Chapter 14_"Jiang Cheng and the Perils of Night Markets"

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Jiang Cheng was currently in Qinglin Sect, a Jindan-level sect with considerable influence over the surrounding region.

Under its jurisdiction were four immortal cities, each overseeing three to four immortal markets.

At this moment, Jiang Cheng resided in Pushan Immortal Market, one of the many trade hubs governed by Pingyuan Immortal City.

The Qinglan Immortal Pavilion, where he had been frequenting, was guarded by foundation-building disciples of the Qinglan Sect, ensuring a safe and regulated environment for commerce.

Beyond Qinglin Sect's influence, four other Jindan-level sects existed nearby:

Pure Sword Sect – A sword cultivation sect, known for its sharp and precise sword techniques, in the east

Flower Yin Sect – A sect specializing in spiritual arts and dual cultivation techniques, in the south

Qionghua Sect A scholarly sect renowned for their alchemy and formations, in the west

Blood Moon Sect demonic sect infamous for its brutal cultivation methods, in the North

While the first three were considered orthodox sects, the Blood Moon Sect was an infamous demonic faction that often clashed with its neighbors.

As Jiang Cheng continued reading in the Qinglan Immortal Pavilion, he discovered valuable insights about cultivation techniques and spells.

In the world of immortal cultivation, skills—meaning cultivation techniques—were not as rare as one might think. High-level cultivators frequently created new techniques, passing them down through sects, families, and factions. This resulted in an abundance of techniques with varying attributes and effects.

The average price of a basic cultivation technique was around 100 spirit stones—not particularly expensive. However, sects and aristocratic families often sold their own techniques at significantly lower prices within their sphere of influence.

For instance, Qinglan Jue, the technique Jiang Cheng practiced, was originally created by a powerful cultivator of Qinglan Sect. It could be cultivated to Golden Core Perfection, yet within Qinglan Sect's territory, a Qi training-level Qinglan Jue only cost one spirit stone .

This was not out of generosity—it was a calculated strategy.

Why Do Sects Sell Techniques So Cheaply?

1. Resource Dependency – The more one advanced in a sect's technique, the more reliant they became on the sect's exclusive cultivation resources. Without these, progress would slow to a crawl.

2 Recruitment – Casual cultivators who reached the Foundation Establishment stage would find joining the sect to be the best option. Their cultivation method was already tailored to the sect's resources, making it easier to integrate.

3. Monopolization of Higher-Level Spells – While basic Qi training-level techniques were cheap and widely available, more powerful techniques and spells were tightly controlled by sects and aristocratic families.

Jiang Cheng learned that spells were even more restricted than cultivation techniques.

While basic Qi training spells could be purchased freely, Foundation Establishment-level spells and beyond were rarely sold to outsiders. Only those affiliated with sects or aristocratic families could acquire complete sets of high-level spells.

Moreover, purchasing a spell was a strictly individual transaction. The jade slips were enchanted to prevent knowledge from being passed down or copied.

This explained why Ruan Xue had left without further instruction—she knew the jade slips' restrictions ensured that only Jiang Cheng could use what he had bought.

For several days, Jiang Cheng followed a steady routine.

- Each morning, he tended to his spiritual field, casting the Spirit Rain Technique to nurture his crops.

- He visited the Qinglan Immortal Pavilion, reading through books on cultivation history, sect politics, and spiritual resources.

As he absorbed more knowledge, he deepened his understanding of the cultivation world—its power structures, hidden rules, and economic strategies.

Despite his growing awareness, he did not forget his primary source of income—selling talismans.

After finishing everything, Jiang Cheng walked into the Qinglan Immortal Pavilion, where Ruan Xue was behind the counter, her head slightly tilted as she appeared lost in thought.

"Fellow Daoist Ruan," Jiang Cheng called out, a light smile on his face. "I've finished all the things I need."

Ruan Xue looked up, blinking as if coming out of a trance. She smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling. "Congratulations fellow Daoist Jiang"

Jiang Cheng clasped his hands. "Thank you, fellow Daoist, for your help these past days."

Ruan Xue waved her hand dismissively. It's just a small matter. Don't mention it."

Jiang Cheng chuckled, then said, "I almost forgot! Fellow Daoist, do you have any high-grade spirit weapons for sale? Preferably a sword—one imbued with elemental properties, if possible."

Ruan Xue raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Brother Jiang, are you preparing to overthrow a sect? Or perhaps you've been hired as an elder's bodyguard?"

Jiang Cheng coughed. "I'm just… preparing for the future."

Ruan Xue rested her chin on her hand, looking at him with mock seriousness. "I see, I see. 'Preparation.

She loughed and led him to a section filled with various spirit weapons.

Ruan Xue picked up a curved blade.

This is the Stormfire Saber—a dual-element sword imbued with wind and fire energy. Its slashes leave behind burning gales."

She moved to another.

"This is the Frost Edge Sword, containing ice spiritual energy. Striking an opponent slows them down."

Then, she lifted a sleek, glowing sword.

"And this is the Thunderstrike Blade, infused with lightning essence, delivering electrified strikes."

As Jiang Cheng looked around, a simple, shadowy sword caught his eye. It was unremarkable, its low-profile design making it stand out among the flashier weapons.

Jiang Cheng picked it up, sensing its mysterious aura. He could tell this was no ordinary sword.

Ruan Xue's eyes lit up.

"That's a good one, Brother Jiang. That sword was refined by a Foundation Establishment Elder in Qinglin Sect."

Jiang Cheng was intrigued. "How much?"

Ruan Xue grinned."It's 560 spirit stones, but since you're my friend, I'll give it to you for 530 spirit stones."

Jiang Cheng thought for a moment. He still had 1,118 spirit stones left. "I'll take it, Sister Xue."

Then he added, "Also, give me two Thunderstrike Talismans and two Heavenly Shield Talismans."

Ruan Xue handed them over. "That will be 260 spirit stones—fifty for each Thunderstrike Talisman and eighty for each Shield Talisman."

Jiang Cheng clenched his teeth and paid. "It's worth it for protection."

"Also, give me three bottles of Qi Condensation Pills."

Ruan Xue nodded. "That will be 150 spirit stones"

Jiang Cheng then asked, "Do you have any sword techniques that match this sword?"

Ruan Xue smiled. "I recommend the Thunderclap Sword Art—it allows the sword to move as fast as lightning, striking multiple times in the blink of an eye. But it's expensive—100 spirit stones."

Jiang Cheng skimmed the jade slip and, after a moment, bought it directly.

As Jiang Cheng bid farewell to Ruan Xue, the sky had already darkened, and the chill of the evening air brushed against his skin. He stepped out of the Qinglan Immortal Pavilion, feeling the weight of his purchases in his storage ring. The Thunderstrike talismanes , the Thunderclap Sword Art, and the Qi Condensation Pills felt like solid gains, yet as he looked up, the sky had shifted to a dusky twilight.

By now, night had fallen.

His heart sank a little. "How did it get so late?" he muttered to himself, realizing the night had already fallen completely. "I should have left earlier..."

A sense of regret washed over him. If he'd been more mindful of the time, he could've made it home before the streets turned desolate and dangerous. But now, wandering the streets alone, a growing sense of unease settled in his chest. He could practically hear the ominous rustling of the wind in the empty stalls around him.

As he started to walk down the alley, trying to avoid drawing attention, his footsteps echoed too loudly in the silence. It felt like the night itself was mocking him.

"Why the hell did I spend 530 spirit stones on a sword and forget to buy a simple stealth talisman?"

Jiang Cheng almost slapped himself. He had Thunderstrike Talismans, Heavenly Shield Talismans, and even a whole-ass Qi Condensation Pill stash—but not a single escape or invisibility talisman.

"I had over a thousand spirit stones! I could've bought a Concealment Talisman for 50 stones! But nooo, I had to be fancy."

He clenched his jaw. If he died tonight, his gravestone should read:

"Here lies Jiang Cheng, robbed and stabbed in an alley, clutching an expensive sword he never got to use."

He suddenly felt like a fool, walking around like a walking bank account with no withdrawal protection.

The stall area outside was nearly deserted, with most cultivators having packed up and left.

Though Pushan Market had no official curfew, the dark and windy streets made night travel dangerous. Who knew what kind of murderers lurked in the shadows?

Not going out at night has almost become an unspoken rule for the monks.

He quickened his pace, but suddenly remembered that he was still wearing his new robe—it was lavish, and he didn't want to attract unnecessary attention. In a moment of panic, he turned down a narrow alley, where he ducked behind a dingy storefront to change into his old, tattered robe—the one belonging to the original owner of this body.

The robe was barely more than a collection of patched cloth, with one sleeve that seemed to have been sewn on backwards and the smell of stale sweat lingering on it. As he pulled it on, Jiang Cheng couldn't help but feel a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He had never been one for fashion, but this was a bit much even for his standards.

"What am I doing..." he muttered to himself, feeling like a clumsy beggar. There was a brief moment where he considered going back to the Qinglan Immortal Pavilion just to buy a new robe—maybe something at least half-decent—but then he remembered he had just spent a fortune on talismans and pills.

With a sigh, he looked at his reflection in a small puddle. His hair was a bit unkempt, and his robe seemed to have aged ten years since its last wear. His reflection made him want to hide in a hole and never come out.

As he started to walk down the alley, trying to avoid drawing attention, his footsteps echoed too loudly in the silence. It felt like the night itself was mocking him.

Then, out of nowhere, he heard voices. Low, menacing laughter echoed from deeper in the alley. He froze.

Jiang Cheng's heart almost leaped out of his chest when he got a good look at the rogues.

Sitting around a low-burning fire, their gleaming eyes reflected the dim light like hungry wolves in the dark. A few of them had their hands lazily resting on rusty swords, their postures relaxed—but their aura was anything but friendly.

Three of them were at the middle stage of Qi Refining. The rest were at the early stages.

Jiang Cheng felt his stomach drop.

Oh, God Lord, I'm done for."

Cold sweat formed on his back as panic surged through him. He had no idea how strong they were in actual combat, but he wasn't about to test his luck. He instinctively activated the Breath-Holding Technique to its absolute limit, shrinking his presence to that of a weak chicken at the first level of Qi Refining.

Then, with all the dignity of a man about to wet himself, he buried his head slightly, hunched his shoulders, and walked like the most forgettable background character in existence.

His goal? Blending in so well that they wouldn't even register his existence.

One of the rogues glanced his way, his eyes sharp and assessing.

Jiang Cheng's heartbeat hammered in his ears. He was one wrong move away from becoming a ghost under the night sky.

The rogue's gaze lingered a second too long. His brows furrowed, and his lips parted slightly as if about to speak.

Jiang Cheng's stomach twisted. Shit. Did he recognize me? Do I look too clean to be a beggar?

He subtly hunched his shoulders further, trying to shrink into himself. The air felt thick, every second stretching unbearably long.

The rogue furrowed his brows slightly, but then—

"Tch."

With an annoyed grunt, he turned away and spat on the ground. "Just another poor bastard."

A third one chuckled lazily, shaking his head. "Must be one of those trash cultivators who can't afford to eat. Probably selling scraps for spirit stones."

Jiang Cheng had never been so insulted in his entire life.

But he wasn't about to correct them.

"Yes. Yes, exactly. I am a poor, pitiful, weak cultivator. So weak. So insignificant. Please continue ignoring me." He chanted this in his head like a mantra, forcing himself to keep walking at a normal, casual pace.

The rogues barely spared him another glance before returning to their fire, laughing among themselves.

Jiang Cheng resisted the urge to run for his life and forced himself to walk normally until he turned the corner.

The moment he was out of their line of sight, he broke into a silent sprint, his legs moving so fast they barely touched the ground.

When Jiang Cheng finally stumbled through the door of his humble home, he slammed it shut behind him, pressing his back against the wooden frame like a man who had just escaped from the jaws of death.

"I live! I actually live!"

He gasped for breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and after a moment, he collapsed onto the rickety wooden stool, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

"Thank you, Heavens! Thank you, Breath-Holding Technique!" He clasped his hands together in a sincere prayer of gratitude.

It was no wonder he was terrified.

Any normal person would have peed their pants in his situation!

Back in his past life, he had lived in a modern society with laws and police, where disputes were settled with words and lawsuits, not fists, blades, or soul-devouring techniques.

Hell, he had never even killed a chicken, and now he was in a world where people slaughtered each other for spirit stones!

And worst of all—he was a nobody.

No background, no powerful master, no mysterious inheritance, no heaven-defying cheat system.

Just a poor, weak, easy-to-bully bastard in a world where the strong preyed on the weak.

At any moment, he could be robbed, enslaved, or used as a human cauldron for some twisted cultivation method. And let's not forget—

The original owner of this body was murdered.

By who? No idea.

Why? Still no idea.

And the killer was still out there.

Jiang Cheng shivered. If he had any delusions about the world of cultivation being a magical paradise of flying swords and divine arts, tonight had beaten those fantasies out of him with a rusty club.

He was a sheep surrounded by wolves.

And if he didn't get stronger fast, he wouldn't even make it past next month.