Ren Qing scanned his surroundings, intentionally yet casually releasing a hint of his aura.
The sound of barking dogs came to an abrupt halt.
Compared to the slightly duller donkeys and horses, the stray dogs were more sensitive to danger. They all tucked their tails between their legs almost simultaneously.
The stall owners exchanged bewildered and uncertain glances, completely oblivious to Ren Qing, who was mixed in with the crowd.
Ren Qing gradually withdrew his aura, and the morning market grew noisy once more.
He walked unhesitatingly toward a corner where ordinary stray dogs were being sold. In fact, based on their appearance, some looked a bit too ferocious.
Ren Qing's gaze fell on one particular stray dog. Its fur was covered in scars, and it was confined alone in a small cage, unable to move.
"How many silver coins?"
"Three taels…"
