactions!

She suddenly looked up, piercing through the chaotic crowd, and stared intently at the figure who was still leisurely sitting behind his stall, as if everything had nothing to do with him.

Su Qingzhu rushed over, pressed down on his stall, and urgently questioned: “Zhang Xuanyi! You knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

Zhang Xuanyi was pinching a few green bean sprouts, slowly arranging a divination on his stall.

Hearing Su Qingzhu’s question, he didn’t even bother to lift his eyelids, just grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth: “I knew.”

These three understated words almost made Su Qingzhu faint from anger.

“You knew, so why didn’t you stop it?!”

Zhang Xuanyi finally looked up, and in his seemingly casual eyes, a hint of world-weary wisdom flashed.

He retorted: “How could I stop it? Can I prevent people from coming to atone? No. Can I judge for the Heavenly Dao whether they are truly repentant? Even less so. I’m just a street vendor, not a judge of the underworld.”

He casually sprinkled a handful of spirit-filled heavenly eye mung beans into a sizzling frying pan nearby, and the bean sprouts instantly burst with a peculiar aroma in the hot oil.