Chapter twenty-one: Qinglin Market

The morning mist enveloped Qinglin Market, with blue mountains faintly visible in the distance and towering trees surrounding the area, creating a mysterious and oppressive atmosphere. At the foot of the mountains, rows of shanties stood, constructed from thick timber, giving the environment a cramped and suffocating feel. Wastewater flowed freely at the entrance, releasing a pungent odor.

"Is this Qinglin Market? Quite a misnomer..." Fang Xing frowned slightly. Dressed in a blue robe with his hair tied up high, he carried a basket on his back, his face disguised to appear harmless, blending in with the locals.

He secretly controlled a realistic yellow sparrow, which quietly settled into the basket. Today's exploration was meticulously planned. He had mapped out multiple escape routes, wore a basic nano-protective suit, and had an electric baton at his waist, fully armed.

"Is this a cultivation market or a slum?" he pondered as he walked into the shantytown. The foul smell hit him as he navigated the muddy path overgrown with weeds, revealing bones that were chillingly human, even showing a severed leg bone.

"My goodness..." He was shocked to find a fresh corpse lying around the corner, devoid of flesh. The passersby rushed by, some casting curious glances from between the wooden slats, seemingly accustomed to the sight.

"Living in such an environment must bring immense mental pressure!" Fang Xing thought, his gaze fixed ahead as a tall, thin middle-aged man approached, clad in a gray robe that shimmered faintly with spiritual energy.

"A robe? A cultivator?" His heart stirred, and he hurriedly imitated nearby warriors, stepping aside to give way. Some warriors even bent deeply in greeting, their expressions reverent.

"If I don't yield, will I be killed?" Fang Xing mused, his mood heavy as he stepped out of the shantytown and walked uphill.

The path wound through the mountains, paved with blue stone slabs occasionally covered in moss, revealing a different charm. Upon reaching halfway up the mountain, Fang Xing caught sight of a series of buildings that looked much more organized, with stone slabs laid on the ground, appearing considerably cleaner.

He pressed on, spotting an archway with the words "Qinglin Market" inscribed. Entering the market, he noticed the crowd had increased significantly, and the stalls lining the road were bustling with a variety of goods. Exotic flowers, dew-kissed vegetables, wild animal skins and bones, and piles of white rice filled the stalls.

"Is this bartering or using spiritual sand?" Fang Xing observed coldly as he noted the frequent use of a substance called "spiritual sand" among the traders.

He continued to wander through the stalls and came across many shops—Qingdan Pavilion, Baibao Pavilion, Huo Lian Pavilion, Xiao Fu Hall, and Ting Yu Tower—each with unique names that often required guessing to understand their offerings. He lingered in front of Ting Yu Tower, where faint music seemed to drift by, drawing his attention.

"This way, young sir! Only one piece of spiritual stone for a try!" a charming woman waved him over, her eyes glimmering seductively. Fang Xing feigned shyness but secretly thought, "Spiritual stones must be the higher currency compared to spiritual sand?"

Half an hour later, Fang Xing found himself at a stall, pointing at a red jade-like herb and asking, "How much for this 'Zhulong Herb'?"

The vendor, an old farmer, was smoking a pipe. Upon hearing Fang Xing's question, he casually knocked the pipe against the stone slab, replying lazily, "Two spiritual sands per root... but if you're selling it to me, it's only one spiritual sand per root."

"How do you know?" Fang Xing's heart raced, and he showed a hint of panic.

"Heh, I can smell the herbs in your basket from a distance, thinking to sell high?" The old man smirked.

"You truly have a discerning eye," Fang Xing chuckled, feeling pleased with himself as he had prepared twenty roots of Zhulong Herb for this market visit.

"Zhulong Herb is only useful for Qi-refining cultivators... we warriors just earn our meager living," the old man continued. "Recently, the market prices have risen; it usually takes two or three roots for one spiritual sand."

"I'll think about it..." Fang Xing shook his head and blended back into the crowd.

"This world's people have such low standards; I really can't trust them..." he murmured to himself, ultimately deciding to trade at a reputable shop.

At that moment, he heard a loud shout that caught his attention. Approaching the stall, he saw a middle-aged man in a robe calling out, "Wind Talisman, Fire Rain Talisman, Golden Bell Talisman, Spirit Detection Talisman… come and take a look!"

"Wind Talisman, stick it on your leg, and you'll move like the wind—an essential for traveling, selling cheap at only one spiritual stone each," the vendor proclaimed confidently.

"Fire Rain Talisman, a first-tier low-grade attack talisman, five spiritual sands," he continued to shout, raising his voice.

"Spirit Detection Talisman can detect spiritual roots; without a spiritual root, one cannot cultivate—everyone should try it, it can change your fate for just eight spiritual sands!" At this, Fang Xing's heart raced, his gaze shifting to the final "Golden Bell Talisman."

"A first-tier medium-grade—Golden Bell Talisman, can withstand several attacks from Qi-refining mid-stage cultivators, a true gem, only selling for three spiritual stones!" The vendor boasted.

Fang Xing silently mused, "Ten spiritual sands can be exchanged for one spiritual stone; this vendor's words are intriguing."

He squeezed through the crowd, comparing several shops before finally choosing "Qingdan Pavilion." This pill shop appeared particularly trustworthy, and the green leaf emblem at its entrance made him feel at ease.

"This guest, what kind of pills do you need?" A girl with bright eyes and a fair complexion greeted him as he entered, her expression entirely devoid of disdain.

"I want to sell herbs... do you buy Zhulong Herb?" Fang Xing asked.

"Of course, we buy them for one spiritual sand each. How many do you have?" The girl looked hopeful.

"Just these..." Fang Xing took out twenty roots of Zhulong Herb from his basket. After checking, the girl said, "Freshly picked, the medicinal properties are still good... a total of twenty spiritual sands, how do you find it?"

"Sounds good!" Fang Xing nodded, feeling a surge of joy. The girl collected the Zhulong Herb and handed him two crystals.

"Low-grade spiritual stones?" His eyes sparkled with excitement as he took them, feeling a cool energy in his palm.

"Is there anything else you need?" The girl smiled warmly.

"A Qi Blood Pill..." Fang Xing hesitated for a moment before asking, "What's the price?"

"The Qi Blood Pill is quite cheap, only one spiritual stone per bottle," the girl chuckled.

"I'll take one!" Fang Xing wasted no time handing over the spiritual stone, receiving a delicate jade bottle in return, feeling fortunate inside.

Exiting Qingdan Pavilion, Fang Xing felt uplifted, his gaze scanning the stalls as he contemplated his next move. He knew that Qinglin Market was not just a place for trading but also a crucial step in his exploration of the cultivation world.