The heavy wooden door creaked open, allowing the crisp morning air to drift into the small courtyard.
Shen Jietian stood on the threshold and closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the morning sun settle over him.
For nearly ten days, he had remained inside his room, focused entirely on breaking through his bottleneck and stabilizing his newly advanced realm.
He had barely stepped outside.
Now, with his refined Qi flowing smoothly through his meridians, the tension that had haunted him for days had finally eased.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“Food first.”
His stomach growled in immediate agreement.
After surviving on Qi Gathering Pills and relentless cultivation, he desperately wanted a proper meal.
The South District was already alive when he stepped into the streets.
Vendors shouted prices from roadside stalls, savory smoke drifted through the air, and loose cultivators carrying worn weapons moved between the crowds.
Children darted through narrow alleys while weary parents shouted after them.
It was noisy, crowded, and disorganized.
To Shen Jietian, it felt strangely comforting.
Following a familiar route, he soon arrived at an old noodle stall beside a busy crossroads.
The owner, a broad-shouldered mortal with a booming voice and an even larger belly, looked up from his steaming cauldron.
His eyes widened immediately.
“Daoist Shen?
By the ancestors, you’re still alive!”
Shen Jietian laughed lightly.
“Still breathing, Uncle Sun.”
“Hah!” Old Sun pointed toward an empty table.
“Sit down.
People were beginning to wonder whether you died in the mountains or locked yourself away trying to break through.”
“Something like that.”
The owner chuckled.
“Then today’s meal is discounted in honor of your survival.”
“You’ve become surprisingly generous.”
“Only because you’re one of my best customers.”
A few minutes later, a large bowl of steaming noodles arrived alongside several grilled meat skewers.
Shen Jietian wasted no time.
The rich broth, tender spiritual beast meat, and fresh herbs drove away the lingering exhaustion of cultivation.
By the time he finished, both the bowl and skewers were completely empty.
His mood improved considerably.
No matter what the cultivation manuals claimed about transcending mortal desires, Shen Jietian firmly believed that a good meal remained one of life’s greatest pleasures.
After paying for breakfast, he continued toward the commercial district.
The city bustled around him.
Merchants chased profit.
Hunters pursued resources.
Cultivators sought power.
Wealthy clan elders searched for longevity.
The goals differed, but the pursuit remained the same.
Everyone was climbing toward something.
By the time Shen Jietian entered Fat Sun’s Tea House, the main hall was already crowded.
Independent cultivators occupied most of the tables, merchants discussed business in the corners, and beast hunters gathered near the entrance.
The aroma of roasted tea leaves blended with the constant murmur of conversation.
His gaze quickly found Old Liu.
The veteran herb gatherer sat beside a window, calmly drinking tea while watching the traffic outside.
Shen Jietian crossed the hall and sat opposite him.
“If you keep staring that hard, Uncle Liu, you’re eventually going to burn a hole through the window.”
Old Liu glanced sideways.
The old man’s eyes immediately sharpened.
His spiritual sense swept across Shen Jietian before he slowly nodded.
“So.”
He set down his cup.
“It worked.”
Shen Jietian leaned back.
“What worked?”
“The breakthrough.”
Old Liu snorted.
“Do you think these old eyes can’t recognize a stronger aura when they see one?
Your spiritual fluctuations are far denser than they were ten days ago.”
A waiter arrived with a fresh pot of tea.
Once the servant departed, Old Liu continued studying him.
“You look different.”
Shen Jietian raised an eyebrow.
“Different?”
“Calmer.”
The old man nodded.
“The restlessness in your eyes is gone.”
Shen Jietian couldn’t deny it.
The Fifth Layer of Qi Refinement was hardly a major achievement in the grand scheme of cultivation.
Countless disciples reached this realm every year.
Yet for him, it meant something more.
For seven years, cultivation had felt like a struggle merely to stay afloat.
Every resource, every spirit stone, and every opportunity had been fought for desperately.
Now, for the first time, he felt as though he was genuinely moving forward.
Old Liu raised his teacup.
“Then let us celebrate.”
Their cups touched lightly.
A clear ring echoed between them.
Shen Jietian smiled.
“You’re making this sound like I’ve reached Foundation Establishment.”
“Hmph.”
Old Liu took a sip.
“For loose cultivators, every breakthrough deserves respect.”
The simple statement carried more weight than any lecture.
Neither of them had powerful clans supporting them.
Neither possessed wealthy elders willing to provide resources.
Every step on the path of cultivation had been earned through effort, planning, and occasionally bloodshed.
Eventually, Shen Jietian set down his cup.
There was still one important matter left to handle today.
His old sword had served him faithfully for years, but it had long since reached the end of its usefulness.
Now that he had entered the Fifth Layer, continuing to carry a rusted relic was no longer practical.
It was finally time to acquire a weapon worthy of a cultivator.
With that thought in mind, Shen Jietian rose from his seat, exchanged farewells with Old Liu, and headed toward the forge district.
The forge district occupied a sprawling section of the East Market.
Long before Shen Jietian reached its boundaries, the rhythmic clang of hammer strikes echoed through the streets.
The air smelled of charcoal, hot iron, and burning spiritual ore.
Molten metal glowed behind workshop doors while merchants and cultivators moved between the forges conducting business.
Three years had passed since Shen Jietian had first entered the Iron River Forge carrying nothing but information to sell.
Over that time, a mutually beneficial relationship had formed between him and Master Tie Hongshan.
Whenever Shen Jietian uncovered market intelligence that could save the forge money or reveal valuable opportunities, he brought it directly to the blacksmith.
In return, Tie Hongshan paid generously or provided maintenance for his equipment.
Neither man would describe the other as a friend.
Yet in Black Mist City, trust often carried greater value than friendship.
The familiar signboard of the Iron River Forge soon appeared ahead.
Shen Jietian stepped through the entrance.
Heat immediately washed over him.
At the center of the workshop, Tie Hongshan was forging a spearhead.
CLANG!
A shower of sparks burst across the floor.
CLANG!
The giant blacksmith worked with practiced precision, shaping glowing metal beneath his hammer.
Only after completing the current sequence did he finally straighten and notice his visitor.
A broad grin spread across his soot-covered face.
“Shen!
You’ve finally crawled out of your hole!”
Shen Jietian cupped his hands.
“Greetings, Master Tie.”
The blacksmith laughed.
“I was beginning to think you’d locked yourself away forever.
What brings you here?
Fresh information?”
“Not today.”
Shen Jietian shook his head.
“I’m here for personal business.”
Tie Hongshan’s shoulders visibly drooped.
“Personal business pays far worse than information.”
Ignoring the complaint, Shen Jietian removed the old sword hanging from his waist and placed it on a nearby workbench.
The blade landed with a dull clunk.
Tie Hongshan looked down.
His eyes narrowed.
A moment later, booming laughter filled the workshop.
“Hahaha!
By the ancestors!”
Several apprentices jumped in surprise.
“Three years, Shen!
Three years of earning spirit stones, and you’re still carrying this piece of scrap metal?”
“It still cuts.”
“It insults my profession every time I see it.”
The blacksmith picked up the sword and examined it.
The blade was in miserable condition.
Rust covered much of its surface, chips lined the edge, and the worn leather grip looked ready to fall apart.
The faint spiritual fluctuations radiating from the metal were barely noticeable.
After a few moments, Tie Hongshan’s amusement faded.
“So you’ve finally decided to replace it.”
“Yes.”
“It was overdue.”
He tossed the sword back onto the bench.
“I was beginning to think you’d carry this thing into your grave.”
The blacksmith led Shen Jietian toward a stone table beside the furnace.
Several materials rested neatly on its surface.
Tie Hongshan pointed at them one by one.
“Silver Sharp Ore for penetration.
Deep Sea Spirit Silver for stability.
Premium Quenching Spirit Fluid to complete the process.”
He tapped the old sword.
“And we’ll salvage the spiritual iron core from this relic.”
Shen Jietian studied the materials silently.
Tie Hongshan continued.
“The blade itself is worthless, but the core has spent seven years absorbing your water-attribute Qi.
That familiarity will help during the refinement.”
One apprentice nearby looked visibly envious.
Tie Hongshan folded his arms.
“With these materials, I can forge you a proper mid-tier spirit weapon.”
Shen Jietian nodded.
“How much?”
The blacksmith scratched his beard.
“Under normal circumstances?
One hundred and twenty low-grade spirit stones.”
Shen Jietian’s expression remained calm.
Internally, however, his heart tightened.
One hundred and twenty spirit stones was no small sum.
He possessed enough savings to pay it, but spending that amount still felt painful.
Every stone had been earned through effort.
Tie Hongshan noticed immediately.
“Stop looking at me like I’m robbing you.”
The blacksmith snorted. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
“You’ve helped this forge earn far more than that over the years.”
A grin appeared beneath his beard.
“Eighty stones.”
Shen Jietian blinked.
“Eighty?”
“The remaining forty are repayment for old favors.”
The nearby apprentices exchanged shocked looks.
A forty-spirit-stone discount was substantial.
Tie Hongshan ignored them.
“Well?
Are you buying the weapon or not?”
Shen Jietian remained silent.
Eighty stones was still expensive.
The money could purchase cultivation resources.
It could fund months of training.
Yet another truth quickly followed.
Spirit stones hidden inside a storage pouch provided no protection.
Only strength protected a cultivator.
A stronger weapon meant a greater chance of survival.
That alone justified the expense.
He reached into his storage bag.
“I accept.”
Tie Hongshan’s grin widened.
“Good!”
The blacksmith collected the spirit stones and immediately began issuing orders.
Apprentices hurried into motion.
Bellows roared.
Furnaces intensified.
The entire workshop came alive.
Without hesitation, Tie Hongshan tossed the old sword into the heart of the furnace.
Crimson flames swallowed it instantly.
The rusted blade softened, melted, and gradually dissolved beneath the refining fire.
Impurities separated from the metal and vanished as black smoke, leaving behind only a purified spiritual iron core.
Silver Sharp Ore followed.
Then Deep Sea Spirit Silver.
Brilliant sparks erupted as the materials fused together within the crucible, transforming into a shimmering silver-white alloy.
Tie Hongshan’s expression grew serious.
His spiritual sense enveloped the molten metal as he carefully monitored the refinement.
Once satisfied, he poured the alloy onto the anvil.
CLANG!
The first hammer strike rang through the workshop.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
The rhythmic sound echoed continuously.
Beneath the blacksmith’s hammer, the glowing metal stretched, folded, and condensed.
Slowly, the shape of a sword emerged from the sparks.
As the blade cooled to a deep orange glow, golden light gathered at Tie Hongshan’s fingertip.
With smooth, precise movements, he carved spiritual runes directly into the metal.
Glowing lines spread across the blade like flowing rivers.
The sword hummed softly.
Without pause, Tie Hongshan plunged it into the vat of Quenching Spirit Fluid.
HISSSSSSSSS!
A massive cloud of white steam exploded upward.
Spiritual energy surged through the forge.
For several moments, the workshop vanished beneath the mist.
Then the steam slowly dispersed.
Tie Hongshan reached into the cooling vat and pulled out the completed weapon.
A satisfied grin crossed his face.
“Catch.”
The sword flew across the room.
Shen Jietian caught it effortlessly.
The difference was immediate.
The rusted relic that had accompanied him for years was gone.
In its place rested a sleek silver-gray blade.
Subtle spiritual patterns flowed beneath the polished surface, and the edge reflected the forge light with icy brilliance.
The weapon felt perfectly balanced.
It felt alive.
Shen Jietian guided a thread of metal-attribute Qi into the hilt.
The response was instantaneous.
His spiritual energy flowed through the blade effortlessly, as naturally as blood through his veins.
A clear sword hum echoed through the workshop.
The surrounding apprentices stared openly.
Tie Hongshan crossed his arms with obvious satisfaction.
“A true mid-tier spirit weapon.”
His grin widened.
“For eighty spirit stones, you’ve robbed me blind.”
For once, Shen Jietian didn’t argue.
The expenditure still hurt.
Eighty spirit stones represented months of work.
Yet as he tightened his grip around the hilt, he knew the decision had been correct.
The blade felt like an extension of himself.
For the first time since arriving in Black Mist City, he carried a weapon worthy of his path.
A rare smile appeared on his face.
The road ahead remained long.
But with a breakthrough behind him and a proper weapon at his side, Shen Jietian finally felt prepared to take the next step forward.
End of Chapter 22
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