Chapter 36: Cricket Battle, Before Seclusion

To the south of Lan Shade Square, and to the southwest of Heng Mountain, lies a range of mountains stretching in a sweeping arc, its peaks rising and falling in endless succession, cloaked in dense forests. The range resembles a giant finger pressing folds into the earth.

From afar, these mountains tower with majestic ridges; up close, strange peaks rise in wild profusion. Where the range stretches, clouds and sky blend into one; where the cliffs are steep, even ten thousand men could not force a path through. Ordinary people could hardly set foot here—only those of the immortal path might travel these heights.

Within these mountains lies the gate of Great Panhu Mountain.

By the thirteen great stockades, beside Heng Mountain, there is a hidden path leading deep into the range, unknown to outsiders.

At the end of this hidden way, on a highland crag, is a cavern wherein stands a mountain lodge, said to have been established by a certain eccentric master from the southern lands of Lan Shade.

Yu Xiao walked through the lodge, with the confidence of one well acquainted with its turns, and soon reached a chamber within the cave.

Above the chamber door were carved two crooked ancient seal characters: “Fighting Crickets.”

Though the phrase originally referred to cricket matches, here in this lodge—and in the vast Panhu Mountains—it had come to mean gambling with venomous insects.

Mustering his strength, Yu Xiao pushed open the heavy stone door.

This door served as a threshold, weeding out unworthy participants; without deep inner cultivation and mastery of the Three Flowers, few could move the stone and enter with ease.

“Hey! Lord Snake Yu!”

Someone inside recognized him at once, surprise flashing across his face before he greeted Yu Xiao warmly.

“You must have caught a remarkable insect, or you wouldn’t set foot here!”

Yu Xiao’s cautious and ruthless reputation was well known throughout southern Lan Shade—he would never come unless he held a true trump card.

With a crisp “ding,” Yu Xiao flicked a square-holed copper coin into the man’s arms.

“Master Yu!” the man exclaimed joyfully. “There are two wealthy patrons in the lodge today—regulars, both with rare creatures. One has a Blade-arm Mantis, the other a Rainwing Butterfly. They can’t compare to your Thorn-headed Snake, but for the fighting chamber, they’re top-tier contenders.”

Yu Xiao nodded, not lingering, and approached the steward overseeing the matches, handing over six large coins.

The steward checked the coins for authenticity, glanced at Yu Xiao, then called aloud:

“Six charm coins, a new challenger—enter!”

As the announcement rang out, Yu Xiao extended his palm, revealing the centipede resting there.

At the sight of the black centipede, the steward’s eyes gleamed. He raised his voice again: “Ironback Centipede—who’s interested in a match?”

The Ironback Centipede was not an obscure variant; most present knew its reputation—its armored back was nearly impenetrable to ordinary venomous creatures.

Ji Ming curled up in Yu Xiao’s palm, half the length of a forearm, facing the appraising gazes.

Having enjoyed half of Yu Xiao’s fortune, it was time for him to prove his worth—otherwise, Yu Xiao might well consider him an enemy.

To handle people, one must wield both carrot and stick. The stick could be put aside for now, but the carrots had been plentiful—whether aiding in cultivation, providing poison for alchemy, or simply pleasing his whims.

If he won this match and brought Yu Xiao a handsome profit, then even if Yu Xiao failed to refine him in the future, he would be forced to weigh his options carefully.

As for victory—Ji Ming had little doubt. With armor as hard as refined steel and the art of Subtle Transformation, he doubted that any creature here could best him.

Moreover, Yu Xiao had shrunk him to half an arm’s length, disguising him as an immature centipede, which would only increase his advantage.

Sure enough, someone took the bait.

The challenger was a swarthy man with a band around his brow, dressed in short garments like a seasoned farmer, not resembling a local practitioner.

He and Yu Xiao stood before a square, deep pit. Yu Xiao, lest his opponent reconsider, quickly tossed his Ironback Centipede into the pit.

Most local free-cultivators knew Yu Xiao’s reputation. Even with his centipede disguised, they would hesitate, so only an out-of-towner would be so bold.

“A mere juvenile—” the rustic man chuckled, muttered a few words, and dropped in a fist-sized Ironfire Ant.

“Seal the pit!” cried the steward.

Thick stone slabs slid together, sealing the pit’s mouth.

Insects are far more sensitive than men; Ji Ming’s presence drove the ant into a corner.

Ji Ming’s antennae quivered, sensing the ant’s scent and vibrations, pinpointing its location.

The ant was wary—after a moment’s initial panic, it remained still, trying to hide itself in the darkness.

But its intelligence was limited—it could not mask its scent.

Ji Ming’s venomous fangs slid silently through the darkness, then struck—sinking deep, twisting ruthlessly, ending the ant’s life.

After regaining his true form, he devoured the ant whole in a short time.

“Not bad—a bit tart, but with a crisp, chicken-like flavor!”

Eating insects was much like drinking bitter tea or coffee; with enough experience, one learned to savor the taste.

The stone slabs above slid open. Ji Ming contracted again, and the farmer peered in, only to see his hopes dashed.

Around them, laughter broke out—locals mocking the outland cultivator blinded by greed.

“Lord Snake Yu truly breeds a fine insect!” A wealthy patron stepped forward, a sky-blue butterfly perched on his shoulder, its wings rising and falling in a mesmerizing display.

“I’ve heard of your Thorn-headed Snake, but this is the Fighting Crickets Chamber—here, only our venomous variants matter. I’ve raised this Rainwing Butterfly for years—it’s a champion here. Let’s see how it fares against yours.”

“I refuse,” Yu Xiao replied.

“You…” The patron was caught off guard by Yu Xiao’s blunt rejection, but then realized he must lack confidence in a victory.

“I’ll add six more charm coins. What do you say?”

“No,” Yu Xiao refused again. Noting the slight shift in the gamblers’ eyes around him, he knew his aim was achieved.

“Seems you’re only fit to play in the small leagues,” the patron sneered.

Yu Xiao paid him no mind. To him, these matches were a slow game—first reaping winnings from the middling gamblers before facing the wealthy patrons.

The lesser gamblers were like small fish or flying insects—neither to be frightened off, nor indulged too much.

His refusal was a signal to them: his variant was undeveloped, not ready to face the principal players—only fit for matches with their kind.

And so, Yu Xiao played here for several days, losing rarely and winning often, amassing a small fortune.

At this pace, even with the occasional loss, it would not be long before someone caught on to his strategy. Satisfied, he decided to quit while ahead, to return another day.

Within the lodge, Yu Xiao used his winnings to make purchases: paper and ink for daily use, jars and pots of all kinds for keeping snakes and insects, each with its own purpose.

He also bought powders to neutralize poison and repel insects, baits and incense for trapping wild venomous creatures, as well as kitchen wares like cauldrons and buckets.

Among his purchases, Ji Ming noticed a small bag of polished rice—a staple Yu Xiao always prepared before entering seclusion to cultivate his Minor Circulation technique.

“Here’s my chance!” Ji Ming thought to himself.