Chapter 69: 69. Chapter 69: Jin Yu (In Honor of the New Alliance Leader Who Bought Nothing but Loneliness)

69. Chapter 69: Jin Yu (In Honor of the New Alliance Leader Who Bought Nothing but Loneliness)

Chick Hawk Star.

Inside the bedroom.

Fang Xing lay on the bed, a sense of peace rising from within.

Recalling the second-rank flying beast he had just seen, his eyes narrowed slightly: “Second-rank beasts vary among themselves… This one exerted a far greater pressure than the last one I encountered… Perhaps it’s mid-rank or even high-rank second-rank?”

He had once seen a Foundation Establishment cultivator in the marketplace easily kill a second-rank beast.

But Fang Xing believed that if this beast had been the target, the Qingxuan Sect’s elder stationed at the marketplace would have fled in panic!

Even worse, due to its flight speed, it might not even be possible to escape!

“At my current level, I’m still not qualified to fight a second-rank beast… not even a low-rank one…”

Fang Xing had a clear understanding of his own strength.

Among Qi Condensation cultivators, he was certainly very strong—capable of sweeping aside most, as long as he didn’t face an exceptionally overpowered one.

But facing a Foundation Establishment cultivator, or being surrounded by late-stage or full-stage Qi Condensation cultivators, he’d be in grave danger.

Foundation Establishment cultivators had awakened their spiritual sense, greatly enhancing their intuitive awareness of danger—even if he used his laser gun, he couldn’t guarantee a kill.

If the first laser shot missed, he’d lose his stealth advantage, making subsequent hits nearly impossible—the enemy couldn’t dodge the laser beam, but could dodge the gun’s muzzle!

Second-rank beasts had thick hides and immense vitality—making them even harder to deal with.

Precisely because of this, Fang Xing had waited several days on Chick Hawk Star before daring to return to Qinglin Marketplace.

Upper-grade cave dwelling.

Everything in the basement remained unchanged.

“Oh? It seems this second-rank beast’s spiritual sense is sharp—it didn’t detect any life signs here, so it didn’t come…”

Not having to move out, Fang Xing was very satisfied.

Over the next few days, he followed his usual routine: consuming spirit rice and taking pills to train.

Although overuse of pills caused toxic buildup, when he ascended to the Puyu Realm, he had undergone a tendon-renewing and marrow-washing transformation, expelling most of the accumulated impurities from his body.

Moreover, the Puyu Realm’s internal qi flowed continuously, refining his five organs and six viscera, granting him far greater tolerance to pill toxins than in his previous two realms.

Added to that, Fang Xing carefully controlled his dosage, keeping it within his body’s limits—his Wu Gong advanced rapidly while his foundation remained exceptionally solid…

…

“Fu Hu Zhu has progressed rapidly… but Long Xiang Gong has stalled due to lack of Whale-Elephant Paste…”

Several days later, Fang Xing glanced at his attribute panel, slightly disappointed: “I need to prioritize finding a substitute for Whale-Elephant Paste.”

On Chick Hawk Star, even if substitutes existed, he had no access, connections, or sufficient star yuan.

But here, the problem was clearly manageable.

Morning.

Fang Xing, as usual, wore a black robe covering his face, blending into the thick fog.

Occasionally, scattered figures emerged from ruins and basements, all similarly cloaked and armed with artifacts and talismans, watching everyone with wary eyes.

“These cultivators in this world are just unfriendly…”

He mentally grumbled, heading toward the Ghost Market.

This place was once the old stall area, later abandoned—only a few cultivators dared to trade here during morning fog, when beasts were less likely to detect them.

Today’s fog was unusually dense; beyond three meters, no one was visible.

“Feels strange… could this be some special effect of a formation? Or a formation master adapting to the conditions?”

Fang Xing reached a stall and found it displayed nothing but mundane rice.

“How about it? Cheap—ten spirit stones for twenty catties…”

The vendor was a Qi Condensation cultivator, likely only early-stage, smiling broadly.

“Before the marketplace collapsed, ten catties of spirit rice cost one spirit stone…”

Fang Xing was speechless.

Though Qi Condensation cultivators couldn’t sustain long-term fasting, look at this—how desperate had they become?

“Ah, what was life like back then? What is it like now?”

The vendor sighed heavily: “Just having something to eat is good enough… Wait until the remaining supplies in these ruins are gone, then come back!”

Fang Xing knew well: all spirit fields beyond the marketplace had been abandoned; next year would be even worse.

These cultivators clung on despite the risk of occasional second-rank beast hunts because: first, the wilderness outside was even worse, with equal chances of encountering high-rank beasts.

Second, the marketplace ruins still held some supplies; scavenging occasionally yielded rewards.

Even if beasts came, there were many people—surely it wouldn’t be their turn, thanks to Jiaoxing psychology!

Third, perhaps the faint hope that major sects might one day reclaim this place.

He shook his head and walked toward another stall.

“Big brother, wanna have some fun?”

At a street corner stood several elegant female cultivators, dressed provocatively; seeing Fang Xing’s sturdy, robust frame with no sign of weakness, their eyes gleamed: “I used to work at Tingyu Pavilion, skilled in the Seventy-Two Postures of Dongxuanzi, the Nine Transformations of Fish-Dragon, and the Spring Battle Techniques… I’ll make you forget everything else—just give me a few catties of spirit rice or fasting pills…”

“Hmm, prices have plummeted since before…” Fang Xing nodded inwardly, walking past without glancing aside.

He was here to stroll and search for Whale-Elephant Paste substitutes—not to be distracted by trivialities.

“Clearly, this Ghost Market won’t do… next time, I’ll go straight to the Cave Black Market…”

Just as Fang Xing thought today would yield nothing, he halted before a stall.

The stall displayed a few vials of pills—rarely seen in the Ghost Market.

Though the pills were common, in this environment, they were already quite good.

The vendor was an elderly cultivator, his black wood hairpin broken halfway, his spirit robe tattered, looking utterly destitute.

Yet he still carried an air of pride, a faint medicinal fragrance clinging to him, revealing his identity as an alchemist.

“Him? Wan Fenglin… this old bastard is still alive?”

Fang Xing stared at the clearly fallen Wan Fenglin, surprised.

During the First Five Scorpion Valley battle, he had been outmaneuvered and barely escaped using a life-saving talisman, one of the first eliminated.

After Chen Yi and Hei Hu Bang’s internal conflict, he was no longer involved.

But Fang Xing assumed Hei Hu Bang wouldn’t let him live—yet here he was.

He didn’t know Wan Fenglin had nearly been driven to death, even captured by Hei Hu Bang—until Qingxuan Sect intervened, suppressed Hei Hu Bang, and their leader was slain by a Golden Core true cultivator, dissolving the entire gang and giving Wan Fenglin a chance to escape.

But his cultivation had been shattered; now he’d regressed to Qi Condensation Layer Three, and with the marketplace disaster, he barely scraped by, barely able to afford his own clothes.

“Friend, would you like to buy pills? This ‘Bu Jin Dan’ rapidly heals any wound, and this ‘Chun Hua Dan’—take it regularly, and you’ll retain youth forever…”

Wan Fenglin didn’t recognize Fang Xing’s altered form and masked face, enthusiastically promoting his pills.

Fang Xing glanced—pure trash.

No wonder he’d sunk further.

He thought for a moment, pulled out the box that once held Whale-Elephant Paste—the ointment was gone, but residual essence remained, enough for an alchemist to identify its properties: “I used this kind of body-refining ointment before. Do you have any substitutes?”

Wan Fenglin took it, sniffed slightly, and his expression changed: “This essence is incredibly fierce… I misjudged you. You’re not a martial artist—you’re a body cultivator, even a late-stage Qi Condensation body cultivator. Your qi-concealing technique is truly exceptional.”

“You got that right!”

Fang Xing crossed his arms, coldly: “So?”

“This substance is too fierce—it likely contains second-rank spirit herbs and second-rank beast flesh. I can’t think of a substitute—even Qingdan Workshop might not have one…”

Wan Fenglin sighed and returned the empty box.

“I see… well then…”

Fang Xing shook his head. He’d known Long Xiang Gong was hard to cultivate—but not this hard.

The required ointment involved second-rank materials!

“Do I have to kill a second-rank beast? My blood-refined weapons cut through people easily—but they barely scratch second-rank beasts…”

“Still, Wan Fenglin’s character is terrible… next time, I’ll ask Xiao Rui.”

He turned to leave, then suddenly stopped.

Honestly, Wan Fenglin had once plotted against him—he still remembered that grudge.

But seeing him so pitiful, broken, perhaps merely surviving was punishment enough.

“Friend, what else do you want?”

Wan Fenglin, startled by Fang Xing’s pause, froze.

Then he saw a lower-grade spirit stone in Fang Xing’s hand—his eyes widened.

“I’m interested in that secret realm. Since you went there before, you must know something. Tell me everything—if I’m satisfied, these spirit stones are yours…”

Fang Xing pulled out more lower-grade spirit stones, tossing them lightly in his palm.

Wan Fenglin’s face turned pale, torn between fleeing and staying, finally settling into bitter resignation: “I truly don’t know what happened in Five Scorpion Valley—I barely escaped by luck. After returning, Hei Hu Bang hunted me down, kidnapped me…”

In truth, Hei Hu Bang had thought Wan Fenglin knew secret realm secrets and was a valuable alchemist, so they spared him.

“But while in Hei Hu Bang, I heard a few rumors…”

Seeing the spirit stones flicking in Fang Xing’s hand, Wan Fenglin swallowed hard: “Someone claimed the secret realm was left behind by the ‘Wan Fa Shangren’—an extremely valuable inheritance, which drew Qingxuan Sect’s Golden Core true cultivators…”

“Wan Fa Shangren?”

Fang Xing frowned, then tossed a lower-grade spirit stone: “Continue…”

“Yes, yes…” Wan Fenglin’s eyes lit up; the secret realm was surely overrun by beasts now—useless—so selling rumors for a few spirit stones was better than nothing: “This ‘Wan Fa Shangren’ was no ordinary figure—a legendary genius from a thousand years ago. Supposedly, he had abysmal spiritual roots, yet ascended through every realm to reach Golden Core fullness…”