Chapter 66

66. Chapter 66: On Going Live

“Fine, continue!”

Fang Xing sighed, watching the old man pick up the pair of gauntlets.

“First-rank high-grade artifact, forged from ‘Solar Spirit Iron.’ Unfortunately, its usage range is narrow—only suitable for body cultivators… The gauntlets have minor damage; one line of the ‘Rushan’ array is broken. Worth seven hundred and fifty lower-grade spirit stones.”

The old man picked up the gauntlets, pondered a moment, then gave his price, and carefully lifted the Qing Que Sword:

“First-rank high-grade flying sword, blade intact, well-maintained, inscribed with the ‘Sharp Metal’ and ‘Wind Defiance’ major arrays… Worth nine hundred spirit stones!”

The more he looked, the more he muttered to himself—these two high-grade artifacts looked suspiciously like those belonging to the two infamous raiders.

Had he underpriced them earlier?

…

Fang Xing gave a slight nod.

Though he remembered the auction price for that set of high-grade Iron Feather Swords had been several thousand spirit stones, the circumstances were clearly different.

The Iron Feather Swords weren’t just a set—they were top-tier among top-tier, capable of forming a sword array, rivaling top-rank artifacts.

Add to that the bidding frenzy at the auction, and the high price was only natural.

Normally, a high-grade artifact sold for five hundred to a thousand spirit stones.

This first-rank high-grade ‘Qing Que Sword’ was not only well-maintained but also a type of artifact highly sought after by cultivators—its market value in a regular marketplace would have been at least a thousand spirit stones.

But given the current situation, he had to accept whatever the man said.

Still, Fang Xing was certain the man was still making a profit—even a substantial one!

Too bad, as always: artifacts were useless to him, unless they were blood-tempered.

He’d tested the Qing Que Sword—without channeling spiritual energy, its raw sharpness was only slightly better than the Ink Pattern Sword; still a piece of junk!

Now, hearing the appraisal, he finally understood.

‘So flying swords rely not just on their sharpness, but on array seals embedded within the blade to enhance power… I keep feeling this world is targeting me…’

At last, the old man finished his inventory: “Sir, we only accept ‘Fire Lie ’ and ‘Ancient Green Vine’ herbs. Combined, I can offer you two thousand one hundred and seventy-two lower-grade spirit stones…”

“Fine.”

Fang Xing nodded, his gaze flicking over the old man’s stall, settling on a tiger-head longsword: “Fine blade…”

The blade was heavy—about thirty to forty jin—but in Fang Xing’s hands, it felt as light as a feather, easily swung: “What’s its name?”

“Excellent eye, sir. This blade is called ‘Tiger Malice,’ forged from the spine of a demon tiger and a hundred Sha iron hammers—it’s a blood-tempered artifact. Only one hundred lower-grade spirit stones.” The old man’s eyes gleamed as he explained.

“Bought!”

Fang Xing now had plenty of spirit stones and spent them without hesitation.

To him, a blood-tempered artifact like this was far more useful than any high-grade artifact.

“Done…”

The old man smiled, counting out twenty peculiar five-colored crystal stones and handing them over with seventy-two lower-grade spirit stones: “Please take care, sir…”

‘Mid-grade spirit stones…’

Fang Xing had only heard of them before; supposedly, one could be exchanged for a hundred lower-grade spirit stones.

Now holding one, he felt the intense, dense spiritual energy within—his heart stirred: ‘Cultivators can use spirit stones to cultivate… Too bad martial artists can’t. But if martial artists here can’t, maybe those from Blue Star can… Next time, I’ll toss a few lower-grade spirit stones into the black market and see what happens…’

This was part of Fang Xing’s earlier Shitan plan.

Coincidentally, Gu Yun had even discovered strange talismans being sold in the black market—possibly linked to a demon god…

Due to her father’s ties, Gu Yun despised anything connected to demon gods. Upon hearing this, she immediately investigated the black market and obtained a lower-grade Jin Guang Talisman, sending it to the Faith Theory Department for testing.

Fang Xing planned to casually ask about the test results after winter break.

As the informant and insider—and one of their own—the Faith Theory Department’s manager, Bai Ziling, would surely inform Gu Yun.

Which was as good as informing Fang Xing himself!

‘It might feel like using a friend, but I’m certain these cultivation items pose no danger… I’ll make it up to her later.’

At that moment, he calmly tucked the spirit stones away, sensing hostile glances around him—yet he sneered inwardly: ‘Here come more spirit stones again…’

Fang Xing stood, not leaving immediately, but strolled casually through the market.

After all, stall owners here weren’t permanent—they came and went; in just this short time, several new stalls had appeared in the cave.

Fang Xing approached a stall displaying lifelike puppets, like dolls: “How much for this?”

The puppets were either animal or bird mechanisms, or humanoid figures—all no larger than a palm, shimmering with spiritual light, quite impressive.

“If you know these are puppets, you should know that without a cultivator’s spiritual awareness, they’re impossible to control…”

The puppet seller, wearing a wide-brimmed hat that obscured most of his face, replied irritably.

Martial artists were despised in the cultivation world—even primordial martial artists!

Among the hundred arts of cultivation, martial artists mostly used talismans—but even primordial qi could only activate at most a first-rank mid-grade talisman. At first-rank high-grade, they were completely cut off.

Higher second-rank talismans? Even mid- to late-stage qi condensation cultivators struggled to activate them, draining most of their spiritual energy and risking self-injury upon activation. As for martial artists? Dream on.

Pills were much the same: if a martial artist forcibly swallowed a high-grade spirit pill, they’d die with ruptured intestines—equally cut off from second-rank pills.

Artifacts were worse: forget all except blood-tempered ones!

Arrays, the foremost of cultivation arts, involved nothing martial artists could touch—whether crafting array flags or discs, or setting up arrays. The only use for a primordial martial artist was to infuse low-grade array flags with qi—saving maybe half a grain of spirit sand.

Puppets were even worse: without a cultivator’s spiritual energy to activate them and spiritual awareness to control them, buying one meant you just had a toy.

“I’m not a cultivator, but I have disciples and friends…” Fang Xing picked up a mechanical bird: “How much for this puppet?”

“First-rank low-grade puppet. If you like it, I’ll give you a discount—fifteen spirit stones, take it!”

The seller glanced at Fang Xing seriously.

“Bought!”

Fang Xing pulled out a pile of lower-grade spirit stones with grand gesture, placing the toy bird in his palm.

The mechanical bird was made of wood, painted with five-colored feathers, and etched with fine array patterns.

As he walked, he tried channeling primordial qi into it—only to find it vanished like mud into the sea, possibly even damaging the puppet…

‘Of course it doesn’t work…’

Fang Xing thought inwardly, yet his purchase of this puppet had other intentions.

‘The Puyu Realm equals primordial martial artists—the peak of this world… but I still have a path!’

‘If I break through to the Courage Realm, open the Niwan Palace, and gain spiritual power… maybe I can try controlling it? Perhaps it’ll work?’

Then, this puppet would make an excellent experimental subject.

‘Hmm?’

After circling the market a few times, Fang Xing was about to leave when he spotted a petite, adorable female cultivator setting up a stall—his eyes lit up.

Seeing the small banner she displayed, bearing the Qing Dan Fang’s Green Leaf seal, his confidence grew—he hurried over: “Miss Xiao Rui…”

“Who are you?”

Xiao Rui looked up, clearly not recognizing Fang Xing in disguise.

“Hehe, I once bought several bottles of pills from you, Miss Xiao Rui. Not remembering is understandable… Are these items here genuine Qing Dan Fang products?”

Fang Xing eyed the jars and vials.

“Of course. The jade bottles and spirit-sealing talismans are intact—you may inspect them freely…”

Xiao Rui gestured for him to examine them.

“No need, I trust you, sir…”

Fang Xing’s gaze flickered—he’d already cataloged every pill. He asked seriously: “Do you carry Tiger Marrow Pills? And ‘Qi-Replenishing Pills’ suitable for primordial martial artists? Ten bottles of each!”

Xiao Rui’s face brightened instantly.

This was a major customer.

Not only rich in spirit stones, but also carrying so many herbs—clearly a top-tier herb gatherer, possibly backed by a whole gathering group.

‘Could it be the Medicine King Guild?’

Xiao Rui thought inwardly, picking up one of Fang Xing’s herbs and offering a price: “Corrode-Immortal Herb. Normally three spirit stones per herb, but with current supply shortages, I’ll add five spirit sands…”

In the end, Fang Xing handed over nearly all his herb bundle to Xiao Rui—and still had to pay extra spirit stones, forcing him to inwardly marvel at the pill-makers’ profits.

‘Walking through this market, the greed in the air feels almost solid…’

Fang Xing found a quiet corner in the marketplace, sat cross-legged, and placed the newly bought ‘Tiger Malice’ blade on his knees, sneering inwardly.

Now, he pressed his hand to the blade, slowly channeling Puyu internal energy—primordial qi.

As primordial qi flowed in, he gradually forged the blood-tempered artifact, learning its use.

‘Tiger Malice Blade: once filled with primordial qi, it can fly—but no farther than a hundred steps from its master. Its power equals a standard low-grade artifact…’

‘Additionally, a ‘Wind Blade Technique’ array is inscribed on the blade. When filled with primordial qi, it can unleash a ‘Wind Blade’—its power comparable to Wind Blade Spell…’

At this moment, he pressed his hand to the blade, slowly channeling Puyu inner breath—the primordial true qi.

After truly forging a blood-tempered artifact, Fang Xing suddenly realized his decision not to blood-temper the Ink Pattern Sword had been correct.

‘Primordial masters wielding blood-tempered artifacts are roughly equivalent to early-stage qi condensation cultivators using low-grade artifacts… This trash? I could kill ten with one slash!’

Now, if Fang Xing wielded the Tiger Malice Blade and unleashed the Ghost God Sword Technique, his speed and power far surpassed any blood-tempered artifact.

Martial artists are martial artists—imitating cultivation arts is just a clumsy imitation.

Unless… the blood-tempered artifact’s power rivals a first-rank high-grade artifact, or has some special function—then maybe he’d give it a second look.

A pre-natural expert wielding a blood-refined artifact is roughly equivalent to a Foundation Establishment cultivator using a low-grade artifact... this kind of trash, I can kill ten with one slash!

If Fang Xing now wields the Tiger Demon Blade and unleashes the Ghost and God Sword Art, his speed and power far surpass those of someone controlling a blood-refined artifact.

A martial artist is still a martial artist; imitating cultivation techniques is merely a clumsy imitation.

Unless... the power of a blood-refined artifact rivals that of a high-grade first-rank artifact, or possesses some special function, would it warrant a second glance from him.

So, I really am suited only to charge forward and swing my blade at people?

Fang Xing suddenly felt a deep sense of melancholy.

Then he saw a group of people approaching— their target was unmistakably him.