Smirking Merchant Novels & Stories

However, there was always a catch when dealing with the Shady Merchant. “What do you get out of this?” he asked cautiously. Smiling mysteriously with a little jig in his step, the mysterious merchant launched into the most dramatic speech about how he was merely doing his part to help the farmers and their livelihood. “What more could I ask for than peace for these noble farmers?” the Shady merchant concluded and batted his lashes with a plastic smile.

I blinked in astonishment, "All of them? But there are quite a few left!" Merchant Shi waved his hand dismissively. "No worries, my dear. I appreciate your talent and want to savor every morsel at my leisure. Consider it a reward for bringing such joy to my taste buds!" "But... what about the payment? We don't have enough change for such a large amount." Of course, we have, I just goanna test if he would not ask for the change! HAHA Merchant Shi chuckled heartily, pulling out a small sack filled with silver coins. "My dear, consider this a token of my appreciation. Take it as a reward for your culinary brilliance!"

The princess smiled at the merchant and stepped closer. But she did not have time to accept the bowl painted with white patterns from the hands of the man, one of the guards intercepted it. "I'm sorry ma'am, I have to try," he explained with a surprised look. Deamara gave him a knowing nod, lowering her hand, but her smile faded. All the fears and apprehensions that had tormented her all winter were vividly remembered. And I didn’t want a tasty drink at all. The merchant's face did not change, although his smile became somewhat forced.

Said The Black Merchant to Yao Ming as he reaches his hand to pat Yao Ming's shoulder. “Do you feel me?” The Black Merchant said in a tone like asking for someone to understand his dilemma, but to Yao Ming, it’s like an ironclad decree that needs to obey without any question. “Ye… Yes! Sir Black Merchant! I clearly understand.” Once Yao Ming said that the Black Merchant put on a business smile. “That’s good then. So Please feel free to come back to our shop and enjoy our quality goods. Goodbye Ancestor Yao” The Black Merchant said happily as he waved his hand in farewell and vanished without a trace.

Adrianna responded, “The dead people won’t even know about their coffins made by this merchant.” “To rest the soul of dead people in peace,” Mrtyu replied from the corner. Everyone looked at her and she replied, “What? Isn’t it obvious?” Host Hook clapped his hand to grab the attention of the students. “So, this merchant trade coffins widely and people gave him the title as Merchant of Demise.” Another student asked, “What is the face mask for?” Host Hook blinked and managed with his smile, “People don’t ever get any chance to see his real face, the local people said so. So, no one knows how he looks like.”

If I didn’t know for sure he was rich before, I certainly knew it now. We stepped out of the merchant’s stall and were immediately swarmed by the neighboring tents’ merchants. Every single one of them called out in sweet voices, trying to coax us like sirens to their wares. Every stall we passed had a salesman trying to pull us into their shop. One physically grabbed my arm to pull me under his tent to look at his jewelry, making me squeak and stumble away. Jack’s face twisted as though he tasted something sour, and he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the water. The merchants still kept hawking their wares, but at least they couldn’t pluck at our clothing. We walked through the waves, still

I smirk. ##########

“It is just another ghost story. You must have seen someone else.” “I know what I saw,” the merchant insisted, his tone was firm and unyielding. “There is no mistaking those eyes. Silver, like a storm, and sharp as a bolt of lightning. I saw her on the island, blending in with the villagers. She is alive, I’m telling you.”

PRINCE ADRIAN By the time the merchant was brought before me, I had almost convinced myself I was wasting my time. The man stood in the middle of my study, rainwater dripping from the hem of his cloak onto the polished marble floor. He couldn’t have been older than fifty, his beard threaded with gray, his hands rough from years on the road. He smelled of horses, wet leather and smoke. He looked terrified and that was good because people lied less when they were afraid.

She was scarecrow thin, with hollow eyes and bloody feet. The next morning, a sleek merchant on a grey mare reined up by the Seller and offered to buy his wagons and everything in them for a quarter of their worth gold. "It's still war, they'll take what they want, you'll do better selling to me, my friend." The Seller turned away with a twist of his crooked shoulders, and spat.