Chapter 15: The Hall of Honored Guests

In the world of cultivation.

Within the Thick Earth Sect.

At the Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market.

No matter which corner of the cultivation realm one found themselves in, cultivation base was always the measure of all things.

The stronger one’s cultivation, the more resources one could command.

Naturally, the number of spirit stones one could acquire would also increase.

Take He Song for instance—when he was at the first level of Qi Refinement, his status as a spirit farmer allowed him to oversee only five acres of spiritual fields.

The five acres yielded him merely one hundred and fifty spirit stones a year.

Of these, one hundred and twenty had to be paid as rent.

Only the remaining thirty spirit stones were truly at He Song’s disposal.

But that changed.

When He Song advanced to the middle stage of Qi Refinement, becoming a true mid-stage spirit farmer, the fields he could manage increased.

At that time, the spirit stones he would earn each year would soar far beyond his current income.

But now was not the time to dwell on such thoughts.

Having just broken through to the third level of Qi Refinement, He Song sensed that he was still some distance away from reaching the mid-stage.

Rising from his meditation cushion, He Song, in good spirits, brewed himself a fine pot of tea.

In five years, under the influence of Wei Fan and Meng Guan, He Song’s tea-making skills had improved markedly, and he had begun to study tea leaves in depth.

Which teas were good, which were best enjoyed only once, which possessed special effects—He Song had more or less figured these things out over the past five years.

Now, he had even grown accustomed to occasionally savoring tea.

“Third level of Qi Refinement—still at the very bottom of the cultivation world, but compared to the first level, I now possess a few more tricks,” He Song mused.

Over these five years, his role as a spirit farmer had brought him a total of one hundred and fifty spirit stones.

Thirty a year, five years—one hundred and fifty in all.

Apart from the cost of food and the occasional visits to Wei Fan and Meng Guan, He Song had not squandered his spirit stones. Instead, he had saved them diligently.

By now, he had amassed about a hundred spirit stones.

This identity as a spirit farmer had brought him many benefits.

But as an immortal aspirant, how could He Song be content with farming forever?

The myriad arts of cultivation—alchemy, artifact forging, talisman crafting, formations, beast taming...

Which of these was not more enticing than tilling fields?

It was only because his cultivation was so low that he could not access these arts, and so he had followed the path of his predecessor to become a spirit farmer.

But He Song had no desire to remain a spirit farmer forever.

What immortal spends their days tending fields?

Thus, saving up to purchase introductory texts on the myriad cultivation arts had become a persistent longing for He Song.

“My soul is stronger than other cultivators’. I learn spells faster. If I start studying the myriad arts now, shouldn’t I be more talented than others as well?” he thought, sipping his tea.

A desire to head straight to the Pavilion of Spiritual Techniques and browse the cultivation arts’ introductory books suddenly took root in his heart.

In five years, He Song had saved around a hundred spirit stones.

From what he knew, introductory texts for the cultivation arts mostly cost about a hundred spirit stones each, similar to the price of basic cultivation methods.

Now that he had reached the third level of Qi Refinement, his life had grown dull—if not tending fields, he was meditating.

It was truly monotonous.

It was time to find something new to occupy himself with—a new way to earn spirit stones!

A resolute light flashed in his eyes.

He Song sprang to his feet, tucked all his spirit stones into his sleeve, and strode boldly out the door.

Marketplace.

Pavilion of Spiritual Techniques.

Dressed in the garb of a spirit farmer, He Song quickly made his way there, ignoring the respectful gazes cast at him by other itinerant cultivators.

After five years, He Song had grown indifferent to the awe in the eyes of those around him.

Within the Immortal Market, the distinction between internal cultivators and itinerants was as vast as the heavens and the abyss.

Outside, however, the identity of a market insider could even spell disaster.

The respect those itinerants showed was not for He Song himself, but for the Immortal Market behind him.

It had nothing to do with He Song personally.

Stepping into the Pavilion of Spiritual Techniques, He Song had barely lifted his gaze when a familiar voice greeted him.

“Fellow Daoist He, it’s been a while. Bin’er greets you. Are you here today for a particular spell?”

Bin’er.

She was the beautiful female cultivator who had received He Song on his very first visit to the Pavilion.

Cultivators’ memories were often excellent—even if decades had passed since their last meeting, they could recognize each other at a glance.

Moreover, if one remembered the other’s aura, even after centuries or millennia, even if their appearance had changed, they could still recognize them instantly.

This was why, though five years had passed since He Song last set foot in the Pavilion, Bin’er still recognized him.

Five years had gone by.

He Song’s appearance remained unchanged.

Bin’er’s features, too, were untouched by time.

In the cultivation realm, eternal youth was commonplace—most cultivators, whether in their fifties or several centuries old, wore the faces of the young.

Only outliers like Meng Guan preferred to present themselves as elderly.

Thus, in the past five years, He Song had never felt anxious about his looks.

“Greetings, Fellow Daoist Bin’er. I’ve come today to look at introductory manuals on the cultivation arts,” He Song said with a slight bow and a smile.

That was his purpose, and facing the Pavilion’s attendant, he had nothing to hide.

However, just as he finished speaking, Bin’er glanced at him with a hint of surprise.

But her astonishment quickly faded.

“Please, Fellow Daoist He, follow me to the distinguished guest hall,” she said softly, leading the way.

Meanwhile, Bin’er’s thoughts were in a whirl.

Introductory manuals for the myriad cultivation arts cost over a hundred spirit stones each—not everyone could afford such a sum.

Especially not a minor cultivator like He Song, who had only been within the Immortal Market for five years and was still at the third level of Qi Refinement.

To have saved such a large amount in five years...

Bin’er found herself curious about He Song.

Could it be... this man never used spirit stones for cultivation?

Or did he, by chance, stumble upon a fortune?

Spirit stones were both currency and a resource for cultivation.

Using them in cultivation could greatly hasten a cultivator’s progress.

Hence, spirit stones were the hard currency of the entire realm.

This was also the source of Bin’er’s confusion.

Like He Song, she was an insider at the Immortal Market, receiving a monthly stipend of two spirit stones, accommodation included, and tasked with receiving cultivators who came to buy spells.

Each month, as soon as she received her spirit stones, she used them for her own cultivation, hoping to improve her realm as quickly as possible.

Thus, her spirit stones were always spent as soon as she received them—she had never managed to save any.

For someone like He Song to save a hundred spirit stones in five years was truly puzzling.

Was there really someone who, rather than using spirit stones to improve their cultivation as quickly as possible, preferred to save them to buy things?