Life as a Rogue Cultivator

Chapter 286: Chicheng Market

Chicheng Market sat in the lands of Wu and Yue, and it was the biggest market Liu Xiaolou had ever known.He’d come here seven years ago. Now he was back again, and it felt as if nothing had really changed. Maybe the only thing different was the way he felt inside.

He couldn’t even say what that feeling was. Everything just seemed distant somehow, hard to care about.

Except for the Foundation Establishment Pill.

Today was a bright winter day. The sky was high and empty. Light all around. But when he looked north toward Chicheng Mountain, it was still covered in mist, and he couldn’t make out a thing on it.

He wondered what it was really like inside the Chicheng Sect, one of the top ten sects in the world. How many spirit springs did Chicheng Mountain hold. And how strong were they compared to the one on his own Ganzhu Ridge?

Stepping into the market, he passed places like Tianfu Record, Spirit Beast Incense, Lingnan Roasts, and Central Plains Banquets. All of them were packed with customers and buzzing with noise. Liu Xiaolou, though, didn’t feel anything like the excitement he’d had on his last visit. He drifted past their doors without a second look and headed straight for the spiritual-herb shops, especially the ones that specialized in magical flowers and grasses.

Chicheng Market really lived up to its reputation. He had no luck in Tianmen or Yueyang, but here... he finally found the answer.

In the spiritual-herb shops run by the Qingcheng Sect and the Luofu Sect, Liu Xiaolou found the three kinds of spiritual flowers that bloomed on his Ganzhu Ridge:

That purple spiritual flower, shaped like a winter plum blossom? It’s called ... three stalks could get you one spirit stone.

Then you’ve got those long, thin leaves that look like fluttering willow leaves. They called them ... nine leaves would also fetch one spirit stone.

And the one that blooms alone, wide as a plate, turning to follow the sun as it rises and sets... that’s the . Just one flower was worth a spirit stone.

After a bit of careful asking around, Liu Xiaolou learned that both the Purple Plum Golden Stamen and the Sun Willow Fragrant Drifting Leaf were ingredients used in alchemy. Many healing pills and cultivation-boosting elixirs required these two herbs. Among spiritual herbs, they were considered lower-grade. But on the high end of that category.

The Three-Shade Eastern Bamboo Sunflower, on the other hand, was a supporting material for refining magical tools and counted as a mid-grade spiritual material.

None of these three herbs were native to Jing-xiang. No one seemed to know where they originally came from. And the fact that they had taken root on Ganzhu Ridge was probably thanks to the Golden Ring Bees.

Thinking back carefully, there were probably five stalks of Purple Plum Golden Stamen growing beneath the cliff, maybe twenty to thirty leaves of Sun Willow Fragrant Drifting Leaf, and only a single flower of the Three-Shade Eastern Bamboo Sunflower. It seemed worth putting some real effort into cultivating them. If he could grow them in larger quantity, they might become another source of income for the Sanxuan Sect.

Liu Xiaolou spent over a hundred taels of silver. Since the manager of the Qingcheng Alchemy House didn’t come out to meet him, he invited the helpful clerk who had been assisting him instead and treated him to a fine Central Plains banquet.

The clerk’s cultivation was low, only at the third layer, not even mid–Qi Refinement yet. Even so, he had worked in the Qingcheng Alchemy House for more than ten years and had seen plenty. After a few rounds of drinks, he stopped holding back and spoke frankly. “Honored guest, just tell me what you’re here for. If it’s something I can help with, I’ll do my best. Only one thing: anything that harms my sect is off the table. That, I can’t do.”

Liu Xiaolou laughed. “Of course not. To tell the truth, I happened to get a few spiritual herb seeds, but I have no idea how to grow them. I was hoping you could give me some pointers.”

The clerk nodded. “I figured as much. You asked about Purple Plum Golden Stamen in such detail today. Honestly, it’s simple, and you didn’t need to spend money on me. You just plant them where there’s a spirit spring. If there’s no spirit spring, you can bury spirit stones under the roots. As for how many, there’s no fixed rule. You’ll have to experiment a bit. It mostly comes down to timing and location. There’s one thing you must not do: don’t water them on your own. Spiritual flowers and grasses don’t take regular water. Their roots only accept water from the heavens. Rain, snow, frost, and dew are fine. Water from streams, rivers, lakes, or wells won’t work.”

“What about the Three-Shade Eastern Bamboo Sunflower?” asked Liu Xiaolou.

The clerk said, “Same thing, just make sure there’s no shade over it. Also, the Three-Shade Eastern Bamboo Sunflower has a little quirk. It loves honeycomb. You don’t need much. Bury a palm-sized piece of honeycomb at the roots, and it’ll keep it fed for a whole year.”

Liu Xiaolou raised his cup in thanks. “I appreciate the guidance.”

The clerk took a drink. “It’s nothing. But if you manage to grow some Three-Shade Eastern Bamboo Sunflower in the future, would you be willing to sell it to our Qingcheng Alchemy House? Big or small, we’ll take each flower for one spirit stone. I can make that call myself.”

At the Luofu Sect shop, a good-looking blossom of Three-Shade Eastern Bamboo Sunflower sold for one spirit stone, but their buyback price wasn’t nearly as generous. Four flowers went for three spirit stones, or part of it in silver. What the Qingcheng clerk was offering really was a high price.

After thanking him again, Liu Xiaolou started asking about the underground market.

The “underground market” was really just a black market by another name. Some were quietly run by shopkeepers inside the regular marketplaces, while others were outright set up by the sects that operated those marketplaces. The whole point was to trade things you couldn’t exactly put on display in broad daylight.

The clerk said, “Our Chicheng market’s underground market meets once every ten days. Getting in isn’t hard. Just submit a notice to the Chicheng Sect’s outer hall and pay the entry fee according to their rules.”

“Oh, so it’s actually run by the Chicheng Sect?”

“Heh, I’m only being this honest because I feel we hit it off. If anyone else asks, they’ll deny it.”

“Got it.”

They drank together and enjoyed themselves. When it was time to part ways, Liu Xiaolou thanked him with a spirit stone and saw him off.

The Chicheng Sect’s outer hall sat at the foot of Chicheng Mountain. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t actually inside the sect grounds, and calling it an “outer hall” wasn’t official either. The sign out front said it was a clinic run by a rogue-cultivator family living at the base of the mountain.

When Liu Xiaolou arrived, several patients were already waiting outside to be seen, so he lined up and waited his turn. By the time he got to the front, he’d more or less figured out how the whole thing worked. You went in for a “checkup,” paid the consultation fee, then received a sheet of bamboo paper with a prescription written on it.

The consultation fee was one spirit stone. That was the entrance fee for the underground market, and it was nonrefundable. Pretty expensive.

Selling underground market “tickets” for a spirit stone each added up to a massive profit for any sect. No wonder so many major sects secretly ran their own underground markets.

As for the prescription, it wasn’t just random scribbles. Liu Xiaolou looked it over again and again without understanding a word of it, but he didn’t dare try to imitate it. Who knew what kind of hidden marks or signals might be on there?

Two days later, Liu Xiaolou arrived at a courtyard on the far east side of Chicheng Market. The place was a pharmacy. Customers came and went, some grabbing their medicine right at the counter and leaving, others heading toward the area behind it.

Liu Xiaolou handed over his prescription. The clerk took it, pointed him toward the back, and Liu Xiaolou slipped behind the counter and pushed through a hanging curtain.

Behind it was a dark room where several people were already waiting. Without a word, someone threw a cloak over his shoulders, pulled a felt hat onto his head, and finally strapped a wooden mask onto his face. They reminded him, “Best not to take it off.”

It wasn’t mandatory, but it was definitely the smart choice. Otherwise everything he did would be on full display, which was basically asking for trouble.

Someone else read out the rules. There were only two. First: once you make a deal, you have to buy; otherwise you won’t be allowed to leave. Second: no causing trouble inside; break that rule and you won’t be leaving either. With the Chicheng Sect backing this, no one doubted those rules would be enforced.

Liu Xiaolou nodded to everything, then followed a sloping tunnel downward.