Chapter 103: Lingxi Market
“However, there is something I must remind you of,” Qin Xijun said. “Lingxi Market is nothing like the Spirit Source Marsh Night Market. The people there are of all sorts—good and bad mixed together. It is far more chaotic than the night market.”
“If you are going, you will have to be careful on your own.”
Song Yan nodded.
The two chatted casually for a while, speaking of the trip to North Watch Mountain.
Qin Xijun clicked her tongue in amazement, and when Cong Yuzhen was mentioned, she found it even more impressive.
“The student surpasses the master…”
After some further inquiry, it turned out that Granny Qin and Cong Yuzhen’s master were old acquaintances.
What a fateful coincidence.
Before long, he rose and took his leave.
He spent half a day browsing the Spirit Source Marsh Market.
He purchased the pills he needed for his daily cultivation of spiritual energy, along with some other spiritual materials, and then returned to Green Leaf Peak to continue his days of bitter cultivation.
Spiritual energy was refined bit by bit, and his cultivation accumulated measure by measure.
This kind of uneventful seclusion was the norm on the path of immortal cultivation.
Clouds drifted past his eyes.
In the blink of an eye, a month passed.
About thirty to forty li from the Eastern Abyss Sect, outside Lingxi Market.
A cultivator with a stiff expression casually dismissed his wind-riding technique and walked forward slowly.
This person wore a plain robe, the appearance of an independent cultivator, with a spiritual energy realm of approximately the sixth level of Qi Refining.
It was Song Yan.
Today was the day of the Lingxi Market auction that Granny Qin had mentioned.
Before coming here, he had made thorough preparations.
To avoid being targeted, he had altered his appearance.
He had actually struggled with whether or not to change out of his Eastern Abyss Sect disciple robe.
He now understood some of the world’s dangers, and had read many terrifying cases in the Evil Cultivator Records.
At the Spirit Source Marsh Night Market auction before, he had seen two cultivators tailing another cultivator as they left.
They likely intended to kill and rob them.
The factors involved here were actually quite complex.
Sometimes, wearing a major sect’s disciple robe would cause some timid—or rather cautious—cultivators not to cause trouble.
They would worry about backing and being hunted down.
But sometimes, the situation would reverse.
Some murderous desperadoes would not care about such risks at all.
In fact, seeing a major sect’s robe, they might think the person was a fat sheep with plenty of spoils.
And thus strike to kill.
After comprehensive consideration, Song Yan ultimately decided to wear independent cultivator attire.
The main reason was that regardless of the sect, everyone knew the status of outer disciples.
There was basically no backer.
That would instead make him a juicy target in others’ eyes.
He also did not have the nerve to borrow an inner disciple’s robe from Senior Brother Lin Qing.
He could only disguise himself as an independent cultivator.
Stepping into Lingxi Market, there were quite a lot of people here.
Before leaving the sect, Song Yan had naively thought there were few independent cultivators, and the cultivation world was full of disciples from various sects.
Later, he discovered that independent cultivators without the fortune to join a sect were always the majority.
Lingxi Market was exactly such a place—a market established jointly by a group of independent cultivators, sheltered under the prestige of the Eastern Abyss Sect.
“…”
Following the address Granny Qin had given her, she arrived at the eastern side of the market.
This… seemed to be a tavern.
Before he even entered, the strong smell of alcohol had already wafted over.
There were not many cultivators coming and going here; they all looked hurried, passing by Song Yan without any alcohol scent on them.
After confirming once more, he stepped inside.
“Welcome, sir! Right this way!”
The attendant, a cultivator at the fourth level of Qi Refining, saw someone enter and greeted him warmly: “Would you like to… drink here, or take it to go?”
Song Yan pondered briefly and said slowly: “I will have a jar of sixty-year Wuyou Wine.”
The attendant froze, his eyes shifting as he looked around, then lowered his voice: “Sir, Wuyou Wine is not convenient to handle through my hands. Come with me to the cellar—you can pour it yourself.”
Song Yan nodded, followed the attendant through the back of the hall to the rear courtyard.
In the courtyard grew a green pine, and beside it was a small door set into the ground.
The attendant walked over and slowly pulled open the wooden door.
Below was an opening just wide enough for one person to pass through, with a staircase faintly lit by dim light.
“…”
The attendant said nothing more, merely extending his hand to invite him in.
Song Yan glanced at him, cupped his fists, and stepped into the opening, slowly descending.
The instant he fully entered and the door above closed—
Countless candles suddenly blazed to life.
Along the staircase and corridor, arranged in perfect order, illuminating the entire narrow space.
“Why does this Lingxi Market auction have to be so secretive?”
This auction was completely different from the Spirit Source Marsh Market.
Not only was the auction hidden underground, but cultivators who knew of it also had to match a “password” before being allowed entry.
The Spirit Source Marsh auction was practically open to all.
But here, it was as if they were afraid others would find out.
He did not know exactly how long he walked, nor did he encounter any other cultivators in the long corridor.
Finally, he faintly heard some noisy sounds.
Quickening his pace slightly, before him hung a curtain of light-blocking silk fabric.
Song Yan reached out and lifted the curtain.
It was a moderately sized auction hall, and it was already nearly full.
He had arrived late.
There were no special rules; he simply found an empty seat on the edge and sat down.
He began observing the people around him.
Cultivators who attended such underground auctions without any concealment were actually quite numerous.
Perhaps, like Song Yan, they wore human-skin masks or had some other method of disguise.
Some cultivators concealed their faces in very distinctive ways.
For example, he saw a cultivator sitting to his left-front whose entire head was enveloped in a small cloud of mist.
He looked around. Besides the door he had entered, the auction hall had several other doors.
Song Yan judged that the entire Lingxi Market, including the tavern he had just descended from, should have at least four entrances connecting to this auction.
As he observed, he turned his head slightly and discovered a very small girl sitting to his right.
From appearance alone, she looked only about ten years old.
Amid the crowd of tall, robust cultivators, she appeared extremely “tiny.”
The girl wore an inner lining of a daoist robe, had no shoes on, and simply treated the large chair here as a small bed.
She had apparently been watching Song Yan for some time, staring at him and giggling.
Her laughter made his skin crawl.
Acting on the principle of not provoking others unless provoked, Song Yan said nothing, closed his eyes, and slowly regulated his breathing.
Waiting for the auction to begin.
“…”
He did not know how much time had passed when a sound reached his ears.
It came from the front—someone was walking on stage, perhaps the auctioneer making an appearance.
There was also a faint airflow…
Like breathing.
A light fragrance…?
He slowly opened his eyes.
In his vision were a pair of clear, pale purple eyes—the girl was almost pressing her face against his nose.
Song Yan frowned: “What are you doing?!”
The girl giggled, returned to her seat, and leaned on the left armrest: “Your face is fake.”
“Hehehe… so interesting.”
“When we get back to the sect, give me this face, will you?”