Chapter 40: Now He

Though named Bird Market, Lu City’s bird market sells far more than birds; just standing at the street entrance, one can see its classic antique alley ambiance.

Each shop displays shelves lined with porcelain, seals, clay figurines, and wood carvings; along the roadside, vendors spread out coarse linen cloths with a few ancient artifacts waiting for buyers to inquire prices—only a handful of shops display flowers, birds, fish, and insects, adding a touch of life to this street saturated with antiques.

Feng Xue scanned each shopkeeper’s head with his shoulder-level vision, searching among varying lifespans for those with longevity; this world operated under a system of karmic retribution—good deeds and evil acts—no matter how it manifested, the principle of “good rewarded, evil punished” held true.

Under such circumstances, a person with an exceptionally long lifespan was either a cultivator of the Dao or one who had accumulated virtue through good deeds; in an antique alley like this, such individuals were far more likely to possess genuine artifacts.

Thinking of this, Feng Xue recalled his quest to collect secret manuals; whether due to proximity or shared lineage, the spell Liu Aunt gave him was nearly identical to Ninth Aunt’s, even lacking the [Pot Heaven] and [Night Prayer] techniques, but adding a protective charm called [Golden Body].

Feng Xue then visited other rice shops, but each either refused to take disciples or offered only these same few techniques; this made him realize that, at least in this area, the offerings available to shamans were limited to these.

“Still, I’ve acquired one new manual—maybe I can ask around elsewhere; who knows, I might find more?”

Optimistically thinking this, Feng Xue’s gaze suddenly flickered—he had barely passed by, yet he keenly sensed a lifespan exceeding the norm by one digit.

Six digits—even the first digit was merely 1, that still meant three or four hundred years of remaining life!

Without hesitation, he turned back and saw a large armchair placed before a shop, where an elderly man with white hair and a youthful face sat calmly, holding a small red-clay teapot in one hand, a vintage record player beside him emitting faint, warbling opera melodies; his crossed leg tapped gently to the rhythm, radiating the aura of a hermit nestled amid the bustle.

Feng Xue knew this was the one—he stepped forward immediately, but before he could speak, the old man didn’t lift his head and said:

“Prices are marked. Take what you like. No haggling.”

Feng Xue glanced at the price tags on the shelves—his brow twitched. There was Tianhuang stone, Hetian jade—each casually priced at over ten strings of cash; if of high quality, they were even more expensive than the spirit ghost in his pocket. Such astonishing prices, displayed openly on a leaky, open-air shelf, explained why passersby all kept their distance.

Come on—if there was even a single trap on that shelf, you’d get hit just walking by; whether the goods were real or fake, you’d be bankrupted for sure.

A disrespectful thought crossed his mind, but Feng Xue had no intention of beating around the bush—he said directly:

“Elder, I wish to purchase jade seals for cultivation. Quality need not be high, but I need large quantities. Where might I acquire them?”

Hearing Feng Xue’s question, the old man—whose face showed no wrinkles despite his white hair—slightly raised his eyes, glancing for an instant at Feng Xue’s waist and fingers, then replied:

“You don’t lack money, I see. Planning to make jade talismans or practice [Devouring Jade]? Your cultivation is too shallow—practicing it would do more harm than good.”

Feng Xue had encountered the term [Devouring Jade] in the [Ingestion] manual—it required Dao initiation to practice, forging jade bones and extending lifespan, one of the techniques on his mandatory list.

But now was not the time to discuss it—he merely shook his head:

“Just making protective items.”

“You’re young—don’t speak so stiffly. Jade talismans are jade talismans. I’ve seen everything. Your level doesn’t need top-grade material—go to Nanshanju next door, get a hundred jin of scraps, carve them yourself. Don’t forget to ask them for a copy of [Jade Carving].”

The old man spoke with clear impatience; Feng Xue immediately bowed, then reached for a banknote to pay the customary consultation fee.

But the old man waved it off:

“No need. I can tell you’re thoughtful—maybe in a hundred years, you’ll come to me as a customer.”

“Then I accept your auspicious words,” Feng Xue said, realizing this was clearly a major figure—he turned and walked toward the shop nearby bearing the sign [Nanshanju].

As if he had already witnessed Feng Xue’s exchange with the elder, the plump shopkeeper approached without waiting for his clerk to speak, smiling warmly; Feng Xue glanced at his head—his lifespan was also around a hundred years.

The shopkeeper seemed to notice the subtle shift in Feng Xue’s gaze; though he didn’t know what Feng Xue had perceived, since the old man had deigned to speak to him, this youth was clearly no ordinary person—he dropped his pretense of seniority and said directly: “Young brother, what are you looking for?”

“Just give me scraps suitable for carving jade seals and talismans. And…,” Feng Xue hesitated, unsure how to ask for the book without sounding like he was riding on the old man’s reputation.

Fortunately, the shopkeeper had seen this before—he immediately pulled out a small booklet:

“I get it, I get it—this one, right? Scraps aren’t worth much—sold by the jin, ten wen per jin, buy more, get more free!”

“Wow, you’re really running a wholesale operation!” Feng Xue thought to himself, but he couldn’t judge whether the price was high or low—his modern-world pricing sense had been thoroughly scrambled by this world’s economy. If ten buns cost a jin, it was cheap; but considering a villa could be rented for three hundred wen a month—well, unless the jade was all shards or discolored, muddy, or stiff, the price was fairly normal.

Even ignoring the old man’s suggestion of cultivating goodwill, simply the man’s status meant Feng Xue had to pay—might as well treat it as protection money!

After all, he wasn’t short on cash!

Thinking this, Feng Xue pulled out three strings of cash:

“Give me three hundred jin!”

“Right away, sir! Hey you, go to the back courtyard and bring three sacks of scraps!”

At the shopkeeper’s order, several clerks hurried to the back courtyard and returned moments later, carrying three coarse sacks; the boss opened each one, displaying the scattered jade fragments for Feng Xue:

“Three hundred jin, not a li less—need me to deliver them to your lodging?”

“No need. Just set them down.” Feng Xue glanced at the jade’s quality—he knew the price was far too low—and didn’t care whether the weight was exact; he waved his hand, and the three sacks vanished into his Pot Heaven bag.

The boss blinked in surprise but wasn’t shocked—he reached over, took a small green jade sword from the shelf, two fingers wide and palm-length, and offered it to Feng Xue handle-first:

“I said buy more, get more—you saved me delivery fees. This little thing’s a bonus. The material’s ordinary, but useful for many rituals.”

Happy New Year’s Eve! Don’t forget to vote at month’s end!

PS: Regarding one’s Lifespan Artifact, normal people lack sufficient spiritual energy; before Dao initiation, they rarely even use spells, because restoring spiritual energy requires sacrificing lifespan. Thus, most Xuan cultivators before initiation possess only the spiritual energy naturally generated during meditation.

Under such conditions, even if one were to refine a Lifespan Artifact, it would only be nourished at the rate of natural spiritual energy recovery—taking years or even decades to complete one artifact, let alone splitting the refinement process.

As for cultivation, most newcomers don’t practice spells at all—they learn them but don’t train, due to insufficient spiritual energy. The protagonist is unusual—he wanted to use spells even as a beginner, hence his focus on control.

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(End of Chapter)