Chapter 89

Wang Yu did not return to his cave dwelling but went directly to the Spirit Goods Pavilion.

When he emerged again, the silver hammer and golden ring artifacts, along with the five-colored glass, had vanished from his storage pouch; in their place, five hundred spirit stones now rested inside.

There was no choice—he had tried selling these two artifacts multiple times in the Small Inner Bazaar and failed to sell them; now pressed for funds, he could only offload them at a thirty percent discount to the Spirit Goods Pavilion.

But this was not surprising: unlike the inferior standard artifacts used by outside cultivators, artifacts used by Four Symbols Sect disciples were at least mid-grade or higher quality, and some inner sect disciples with ample spirit stones even commissioned specialized personal artifacts from artificers tailored to their cultivation techniques.

This was one reason why sect disciples could easily crush outside cultivators despite identical cultivation levels.

Wang Yu had once been tempted to visit the Artificer Hall and inquired about custom artifact pricing.

The duty artificer there had replied haughtily that custom artifacts above entry-grade started at a thousand spirit stones, with the cultivator bearing all material costs, a one-year waiting list, and only half the fee refunded if the crafting failed.

He turned on his heel and left immediately, abandoning any thought of commissioning a personal artifact from the Artificer Hall.

But if hiring others to craft artifacts was unprofitable, what if he learned artificing himself and crafted his own tailored artifact?

After all, artificers made enormous profits—becoming one would solve his artifact problem and earn him vast quantities of spirit stones.

Pondering this, Wang Yu glanced at the darkening sky and immediately mounted his mechanical bird, flying straight toward a small valley nestled among the mountains.

The valley was small, no more than a few dozen mu in size, nestled deep within a dense forest, making it quite secluded.

Wang Yu landed the mechanical bird on a clearing in the valley’s center, leapt down, and retracted it.

The valley had only two intersecting paths forming a cross; at their center stood a dozen or so irregularly sized pavilions, alongside over thirty makeshift wooden huts clearly hastily constructed.

Wang Yu ignored the wooden huts and headed straight for one of the pavilions in the center, familiar with the route.

Inside the pavilion’s ground-floor hall, two young women with similar features, dressed in outer sect robes, were speaking with a stout, middle-aged woman behind the counter.

“Auntie Li, we’ve been your loyal customers for years—please give us a better price on the first-grade Spirit Pearl Rice.”

“Yes, Auntie Li—if you lower the price just a little, we’ll buy several jin at once.”

The two slender, pretty women spoke in turn.

“No,” the middle-aged woman crossed her arms and shook her head firmly. “Our young master said this year’s Li family spirit rice harvest was poor; selling even this batch at a discount to sect disciples is already out of fellow-disciple goodwill.”

Hearing this, the two young women still refused to give up and continued haggling.

“Young Master Wang, you’ve come!” At that moment, the woman spotted Wang Yu entering and immediately abandoned the two women, beaming at him.

“Auntie Li, I’d like fifty jin of spirit rice and twenty jin of entry-grade beast meat—preferably soaked in medicinal wine,” Wang Yu said politely.

Though the woman appeared to have no profound cultivation, she was backed by the Li family, the most powerful vassal clan of the Four Symbols Sect.

The Li family possessed several Foundation Establishment cultivators and even had a direct-line disciple who became a True Disciple of Mount Qinglong; the sect’s higher-ups naturally turned a blind eye to her small shop in the Small Inner Bazaar.

Most other shops here operated the same way.

Either they were backed by powerful families or by True Disciples or powerful inner sect disciples—otherwise, they could not survive long.

Of course, he had learned all this from Zhou Chu; last time, he had bought large quantities of spirit rice and beast meat here, which was why Auntie Li greeted him so warmly.

Upon hearing the quantity Wang Yu wanted, the woman’s wrinkles spread into a wide smile:

“Good, good! Young Master Wang, wait a moment—I’ll give you a ten percent discount. Someone, prepare Young Master Wang’s goods!”

She called out behind her, and immediately someone upstairs responded; moments later, a burly human attendant carried down a sack of spirit rice and half a sack of beast meat.

Wang Yu took them, weighed them in both hands, confirmed the weight was correct, and stowed them in his storage pouch; then he pulled out two blue mid-grade spirit stones and handed them to the woman.

The spirit stones he had just acquired shrank by nearly half—though it pained him to spend them, he knew he must, for daily nourishment of his body and cultivation of internal Qi to ensure smoother future cultivation.

The two young women beside him, seeing Wang Yu spend two hundred spirit stones on such a large quantity of spirit rice and beast meat, stared wide-eyed.

They themselves bought spirit rice and beast meat in quantities of just a few or a dozen jin—how could they ever afford to spend so much at once?

“Young Master Wang, would you like anything else? Recently, the shop received a few jin of special-prepared tea leaves—drinking them refreshes the spirit and aids in comprehending spells and cultivation techniques. Only one hundred spirit stones per jin,” Auntie Li continued promoting other goods.

“Thank you, but I’m focused on cultivation—these items aren’t needed for now,” Wang Yu replied, though tempted, and shook his head before leaving the pavilion.

After exiting, he did not fly away immediately but walked toward a corner of the valley, where a solitary small stone hut stood, with several people coming and going.

From afar, these people were men and women alike; one even wore inner sect robes, yet their expressions varied—some beamed with joy, others frowned in distress, and one even cursed as he left.

Wang Yu waited at a distance until everyone had departed and no one else approached the stone hut, then quietly walked over and pushed open the door.

“Ah, it’s Young Master Wang—are you here about what you asked last time?” Inside, the hut held only a table, a chair, and a bookshelf; seated on the chair was a plain-looking young man who smiled upon seeing Wang Yu.

“Brother Wan, I paid ten spirit stones last time I came; now a month has passed, so I’ve come to see if there’s any news,” Wang Yu asked neutrally.

The man before him, named Wan Shan, was an inner sect disciple of White Tiger Mountain, rumored to be the Four Symbols Sect’s most well-connected informant; he ran a gossip shop in the Small Inner Bazaar, specializing in brokered information, and was said to have amassed a fortune in spirit stones.

When Wang Yu had last visited the Small Inner Bazaar, he had specifically sought him out to inquire about something.

“Young Master Wang, rest assured—I’ve kept your matter in mind. Regarding your wish to learn artificing, I’ve gathered three leads, but none seemed suitable for you, so I didn’t notify you yet,” Wan Shan said with a smile.

“Oh? Tell me, I’ll listen,” Wang Yu replied indifferently.

“One is a wandering artificer who recently arrived at Guangyuan Bazaar—he’s willing to take on apprentices, but his fee is steep: three hundred spirit stones per apprentice, non-negotiable, and he only teaches the crafting of one type of entry-grade artifact—so it’s quite useless,” Wan Shan said calmly.

“Guangyuan Bazaar is too far—I don’t want to leave the sect,” Wang Yu shook his head.

“Another is the Yu family of Tian Shui Lake—they’ve just been expelled from the sect and are preparing to leave Tongzhou; they’re selling their entire family’s complete entry-grade artificing lineage for two thousand spirit stones,” Wan Shan added with a smile.