Exposed, a figure stepped out from the shadows. Seeing Lu Qinghe’s guarded stance, Qian Fu raised both hands and spoke quickly: “Fellow Daoist, I mean no harm. There’s no need for such caution.
“Fighting is forbidden within the sect. If the Enforcement Squad catches wind of it, the Penalty is severe.”
Lu Qinghe did not lower his guard. He would not take a stranger at his word so easily. The man’s aura radiated the same cultivation – Qi Condensation third layer.
Lu Qinghe held his stance but did not strike. “If that’s so, what does Fellow Daoist intend by following me?”
Qian Fu waved dismissively. “Fellow Daoist misunderstands. I wasn’t following you – I’ve come to offer you a tremendous Fated Chance.”
A tremendous Fated Chance.
Lu Qinghe believed it even less. Within the sect, when had such good fortune ever fallen into his lap? Anyone who stumbled upon real opportunity would guard it with their life.
Two years in this world had taught him that much. A single misstep inside the sect could mean ruin beyond recovery – to say nothing of the vast and merciless cultivation world beyond.
“My fortune is thin,” Lu Qinghe said flatly. “I cannot bear such a Fated Chance. If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”
Seeing Lu Qinghe turn to go, Qian Fu panicked. “Fellow Daoist, wait! What if I could help you sell your Spirit Rice and Blood Ginseng – and buy Spirit Gathering Pills on top of that? You don’t even want to hear me out?”
Lu Qinghe stopped mid-step.
He turned back, eyes narrowing. “You want to buy my Spirit Rice and Blood Ginseng?”
Qian Fu shook his head. “I can’t afford it. Forget me – among all the Menial Disciples, no one can produce that many Spirit Stones. And Spirit Gathering Pills? Even more impossible.”
“I’m sure Fellow Daoist understands this already.”
Lu Qinghe did understand. For Menial Disciples, obtaining Spirit Stones and pills was agonizingly difficult.
Without the Black Soil Space, he himself would struggle to scrape together even a single Spirit Stone.
Producing ten or more? Apart from a handful of third-layer disciples, no one could manage it.
Qian Fu let out a sigh. “Menial Disciples are disciples in name only. We’re nothing like those Outer Sect Disciples who collect Spirit Stones and pills every month as a matter of course.”
“To speak plainly – we’re the sect’s servants. Only by reaching Qi Condensation fourth layer can we enter the Outer Sect and be treated as true disciples, with access to real cultivation resources.”
“I imagine Fellow Daoist is also pushing for the fourth layer. That’s why you want to sell Spirit Rice and Blood Ginseng to purchase Spirit Gathering Pills.”
Lu Qinghe saw no point in denying it. He nodded. “That’s right.”
“Then what method does Fellow Daoist have to help me sell them?”
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Qian Fu spoke two words: “The Immortal Market.”
Lu Qinghe’s expression soured at once. “Fellow Daoist is making fun of me. We Menial Disciples can’t even leave the sect gates, let alone trade at the Immortal Market.”
He knew of the place – a trading market where cultivators of all stripes gathered, a hundred li beyond the Taixuan Sect. He’d heard other Menial Disciples speak of it.
But for someone like him, it was an impossibility. If he could freely leave the Taixuan Sect and visit the Immortal Market, why would he have been setting up a stall in the Menial Disciple trading area?
Qian Fu smiled. “Under normal circumstances, yes, it’s impossible. But my clan brother is an Outer Sect Disciple responsible for the sect’s procurement runs. He regularly brings a few Menial Disciples along to help carry goods. It’s no trouble at all.”
“I think Fellow Daoist would be well-suited for such an arrangement.”
Lu Qinghe’s eyes lit up.
If he could truly reach the Immortal Market – sell the Spirit Rice and Blood Ginseng from the Black Soil Space there – the Spirit Stones he could obtain were beyond anything he dared imagine.
But he couldn’t be certain whether the man before him spoke truth or lies.
“How am I supposed to believe you?”
Qian Fu showed no anger at the suspicion. In the cultivation world, trust was a luxury no one could afford.
“Fellow Daoist understands – nothing in this world comes free. Pay five Spirit Stones, and my clan brother will ensure your safety on the journey.”
Lu Qinghe understood now. This was how they earned their Spirit Stones.
“Outer Sect Disciples already receive sect provisions,” Lu Qinghe pressed. “Why bother with something like this?”
Qian Fu looked at him with genuine surprise, as though he couldn’t fathom how a cultivator at the third layer – one planning to push for the fourth – could know so little about the Outer Sect.
“It seems Fellow Daoist knows nothing of the Outer Sect. Yes, Outer Sect Disciples receive a monthly allowance. But the stronger one grows, the more vast the resources needed to advance.
“Relying on sect provisions alone, most will never reach Qi Condensation late stage in their lifetime – let alone achieve what every cultivator dreams of: successfully establishing their Foundation and becoming a True Person. The resources that requires are staggering.”
“So every cultivator finds ways to gather what they need. And no one has ever complained about having too many Spirit Stones.”
“Besides, Fellow Daoist can rest easy. When the time comes, my clan brother will swear an Inner Demon oath guaranteeing everyone’s safety.”
Lu Qinghe fell silent, turning it over in his mind.
“Why choose me?” Lu Qinghe asked, still uneasy.
Qian Fu smiled faintly. “Not everyone qualifies for such a Fated Chance.”
Lu Qinghe understood. The so-called qualification was simply the ability to pay five Spirit Stones.
“Let me think on it,” Lu Qinghe said, offering no commitment.
Qian Fu nodded, unsurprised. He produced a small token and held it out. “Half a month from now, my clan brother has a procurement run to the Immortal Market. If Fellow Daoist decides to go, bring this token to where I stay.
“I spend most of my time around the Menial Disciple trading area.”
His role was clear enough – find Menial Disciples who could pay the fee and wanted a chance to seek their breakthrough at the Immortal Market.
“Farewell.”
Qian Fu turned and walked away, leaving Lu Qinghe standing alone.
Lu Qinghe looked down at the token in his palm. A single character was carved into its face: Qian.
He took a winding route back, doubling over his trail several times before returning to his hidden cave dwelling. Once inside, he resumed his cultivation.
Half a month slipped past.
During that time, he ventured out twice – solely to verify whether Qian Fu’s claims held any truth.
In the end, he believed them. Lu Qinghe decided to take the gamble.
He put together a disguise, then made his way to the Menial Disciple trading area and found Qian Fu.
Qian Fu glanced at the token in Lu Qinghe’s hand without a trace of surprise. “I knew Fellow Daoist would make this choice.”
Lu Qinghe spoke directly. “I don’t have that many Spirit Stones. All I have is Spirit Rice.”
This was nothing new to Qian Fu. Among Menial Disciples, Spirit Stones were scarce. What people could produce were spiritual goods and raw ores.
“The market rate for Spirit Rice is ten jin per Spirit Stone,” Qian Fu said. “But we’ll need to resell it, and there’s a handling fee. If Fellow Daoist is willing to put up sixty jin of Spirit Rice, we’ll count it as five Spirit Stones.”
Lu Qinghe hesitated briefly, then took out sixty jin of Spirit Rice and handed it over.
Qian Fu stowed the rice away and gestured. “Follow me.”
Lu Qinghe followed Qian Fu out of the Menial Disciple trading area. They walked toward the Outer Sect, and kept walking until they reached its main gate.
More than ten people were already gathered there, waiting.