Chapter 54

This was her first time riding a spirit crane, and the experience was utterly novel. She leapt onto its back, and perhaps because she had offered it a spirit-replenishing pill in advance, the crane obligingly dispelled the protective wards on its back, shielding her from the fierce winds of flight.

When they reached the city gate, the spirit crane alighted to the side, nodding its head and flapping its wings at her before taking to the skies again, letting out a cry as it soared away in the direction of Kunlun.

A long queue stretched before the city gate. She had come to stroll about, not to play at experiencing the hardships of life, so without hesitation, she made her way to a side entrance. After presenting her disciple’s jade token to the guard, she was allowed entry without delay.

No matter the city, there was always some privilege for disciples of their own sect. In Kunlun, for instance, elite disciples need only show their identity jade token to enter any city under its jurisdiction.

The town was noticeably more bustling than when she had last visited. Vendors’ stalls lined the streets all the way to the gate—some surrounded by throngs, others deserted. With no real aim in mind, she simply began wandering from one end of the street.

Whenever she spotted a stall selling materials for artifact forging, she would pause to inspect the wares, moving on if nothing suited her needs. Occasionally, something rare or curious would catch her eye and she would purchase it—if not for herself, then for her father or uncle, or failing that, for Wei Qing.

Halfway down the long street, she stopped before a stall crowded with jars. Even from a distance, the fragrance of wine reached her. It was the first time she had seen a stand selling spiritual liquor. If it proved good, she could buy plenty to gift to her uncles, and of course, that included Master Xiangyun as well.

Yet, for all the enticing aroma, not a single customer lingered before the stall.

She stepped forward and crouched to examine the wares. “Do you have any spirit wine of third grade or higher?” she asked.

The old man behind the stall lifted his head indifferently, squinting at her. “Third-grade spirit wine—some brewed from spirit rice, some from spirit fruit. Spirit rice wine is five hundred spirit stones a jar; spirit fruit wine is six hundred.”

At those prices, she immediately understood why such fine wine had no buyers. Third-grade spirit wine was hardly rare—at most, two hundred spirit stones in any tavern or eatery. Here, the price was doubled.

She wasn’t short on money, but she disliked being taken for a fool. “May I have a taste?”

It was a reasonable request. Tasting was allowed when buying spirit wine, but the old man’s stall had not a single cup in sight, perhaps indicating he had no intention of offering samples.

But the wine’s fragrance was so alluring that she instinctively felt it must be something special and was reluctant to pass it by.

At her request, the old man hesitated. He had been setting up his stall for some time—many had inquired, but few had made a purchase. If he could sell off this whole batch, perhaps he could use the proceeds, while all the great sects were gathered here, to buy a golden core pill. He’d been stuck at the peak of Foundation Establishment for nearly ten years; if he didn’t break through soon, his lifespan would be at its end.

“Ten spirit stones a cup,” he said at last. His wine was no ordinary brew. Were it not for his desperate need for spirit stones, he wouldn’t part with even a single cup. Anyone thinking to sample for free could forget about it.

Li Mengze nearly laughed aloud. Such vendors were rare indeed, but experience told her that those who acted this way were often hidden masters. In a martial arts tale, the next scene would be her falling off a cliff, rescued by the very old man who sold her wine, who, after a long sigh, would take her as his final disciple and impart all his skills to her.

Alas, this was a tale of immortal cultivation, and the old man before her was just a peak Foundation Establishment cultivator with his days numbered—so such conjectures were out of the question.

She drew out a mid-grade spirit stone without fuss. “Pour me a cup of each spirit wine of third grade or higher.” If they were truly good, she could buy some to gift to her elders—those venerable ancestors of hers, almost all of whom enjoyed fine wine. With luck, who knew if someone might have rare gold stone to exchange in return.

Her intentions were entirely aboveboard, which actually startled the old man. Plenty had tasted his wine, but few had been so extravagant.

With a wave of his hand, a neat row of tiny cups appeared, each holding but a single sip. He poured from jar after jar, and soon the entire stall was suffused with the rich aroma of wine. Even drawing a breath felt as though spiritual energy itself seeped into her body. Li Mengze’s eyes lit up—it was indeed the real thing.

As a small crowd began to gather, she tossed a bottle to the old man. “See if what’s inside is worth all the spirit wine at your stall.”

As a cultivator, nothing was more precious than advancing in cultivation. She had seen at a glance that his time was almost up and could guess why he was selling so much spirit wine.

The old man hesitated, then cautiously uncorked the bottle. The medicinal fragrance instantly filled the air; his long-stagnant cultivation seemed to stir. He realized at once what was inside.

Without a second thought, he shoved his grimy storage pouch at Li Mengze, abandoned his stall, and ran off into the distance, calling out, “The whole stall is yours!”

His reaction left not only the onlookers dumbfounded but even Li Mengze herself. Peeking into the storage pouch, she found two or three hundred jars of indistinct grades of spirit wine and a dozen more on the stall itself. In the end, it was uncertain who had profited more from the exchange.

She took her time packing up the stall. Just as she was about to store the last jar, a slovenly old man appeared before her, utterly devoid of spiritual energy, leering at her with a lascivious expression.

Li Mengze forced a wry smile. Anyone else would surely have dismissed this seemingly ordinary old man.

She left the last jar untouched. She remembered that when the previous old man handed it over, he’d said it was fifth-grade spirit wine, best suited for Golden Core cultivators. Not only was the spiritual energy within abundant, but there wasn’t a trace of impurity—anyone who truly loved wine, regardless of cultivation, could savor it.

After setting a soundproof barrier, Li Mengze finally spoke. “Grandmaster, what brings you here?” The implication was clear: at your age, shouldn’t you remain quietly at Kunlun instead of wandering the market?

A dignified Nascent Soul cultivator, yet looking like a beggar—if word got out, people would think Kunlun was on the verge of decline.

Grandmaster Xianglong chuckled. “Little lass, instead of flirting with that Wei boy on the mountain, what brings you here by yourself?”

Li Mengze: o(╯□╰)o. How was she supposed to respond to that?

“Grandmaster, you’re one to talk. If the sect leader finds out you’re here, he’ll scold you so much you’ll be afraid to leave the mountain for decades.” Kunlun’s sect leader was famous for three things: a bureaucracy addict, lightning-fast in cultivation, and if not for clinging to the leadership, would be a Nascent Soul master by now; a miser to the point of wanting to split every spirit stone in two; and a relentless chatterbox who could nag for three days and nights without repeating himself.

Grandmaster Xianglong seemed to recall something, shuddering, then complained pitifully, “It’s not just me out here. Look over there.” He straightened up and tugged Li Mengze toward a spot not far away.

“See that old codger? Isn’t that so-and-so? And that one, pretending to be a fortune-teller—isn’t that Shui Shui?” He wasn’t satisfied until he dragged Li Mengze over to see for herself.

Li Mengze felt her world was turning upside down. What was going on? Were all the Nascent Soul elders of Kunlun running stalls in the free market? Had Kunlun fallen into such dire straits without her noticing?

She looked helplessly at her unreliable ancestor, shaking a bell and holding up a sign claiming to know the fates of the past five hundred years, pretending to be a fortune-teller.

Her head throbbed. If you’re going to swindle people, at least try to be subtle. All around were ordinary folk—how could they possibly doubt that someone eight hundred years old would know five centuries of history? The hard-earned spirit rice these mortals sold for a pittance was all being swindled away by her venerable ancestor. Did his conscience truly allow that?

She felt the urgent need to return to Kunlun and notify the sect leader to round up all these wayward elders and lock them away in the back mountain. Still, nothing stopped her from taking a little advantage first.

If they were going to pose as reclusive masters searching for fated ones, well, hadn’t she found them and recognized them too? Who could be more destined than she? It was only natural she should receive the rare treasures.

She made the rounds of several elders’ stalls, spending a handful of spirit stones to acquire many excellent items—some so rare she could not identify them herself.

After raiding her own sect’s elders, a strange idea occurred to Li Mengze—could it be that out of all the sects, only Kunlun’s elders were so unreliable? Surely, the world was never short of such characters.

With a fawning smile, she returned to Grandmaster Xianglong, her grin so sycophantic it made him uneasy.

She rifled through his stall but found nothing else that caught her fancy. “Little lass, if you have something to say, just say it. This…” The elder was visibly uncomfortable.

“I was just wondering,” she began, “whether any elders from Dan Ding or Yunwu have shown up. If they’re wandering our territory without notice, isn’t that a security risk? If the elders are aware, I volunteer to go check it out.” Such noble words—when in fact, she simply wanted to take advantage of the other sects’ elders.

Her little scheme was so blatant, not only did Grandmaster Xianglong avert his gaze in embarrassment, but even the nearby Nascent Soul elders of Kunlun glanced over. Was this shameless girl really a product of Kunlun’s education? She was even less reliable than these old men. They, at least, had lived so long that progress in cultivation demanded more than just training, so they enjoyed mingling among mortals now and then. If caught, so be it—their sect’s junior disciple, the direct grand-disciple of their junior brother, could be allowed a little benefit. But to go raiding the other sects’ elders—what was that about? Had Kunlun’s education really deteriorated, or was Cangjian Peak so impoverished that even its elite disciples had become so grasping?

At their level, Nascent Soul elders were generally easy-going, especially toward disciples they had watched grow up. They were tolerant of Li Mengze’s greed, shaking their heads with a smile. “It’s not that we won’t take you, but those old fellows are each eccentric in their own way. If I brought you along, you might end up with nothing at all. It’s best if you try your luck yourself.”

But seeing Li Mengze’s crestfallen face, he relented a little and muttered, “Ah, the world’s gone downhill—people just set up a stall, someone comes to buy their wares, and they’re picky. If the buyer isn’t good-looking, they complain about the view; if they are good-looking, they’re accused of being too flamboyant. Really hard to please. And talk about oddballs—some eight-hundred-year-old codger pretending to be a baby, isn’t that shameful? And lass, let me tell you, don’t be fooled by the patrols Kunlun has arranged—none of it’s worth a thing. See that fellow over there? That so-called Demon Lord from the devils’ sects, not even bothering with appearances, has come to set up his own stall and disturbed our peace.”

Following his finger, Li Mengze saw a white-robed man cheerfully greeting customers. She immediately understood: despite being a demonic cultivator, he must have a good temperament and got along well with Kunlun’s elders. Otherwise, Grandmaster Xianglong wouldn’t have pointed him out so directly—an unspoken invitation for her to go take advantage.