Chapter 13: Chapter Twelve: The Market

The money was substantial, but not what Liu Xiaolou needed; as for the spirit rice—the spirit herbs stored in Jinping Manor—no matter how you looked at it, it wasn’t a matter of fifty sheng of spirit rice.

The place was crowded with people; Liu Xiaolou sat for half an hour when suddenly he spotted an acquaintance—the Longshan Sanren, who had accepted the Heroic Invitation and joined the assault on Jinping Manor.

Longshan Sanren had a thick beard, making him unmistakable; after entering, he nodded and smiled at several familiar faces, then noticed Liu Xiaolou sitting in the corner, paused, and walked over slowly.

Liu Xiaolou still felt profound gratitude toward Longshan Sanren; amidst the chaos of Jinping Manor, it was Longshan Sanren who called out to him to follow, guiding him to the treasure vault, and later stood by his side, driving away thieves coveting the spirit herbs—truly offering him unwavering protection—and so he rose and bowed: “Senior.”

Longshan Sanren nodded and gestured: “Follow me.”

Liu Xiaolou trailed behind him, leaving the wooden shed and arriving at the end of the alley.

Longshan Sanren gazed at the bustling wooden shed in the distance and whispered: “They didn’t find you?”

Liu Xiaolou replied: “I fled and only returned recently.”

Longshan Sanren praised: “You’re clever enough.” Then asked: “Did Wei Hongqing of Guimeng Cliff from Wulong Mountain also accept the Heroic Invitation? Why didn’t I see him that day?”

Liu Xiaolou shook his head: “No, only you and I accepted it.”

Longshan Sanren frowned: “Then why was Dongyang Mountain lingering near Guimeng Cliff before?”

Liu Xiaolou said: “Before the Heroic Assembly, he left Wulong Mountain, saying he’d wander the world. Dongyang Mountain must have mistaken someone else for him.”

Longshan Sanren nodded: “Be careful—the rumors haven’t died down. Dongyang Mountain has uncovered many. I heard Gao Feiyan and Wan Jianxin were exposed and fled Xiangnan; their whereabouts are unknown now.”

Liu Xiaolou wasn’t overly concerned; those two were major figures among Xiangnan’s hermits, well-known names—being discovered was normal. As for someone like him, nameless and obscure, who would even notice?

Longshan Sanren added: “Also, the Seventh Branch of the Pai Sect had their stronghold shattered—Lou Zhenwu was the one who did it.”

Liu Xiaolou was stunned. He’d heard the Pai Sect’s branches were always secretive, frequently relocating, and protected by powerful formation arrays—this was their confidence in joining the Heroic Assembly despite the risk of retaliation. Yet this time, Dongyang Mountain had still destroyed it. Great sects truly were great sects; one couldn’t help but admit it.

After careful thought, only Dai Sanren, who issued the Heroic Invitation, and Longshan Sanren here knew of his involvement in the Heroic Assembly. As long as those two remained unexposed, he wouldn’t be found—after all, over a hundred heroes had participated; someone as insignificant as him surely hadn’t drawn Dongyang Mountain’s attention.

“As long as you and Dai Sanren are safe, I won’t be in danger,” Liu Xiaolou replied.

Longshan Sanren understood Liu Xiaolou’s meaning and felt considerably relieved. Then he remembered Liu Xiaolou’s earlier words and asked: “You just returned?”

“Yes.”

“Then… are you here to sell…”

“Thanks to your favor, I did indeed obtain one spirit herb that day.”

“Spirit herb?” Longshan Sanren’s eyes lit up, his tone slightly tense: “What kind of spirit herb?”

“Er… I’m ashamed to say, I don’t even know its name. But this herb clearly isn’t ordinary. I urgently need spirit stones and came here hoping for luck.”

Liu Xiaolou spoke frankly, then pulled out the spirit herb for Longshan Sanren to see: “If you need it, I’ll give it to you.”

One who receives a favor must repay it; though the spirit herb was precious, it couldn’t match the debt of Longshan Sanren’s earlier aid.

At the sight of the herb, Longshan Sanren blurted out: “It’s definitely Shuizhi!”

“You recognize it?”

“Recognize it? Don’t joke—I came to the Heroic Assembly precisely because I heard the Zhang family’s vault held a Shuizhi. Who knew it ended up with you? Truly…”

“What is this used for?”

“It’s one of the eighteen spirit ingredients for refining Foundation Establishment pills.”

“Ah, congratulations, Senior! I offer this Shuizhi as a gift, wishing you swift Foundation Establishment.” He presented the herb.

Longshan Sanren didn’t refuse. Foundation Establishment pills were exceedingly rare on the market; major sects used every pill they refined. At his Qi Refining tenth layer, he was on the verge of attempting Foundation Establishment, but had nowhere to buy the pills—he could only gather the ingredients himself. Now he’d acquired another ingredient; why would he pretend to decline?

After a moment’s thought, he pulled two spirit stones and a wooden box from his robe and handed them to Liu Xiaolou: “I’m ashamed—I don’t have many spirit stones. I’m taking advantage of you, but I’ll repay you later. By the way, this box of Pine Resin Essence suits your Sanxuan Sect perfectly—it’s a small token from me.”

Liu Xiaolou didn’t refuse either. He took the spirit stones and the small wooden box, opened it, and saw a three-inch square piece of pine resin inside, its fragrance faintly tinged with age—Pine Resin Essence.

This was the primary ingredient for one of Sanxuan Sect’s Three Supreme Arts: the Mysterious Incense Veins. Since his master’s passing, Liu Xiaolou had lost access to it; the last of his Mysterious Incense Veins had long been used up. He had no idea when he could refine more and restore his sect’s glory—yet here he was, gifted one piece today.

“Senior… you seem quite familiar with my sect?” Liu Xiaolou asked, blinking.

Longshan Sanren sighed: “I was a bosom friend of your master.”

“Bosom friend” was a common phrase among Wulong Mountain hermits; Liu Xiaolou felt no deep emotion toward it, but clearly Longshan Sanren had some connection with his master, Master Sanxuan—otherwise he wouldn’t have gifted Pine Resin Essence.

Longshan Sanren continued on to other markets, tirelessly seeking the remaining ingredients for the Foundation Establishment pill. After gathering them, he’d still need to find someone to refine it—that was the true, insurmountable hurdle. Whether he’d ultimately succeed was no concern of Liu Xiaolou’s.

Yet before leaving, Liu Xiaolou endured a profound inner torment.

He saw someone selling spirit pills; many clustered around the seller, asking about the effects of these few pills!

After listening quietly beside them for a while, he understood: these were healing pills refined by the Lu family of Tianmu Mountain. Any non-fatal wound could be slowed in progression if severe, or instantly healed if minor.

For hermits constantly embroiled in life-or-death battles, such pills held immense appeal.

The seller had only three. Each pill sold for two spirit stones. The price was low for such efficacy—even suspiciously low. The pills were clearly illicit, and the seller was desperate to offload them.

Liu Xiaolou smelled the pill’s fragrance and nearly bought one several times, only to slump back each time—true torment. Many hermits, like him, stood nearby, each suffering in silence.

The torment finally ended: a Zhaolong Sect outer disciple passed by, drawn by the commotion, squeezed into the crowd, tossed down six spirit stones, and walked off with a smug grin, as if he’d scored a bargain.

Amid a chorus of curses, the crowd dispersed.