Chapter 121: Danyang Commandery

Danyang Commandery is the largest city near Xuantian Sect, with five million permanent residents and one hundred thousand garrison troops, overseeing dozens of major cities and minor counties.

It is also the capital of Tongzhou, which, in Earth terms, is a provincial capital.

The highest administrative official of a commandery is called the Commandant—essentially a mayor—but this mayor is not someone any ordinary person can hold; at least a Wu Zun cultivation base is required.

Meanwhile, the seat of Tongzhou’s highest administrative official, the Governor, is also located in Danyang Commandery.

The Governor is the Commandant’s superior, with strength no lower than the Commandant’s; only a Wu Wang cultivator may hold this position.

This is the Yuanwu Continent, where political status is directly tied to personal cultivation!

Before his transmigration, Cang Luo had a dream: to own a home of his own in a first-tier city of Huaxia—a dream shared by nearly every Huaxia person.

It was called a dream because it was utterly unattainable.

How could Cang Luo, born into a poor family, afford hundreds of millions—or even billions—of yuan to buy a house?

But now it was different: Cang Luo, transmigrated to the Yuanwu Continent, could effortlessly spend tens of millions on a house without blinking.

The only problem was, he could no longer return to Earth to enjoy it.

Moreover, achieving the wish to buy a house too easily robbed it of excitement; Cang Luo desperately wanted to experience the thrill of selecting a home from a sales model at a real estate office.

That feeling must be exquisite: a beautiful, sweet-faced salesgirl greeting you with a smile, warmer than to God himself.

Cang Luo had heard of unwritten rules—some salesgirls had to sleep with buyers to close a deal, since the commission could reach tens of thousands of yuan; how could one lose?

Since he couldn’t return to Earth for now, Cang Luo decided to visit Danyang Commandery to see if any houses were for sale.

The Yuanwu Continent was now his second homeland; how could one not own a home in one’s homeland? He could also enjoy the thrill of buying property.

Cang Luo still had some spare cash: over seventy second-grade demon cores and nearly four hundred low-grade Yuan Stones—equivalent to over five million RMB on Earth.

Though not a fortune, this was the Yuanwu Continent, where Yuan Stones were cultivation resources; surely he could buy a house from ordinary people?

If not enough, he still had the complete pelt of a fifth-grade demon beast, the Shadow Tiger.

Cang Luo believed it must be valuable—surely worth several hundred or even a thousand low-grade Yuan Stones?

This was a luxury item!

After nearly an hour of galloping, Cang Luo finally arrived beneath Danyang Commandery on his Husky.

Looking up at Danyang Commandery from below felt entirely different from viewing it via satellite.

Viewing Danyang Commandery from satellite was like playing a game map: the uneven houses and colorful pedestrians lacked any sense of reality.

But standing close and gazing up at Danyang Commandery’s thick walls brought a suffocating weight—over ten meters high, the walls sealed the city completely.

Cang Luo knew these walls were not built to repel bandits or enemy armies, but to defend against demon beasts.

Danyang Commandery bordered demon beast forests, and low- to mid-grade demon beasts often raided the city or nearby towns.

The walls and gates were heavily guarded by soldiers, mostly Shi or Wu Jiang cultivators, who closely watched ordinary travelers and cultivators, occasionally stopping them for inspection.

Cang Luo observed that cultivators capable of flight always landed voluntarily near the gates before walking in.

Those riding beast companions recalled them into their beast spaces before entering; otherwise, the guards would stop them.

Cang Luo was surprised: cultivators who could fly through the air—excluding those with flying treasures or special techniques—were mostly Wu Wangs.

Even Wu Wangs had to land and walk into the city!

This meant Danyang Commandery was a law-governed city? With traffic rules?

Cang Luo smiled, thought nothing more of it, and recalled his Husky, walking into the city without being checked by the guards.

Perhaps it was because his appearance was ordinary and harmless, or perhaps because he wore the outer-disciple robe of Xuantian Sect.

After all, Xuantian Sect was the strongest force in Tongzhou, the only Emperor-level sect.

Danyang Commandery lay within Xuantian Sect’s sphere of influence; its high-ups owned countless businesses here and were deeply entangled with local powers; no one would lightly provoke a Xuantian Sect disciple.

It was already two in the afternoon, the sun at its fiercest.

After entering the city, Cang Luo had no interest in wandering—he’d already seen everything via satellite—and now only wanted a place to rest and drink tea.

Near the city gate, Danyang Commandery resembled Earth’s high-speed rail and bus stations.

There was no shortage of taverns, restaurants, inns, or brothels, with eager waiters and heavily made-up brothel girls shouting to attract customers.

As soon as Cang Luo entered, five or six voluptuous, beautiful women surrounded him, trying to drag him into their brothels.

One woman with a voluptuous figure even grabbed his hand and pulled it into her bosom, squeezing it as she laughed: “Master... won’t you come in and have some fun with Sister?”

Cang Luo was stunned, quickly pulled his hand away, and stammered: “No, no, I’m too weak to handle your kindness.”

Saying this, he shuddered, gently pushed the women aside, and fled in panic.

He wasn’t lying—he really was weak...

Damn it!

That cursed hunger-absorption ability!

Fuck!

Cang Luo cursed inwardly!

After scolding himself, he entered a tavern, deciding to eat something.

As soon as Cang Luo stepped in, a waiter rushed forward with a bow and enthusiasm: “Sir, what would you like? We just received two Steel-Armored Cows this morning—fresh as can be. Would you like two catties?”

Steel-Armored Cow is a metal-type second-grade demon beast, famed for its extreme defense, nearly as hard as steel; though its hide is thick and coarse, the muscle beneath is exceptionally tender, making it the most commonly consumed demon meat among low-grade cultivators, after Spear Boar.

Cang Luo glanced around the first-floor hall: many patrons, almost all cultivators—this tavern clearly catered to them, hence the Steel-Armored Cow.

Cang Luo nodded: “Alright, two catties. What wines do you have?”

The waiter beamed: “We have Bamboo Leaf Green brewed with spirit herbs, Monkey Wine made from third-tier beast Xiao Huohou, aged Daughter Red, and Hua Diao. Which would you like?”

Cang Luo didn’t drink at all and knew nothing about wine—he just wanted to experience the bold, heroic flair of characters ordering drinks in TV dramas.

“Um... which is cheapest?” he asked, feeling he couldn’t refuse after asking, though he wasn’t short on money—he still shouldn’t waste it.

The waiter smiled: “Hua Diao is cheapest—one jin for three silver coins.”

One silver coin weighed five grams; three weighed fifteen grams—about fifty RMB on Earth—but silver on the Yuanwu Continent was ten times more valuable, so one jin of Hua Diao cost roughly five hundred RMB.

So expensive! Are cultivators that easy to swindle?

Or is this tavern too upscale?

Cang Luo hesitated to buy but felt too awkward to refuse, so he asked: “What is Hua Diao?”

The waiter patiently explained: “Hua Diao is similar to Daughter Red. Daughter Red is dug up from the ground when a daughter marries, as her dowry.

Hua Diao, however, is dug up before the daughter even marries—because she died young...”

“I see...”

Cang Luo nodded, then suddenly asked: “Do all taverns and inns in Danyang Commandery sell Hua Diao?”

“Yes, all of them,” the waiter replied honestly. “Cultivators are especially fond of Daughter Red and Hua Diao.”

Cang Luo exclaimed: “How many daughters must die just to supply all these taverns?! Unlucky! Unlucky! I won’t drink it!”

At this, the hall erupted in laughter; several drinkers turned to look at Cang Luo, one chuckling: “Hahahaha... this kid’s funny!”

Cang Luo smiled apologetically, like a fresh college graduate.

The waiter awkwardly said: “Sir, you misunderstood—I haven’t finished. When a daughter dies young, it’s like a flower wilting—hence ‘Hua Diao’ wine.

Later, as the name spread, taverns began brewing ‘Hua Diao’ wine—so this Hua Diao is not that Hua Diao.”

Cang Luo sighed helplessly—he couldn’t refuse; the waiter’s service was too good.

“Then one jin of Hua Diao, two catties of Steel-Armored Cow, one jin of fat goose—and... that’s all.”

Huh? How did Qiao Feng order? Cang Luo frowned in thought.

The waiter beamed: “Right away, sir! Please take a seat—your dishes will come shortly...”

Cang Luo nodded, found a relatively clean table, and sat.

Then he cautiously scanned the surroundings, fearing someone might suddenly rush over to claim his seat and start a fight.

Didn’t villains always appear like that? It’s all Taolu .

Unfortunately, Cang Luo was overthinking—until all the dishes arrived, nothing happened. But he overheard a piece of news that deeply interested him.

At the next table sat four men in their thirties, all cultivators. One, with a booming voice, shouted: “They say the Cultivator Alliance’s auction this afternoon has some great items—should we go check it out?”

The others nodded eagerly, all agreeing to go—and perhaps sell something too.

Cultivator Alliance?

Auction?

Cang Luo pondered—he’d heard the name before.

When he first transmigrated, Xuan Qingqing had introduced him to major powers and empires on the Yuanwu Continent, including the Cultivator Alliance.

The Cultivator Alliance is one of the four strongest forces on the Yuanwu Continent, each backed by a Wu Sheng cultivator; the other three are Mo Family Mechanism City, Qin Empire, and Yuan Empire.

The latter three were understandable—powerful, but not mysterious.

The Cultivator Alliance? No one even knew where its headquarters was, only that its branches spread across every corner of the Yuanwu Continent, its members called Bounty Hunters.

Any cultivator could apply to join the Alliance at the nearest branch and become a Bounty Hunter, earning a living by completing tasks posted by the Alliance while receiving its protection.

From gathering rare herbs to assassinations and robbery—no matter the task, if the bounty was right, a Bounty Hunter would take it.

Cang Luo thought the Cultivator Alliance resembled the mercenary guilds he’d read about in novels: a powerful figure creates a platform, recruits members, expands the organization, then takes payment for services.

Always the bottom layer works, the middle layer manages, and the top layer enjoys.

Cang Luo had always yearned for this life—getting paid to do dangerous work, living on the edge of death. On Earth, this was called a killer—illegal.

But on the Yuanwu Continent, where strength ruled, it was legal—and given a nicer name.

Bounty Hunter!

Cang Luo decided that after eating, he’d visit the Danyang Commandery branch of the Cultivator Alliance, check out the auction, witness the grandeur, see if anything suited his needs, and sell the Shadow Tiger’s pelt.