Chapter Eighteen: The Killing Intent Comes Not Too Late

I wonder if the atmosphere under the rule of the Immortal Sects is any more upright?

Perhaps it’s because I grew up in an age where people are no longer what they used to be, but Ying Chen found himself unable to believe it.

He wandered through the most crowded section of the herb market for half a day before he managed to buy most of the ingredients he needed. The only one left was the Azure Ganoderma, and not a single stalk could be found.

The recipe Ying Chen wanted to attempt was called “Three Ganoderma Moonlight Powder.” As the name suggested, it required three types of spiritual ganoderma, with the azure variety being the most crucial.

Despite its simple name, Azure Ganoderma was a truly versatile herb. Rich in spiritual energy and effective at replenishing one’s vital essence, it was an ingredient in countless pills and powders. If the azure ganoderma had been growing for enough years in a sufficiently rich environment, it would transform into “Purple Ganoderma,” an even more valuable treasure for alchemy.

On Crimson Water Cliff, top examinees were supplied with one Purple Ganoderma Pill each month to aid their cultivation, and this very herb was its primary ingredient.

Perhaps because of this, after wandering for half a day, Ying Chen saw very little azure ganoderma for sale, and most of what he did see was clearly suspect. This left him in a difficult position.

“If I make no mistakes during preparation, the rest of the herbs should be enough for five attempts at refining, save for the azure ganoderma,” he thought. “Will I have to buy it at the pill houses or pharmacies?”

But his money was already running low. Only after coming down the mountain did he realize that prices here weren’t much lower than he’d imagined. The ones who sold fakes aside, even honest merchants didn’t sell for much less, and there was no room for haggling. If they were willing to lower their prices, they’d have sold their stock to the pill houses long ago.

After this round of shopping, Ying Chen’s purse was already quite thin.

“So be it,” he decided after thinking it over. “I’ll try again today and tomorrow, and if I still can’t find any azure ganoderma, I’ll decide what to do then.”

At this thought, a strange sensation crept over him—he was hungry.

According to legend, cultivators do not eat the grains of the mortal realm, surviving only on wind and dew. In reality, this was not entirely true.

At least for Qi Refinement cultivators, subsisting on wind and dew was impossible. On Crimson Water Cliff, outer sect disciples were given pills as food—not Fasting Pills, which allowed cultivators to forego food and even aided their cultivation. Such pills were far too expensive for ordinary disciples.

The pills given to outer sect disciples only slowly released spiritual energy to replenish one’s body, keeping hunger at bay for eight to ten days so as not to interrupt their cultivation.

Ying Chen had already taken two this month, not expecting to run out so soon and feel a twinge of hunger. For once, he actually craved something to eat.

He even remembered the Hundred Flowers Fish he’d hung in his courtyard and wondered what it would taste like.

It occurred to him that since coming to this world, he’d barely eaten anything at all. The thought made him chuckle. “It was one thing up on the mountain, but since I’ve come down and am in the heart of the market, why not treat myself to a good meal?”

With this in mind, he glanced around. No new stalls had appeared, nor did any vendors suddenly produce azure ganoderma, so he decided not to hesitate any longer.

He recalled that beneath the Celestial Treasure Cloud Boat, at the center of the market, there was a restaurant. The place was always bustling with cultivators, so it must have some reputation—at the very least, the food wouldn’t be inedible.

Cultivators often preferred pills to meals, not just to avoid delaying their cultivation, but because their enhanced senses made them much more selective about what they ate.

The restaurant at the center of the market was called “Cloud Fragrance Pavilion.” It was divided into three floors, each three or four zhang high, giving the place a spacious feel.

The main hall on the first floor was noisy and crowded; the private rooms on the third floor were too extravagant. Ying Chen was led by a waiter to a seat on the second floor.

Though not a private room, the second floor was divided by rockeries, streams, screens, and curtains, so it did not feel at all inferior. The prices were also just within Ying Chen’s means.

He glanced at the menu, which was filled with mysterious-sounding names: Celestial Dew Pearls, Cloud Brocade and Rosy Gown, Azure Wave Dragonling… Without being a regular, it was impossible to tell what any of it meant.

Ying Chen made some random selections and spent his last ten talisman coins, leaving just one spirit stone to his name. He felt no regret, for he was not one to pinch pennies; as long as he enjoyed himself, it was worth it.

Soon, dish after dish was served: Celestial Dew Pearls turned out to be a dessert of condensed spiritual fruit nectar; Cloud Brocade and Rosy Gown was a platter of flower stamens soaking in ice spring water, slowly blooming, quite beautiful to behold; only Azure Wave Dragonling could truly be called a rare delicacy from the sea… but all the flavors were quite good.

Having not eaten in a long time, Ying Chen found his appetite revived. He set aside all thoughts of cultivation, alchemy, or the upcoming examinations and focused solely on the enjoyment of good food, his mood greatly improved.

He did not expect this rare moment of pleasure to be so abruptly disturbed.

The tranquility of the second floor was suddenly broken. Ying Chen heard new guests taking seats nearby. Though separated by rockeries, streams, and a screen of peach blossoms, he could still hear one of them laughing heartily.

The voice was quite familiar, and the words that followed made Ying Chen glance up.

He saw a man with a scarred, pockmarked head, his back to the room, shaking his head as he said, “What did Senior Brother Wei say? When he tires of his plaything, he’ll gift him to me as a slave, ha ha…”

Another voice responded with a laugh, “Brother Di, you’ve been with Senior Brother Wei so long—have you developed a taste for pretty boys yourself?”

“Me? Not at all,” the pockmarked man replied languidly. “Quite the opposite, I despise these handsome types. Forcing them to bow and scrape, wag their tails and beg, that’s what gives me pleasure…”

He spoke loudly, clearly unconcerned about being overheard through the wall.

But this noise disrupted the peace, and soon, a waiter from Cloud Fragrance Pavilion brought over several screens to surround their table. The screens seemed to have sound-dampening properties, for their voices faded into obscurity.

Yet Ying Chen’s rare good mood had already vanished without a trace.

He set down his chopsticks and let out a cold laugh.

What Di the Pockmarked said may not have referred to Ying Chen, and his name had never been mentioned, but it was like a spark lighting a fuse, igniting all the pent-up anger Ying Chen had been harboring these past days.

With a sharp blade at his side, murderous thoughts arose unbidden!

Since reaching the sixth level of Qi Refinement, Ying Chen had not yet had the chance to test his abilities—now, it seemed the perfect time. Not a moment too soon!