Chapter Forty-Two: The Cultivator Without Name, Identity, or Sect

As soon as the words fell, He Song's figure was already moving off to the side.

Although maintaining the Spirit Rain Technique while walking was somewhat difficult, He Song still carefully controlled the spell, determined not to see Chen Zhou any longer as he distanced himself.

Faced with such an obtuse cultivator, He Song remained cautious, but within this Immortal Market, he felt no real fear. Chen Zhou was merely a fourth-level Qi Refinement spiritual planter, his cultivation equal to He Song’s own. Even if Chen Zhou tried a sneak attack, He Song’s constant vigilance would suffice to keep him safe.

Moreover, Chen Zhou seemed to have no connections or notable background. Otherwise, Zhao Lin could not have so easily reassigned two mu of spiritual farmland from him to He Song. When his own land was abruptly taken, instead of confronting Zhao Lin, Chen Zhou came seeking an exchange with He Song—proof enough of his tendency to bully the weak and fear the strong.

No background. No threat. No courage.

Faced with such a cultivator, He Song saw nothing to fear.

Still, He Song decided he would stop by the Herbal Pavilion later to ask Zhao Lin to look into Chen Zhou’s background. If there was nothing hidden, all would be well. But should there be something concealed, He Song might have to hire someone to deal with this potential trouble.

“You…”

Beside him, upon hearing He Song’s words, Chen Zhou’s face flushed crimson. He pointed at He Song, wanting to retort, but after several moments of trembling lips, he failed to utter a word. Stamping his foot in frustration and seeing He Song focused on his Spirit Rain, ignoring him, Chen Zhou lingered a moment longer before leaving in dejection.

He Song’s cold refusal, together with his connection to the Herbal Pavilion’s management, left Chen Zhou both angry and unwilling to entangle himself further.

The manager of the Herbal Pavilion—such a figure wielded real power, standing worlds apart from a lowly spiritual planter like Chen Zhou. He simply could not afford to provoke them. Nor could he afford to cross He Song, the manager’s friend.

Thus, he could only leave.

Yet as he walked away, He Song vaguely heard Chen Zhou muttering under his breath—phrases like “bullying the weak,” “committing all manner of evils,” “preying on the common folk,” and “abusing borrowed power.”

He Song paid it no mind, merely watching the departing figure and quietly noting which direction Chen Zhou took.

Soon after, He Song finished irrigating the two newly assigned mu of spiritual farmland. Instead of heading straight to the Herbal Pavilion, he wandered leisurely in the direction that Chen Zhou had gone.

Unfortunately, even after walking a great distance, He Song failed to discover where Chen Zhou actually lived. With no other choice, He Song returned home.

Once home, he picked up a sheet of paper.

“Brother Zhao, today I encountered a man while irrigating the spiritual fields—his name is Chen Zhou, cultivation at fourth-level Qi Refinement. He offered ten spirit stones, stating those two mu of farmland previously belonged to him, and wished to exchange. I refused, and he left, clearly disgruntled. I ask that brother Zhao investigate his background for me; my cultivation is low and I fear potential retaliation. If anything is amiss, please let me know. He Song.”

Herbal Pavilion.

Zhao Lin quickly received He Song’s message, delivered by a paper crane. He read the note carefully, frowned, and destroyed it with a flick.

A nameless anger welled up within him, and he couldn’t help but curse under his breath.

Having gone out of his way to help a friend, now this Chen Zhou was causing him endless trouble. He’d completed the task for He Song, but left loose ends unresolved. Now He Song wanted him to check up on the man, fearing reprisal.

Was this not a slap in the face?

He’d assured his friend there would be no issues, and now he felt nothing but embarrassment. How could he hold his head high before He Song in the future?

With these thoughts, Zhao Lin’s gaze grew darker. He reached for a thick ledger and began flipping through it quickly.

After a long while, he finally looked up, his heart tightening.

“Chen Zhou, cultivation at fourth-level Qi Refinement, background as a rogue cultivator, age thirty-one. Recruited into the Immortal Market three years ago, became a spiritual planter, and has remained so to this day.”

He had found it.

Three years ago, Chen Zhou had been brought into the Immortal Market. Three years ago…

A trace of reminiscence flashed in Zhao Lin’s eyes, which quickly turned pensive.

Three years ago marked the departure of Master Chengshan from the Immortal Market, and immediately after, the Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market was attacked by demonic cultivators. From that disaster onwards, the Herbal Pavilion had relaxed its recruitment of spiritual planters. Many had died in the calamity, leaving the fields untended and the upper echelons desperate to replenish their numbers.

It was during that period, in the course of his duties, that Zhao Lin had recruited one rogue cultivator after another. Chen Zhou must have been one of them.

A look of caution flickered in Zhao Lin’s eyes.

A rogue cultivator.

To reach mid-stage Qi Refinement before joining the Immortal Market—Chen Zhou must possess some remarkable qualities. Surviving the perilous early stages of cultivation as a rogue and achieving a breakthrough to mid-stage was incredibly difficult. Yet Chen Zhou had managed it.

Clearly, there was more to him than met the eye.

With this realization, Zhao Lin swiftly prepared another note.

“Chen Zhou, cultivation at fourth-level Qi Refinement, background as a rogue cultivator, age thirty-one. Recruited three years ago into the Immortal Market as a spiritual planter, and has remained so. This is all I could find. However, based on my own judgment, anyone who could reach mid-stage Qi Refinement as a rogue is unlikely to be as simple as he appears. Please be cautious. This matter began because of me, and I owe you an apology. If you need anything, I am at your service without hesitation. I hope you will not hold this against me. Zhao Lin.”

Soon after, as He Song was cultivating at home, he received Zhao Lin’s paper crane.

As his eyes swept over the words, He Song’s brows slowly furrowed.

Joined the Herbal Pavilion three years ago as a spiritual planter. But before joining, Chen Zhou was already a fourth-level Qi Refinement cultivator.

Zhao Lin’s suspicions, it seemed, were not unfounded—indeed, they might be close to the truth.

Yet… the Chen Zhou He Song had just encountered—no background, no threat, no courage. How was he to explain the contrast?

If He Song remembered correctly, Chen Zhou had been utterly timid in his presence, not daring to utter a single harsh word when he left, only muttering complaints about “bullying the weak” and “abusing borrowed power” once he was far off.