Chapter 84: Jinsheng (7)

“The master of the Mirage, Uman, is a twelfth-realm cultivator. He was once a guest elder of the Mo clan in Tumi State. Fifty years ago, he killed his master, injured his lord, and betrayed his sect, fleeing all the way to settle in Jialing City. Later, he changed his identity and created the Mirage Sea Market. With his immense wealth, he sits at the head of the three great merchant guilds.” Xu Jingzhen stood at a high vantage point, leading He Tingtong and pointing downwards. “This person is a blade cultivator, and he has two seventh-realm cultivators among his subordinates, along with numerous enforcers. He’s not easy to deal with, so I advise you not to hatch any crooked plots against him for the time being.”

He Tingtong instantly understood: “He has a backer?”

Xu Jingzhen nodded: “He works secretly for the Xiangli clan. All the medicinal pills and immortal artifacts collected from the Divine Dynasty Ruins are first shipped to Xingzhou to supply the members of the Xiangli clan. He can be considered a hidden piece the Xiangli clan has raised in Jialing City. No matter how much the Mo clan hates him, they have to swallow their broken teeth along with the blood. I’ve heard they attempted assassination a few times, but Uman is cunning, and they suffered heavy losses each time. Over time, they just endured it.”

The power of the aristocratic families was not equal. Currently, among the Seven Surnames of the Nine Provinces, the Xu clan of Yuzhou was at the top, as they controlled the Immortal Alliance and were deeply connected with the Sword Sect of the Shangxuan Realm. Next was the Xie clan of the Yuanchen Palace, followed by the Xiangli clan of Xingzhou, the Bai clan of the Biyun River Medicine Sect, and the Fu clan, famous for their marriage alliances. Only after them came the Zhou and Mo clans; although they were the lords of a state, they were not among the Five Sects, nor did they have the extensive connections and ubiquitous marriage ties of the Fu clan. When encountering stronger forces, they had no choice but to endure.

“Jialing City is the only entrance to the Divine Dynasty Ruins. The Immortal Alliance originally wanted to take it back and seal it off. However, every time they sent people over, these merchant guilds would use underhanded tactics in the dark, giving them no peace. The Immortal Alliance argued over it hundreds of times, but since it wasn’t good to openly tear faces with them, they had to settle for this half-dead state of affairs.” A rare hint of helplessness appeared in Xu Jingzhen’s expression: “The various families have many spies in the city. I came in a hurry, so it’s not convenient to reveal my tracks here, as it would easily arouse suspicion.”

He Tingtong expressed his understanding.

“As for the master of the Rakshasa Ghost Market, this person never shows their face, only issuing orders to their subordinate shopkeepers, engaging only in pawnbroking, auctions, and acting as a middleman.” Xu Jingzhen pointed to the small white-jade building to the south. “However, you should enter that place as little as possible.”

He Tingtong: “Is it a mix of good and bad people? Too many bad guys? I heard there are a lot of assassins inside.”

Xu Jingzhen shook his head: “That building is a Heaven-grade divine artifact, crafted by the Divine Mechanism Ghost Hand. When placed on the ground, it becomes a building, divided into twenty-four layers of street markets connected head-to-tail with distorted space. It is also a top-tier trapping formation.”

The Divine Mechanism Ghost Hand, Gongyi Jia, was a grandmaster of mechanisms and artifact refinement from a thousand years ago. He had no master and left no inheritance. During his lifetime, he created several divine artifacts, but his most famous work was the Thirty-Three Heavenly Palaces suspended in the firmament over the Jiuyao Mountain.

After completing the Heavenly Palaces, he disappeared without a trace. Some said he died, while others said he attained the Dao and ascended.

“This building recognizes a master,” Xu Jingzhen reminded him in a tone used to scare children. “Entering the building is equivalent to a sheep entering a tiger’s mouth. If one day the building’s master suddenly decides on a whim to recall it, given the grade of that small white building, even a thirteenth-realm cultivator would find it difficult to escape. By then, trapped inside with no hope of ever getting out, one can only be at the mercy of others.”

He Tingtong’s eyebrows twitched, and he asked, “Since it is a divine artifact, this item must be indestructible, right?”

“Naturally.” Xu Jingzhen rubbed his chin and added, “But I haven’t tried it. You can try it in the future.”

He Tingtong’s brow furrowed slightly as a realization hit him.

In his previous dozen or so lifetimes, he had always been in the Hanshan Realm. That battle lasted for a whole year. By the time they finished dealing with the Demon Race, Jialing City was already a dead city. He Tingtong had once flipped through the files in the archives. Let alone the Silver Moon Ancient Assembly, the Mirage Sea Market, or the Rakshasa Ghost Market—out of the entire city’s population of sixty thousand, only Xu Jingzhen, who had achieved great success in the Dao of Ruthlessness, and Zhou Jinsheng, the ghost cultivator, survived.

The officially available file recorded it briefly: “On the fifteenth day of the seventh month in the thirteenth year of Linde, the Emperor’s incinerating fire moved south. Once touched, it could not be extinguished. Sacrificing human lives, the Nether Spring Formation was raised, blocking it at Jialing.”

A grand formation formed by the sacrifice of sixty thousand lives blocked a burst of karmic fire born from the wrath of a tyrant from a thousand years ago, sparing the heavily damaged post-war Immortal Alliance from disaster.

Xu Jingzhen was about to enter the Divine Dynasty Ruins to fetch medicine for Zhou Jinsheng.

The later Zhou Jinsheng was a ghost cultivator; the current Zhou Jinsheng was a living person.

Xu Jingzhen cultivated the Dao of Ruthlessness.

Could it be that he… killed his ‘wife’ to prove his Dao?

He Tingtong’s eyelid suddenly twitched. He turned his head to glance at Xu Jingzhen: “Lord Jingming, my cultivation is still shallow, and I have not yet chosen a Dao. I wonder if you could offer some guidance?”

Xu Jingzhen was taken aback for a moment, then burst into laughter: “That’s fine. Did Qin Tan never talk to you about choosing a Dao?”

He Tingtong looked distressed: “My cultivation is only at the fifth realm now. Mr. Qin only makes me practice my sword every day, saying that once I reach the seventh realm, my Dao heart will naturally form.”

These were indeed Qin Tan’s exact words.

However, Qin Tan had always focused solely on his cultivation, walking a single path to the end. His Dao heart formed naturally, without worry or anxiety, without fear or dread. By the time his cultivation reached the seventh realm, his sword heart was clear and bright. As a born sword cultivator, the concept of “choosing a Dao” simply didn’t exist for him.

He was too special to be used as a reference.

“Lord Jingming, you cultivate the Dao of Ruthlessness,” He Tingtong propped his head up and asked. “Does your Dao of Ruthlessness mean you cannot have emotional attachments? Severing all feelings and love, eradicating all desires?”

“Yes and no. Greed, anger, ignorance, and love obscure the mind. To walk the Great Dao, one must have a heart free of external things and distracting thoughts. To have the form of a human, but not the emotions of a human. Having a human form, one lives among people; lacking human emotions, one’s sense of right and wrong is not derived from people.” After some thought, Xu Jingzhen answered seriously: “Actually, I feel that severing all feelings and love might not necessarily be the case. Humans are not wood or stone, and I am not someone naturally devoid of emotional ties, with a cold heart and cold lungs. Joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness are all natural; forcibly locking oneself away damages one’s disposition. However, if one truly does whatever one pleases, then there is no Dao left to cultivate.”

“A Dao heart, a Dao heart—it inherently means cultivating the heart. How can cultivating the heart be accomplished in one stride? Only by experiencing things can one gain realization, and then obtain results. I am still groping my way along this path.”

Xu Jingzhen raised his hand and pressed it on He Tingtong’s shoulder. Seeing the young man’s bewildered face, he patted him and sighed: “I haven’t fully comprehended it yet, so I really can’t give you a clear answer. How about you wait a bit? When I comprehend the Great Dao and become a Manifested Saint, I will definitely clear up your confusion.”

“I see.” He Tingtong shook his head: “Since you haven’t succeeded yet, then I won’t cultivate the Dao of Ruthlessness for now.”

Xu Jingzhen: “…”

He rubbed his glabella, then felt relieved.

“Choosing a Dao should be done with caution. Every path has its corresponding tribulation. If you cultivate the Sword Dao, you will easily encounter the tribulation of killing: those who kill will always be killed by others. The Dao of Ruthlessness easily encounters the tribulation of emotion. The Dao of Saving the World encounters the tribulation of the common people: you can save one person, or a hundred people, but how do you save thousands and millions of the common people?” Xu Jingzhen reminded him: “You are still at the fifth realm, your disposition is not yet settled, and you still have a few years to choose. When a cultivator reaches the seventh realm, they begin to generate their sea of consciousness and heart domain. If you cannot comprehend the Dao, you cannot produce a Heart Aspect; without a Heart Aspect, the sea of consciousness and heart domain cannot be born, and going any further on the path of Dao will be incredibly difficult.”

“Choosing a Dao path that suits you is more important than choosing a good sect.”

“However… looking at your face, you are indeed not suited for this Dao.” Xu Jingzhen suddenly leaned close, his peach-blossom eyes darting back and forth across He Tingtong’s face.

He Tingtong leaned back slightly, creating some distance, and asked in confusion: “What does the Immortal Lord mean?”

Xu Jingzhen said mysteriously: “I see your Red Phoenix star is moving; a happy event is approaching.”

He Tingtong: “Ah?”

Just as he was about to ask further, Xu Jingzhen turned his head, pointed to the other end of the long street, and smiled: “Ah, there’s a fruit seller over there.”

He flipped down from the roof, walking over with light steps, his voice drifting back from afar: “You’re in luck, fruit merchants don’t come often. What a coincidence today, I’ll go buy some fruit to eat.”

Sitting on the railing, He Tingtong was utterly confused, feeling that Xu Jingzhen was mostly just messing with him.

The Red Phoenix star moving was impossible; he had no one in his heart.

The one developing feelings was probably Xu Jingzhen himself; because his own heart was moved, he looked at everyone else as if they were in love.

But… there was fruit.

Like a shadow, He Tingtong chased after him, going to the fruit stall alongside Xu Jingzhen.

They were indeed freshly transported melons and fruits, placed on crushed ice. Pengzhou was bitterly hot, and the ice melted extremely fast, creating a puddle of water on the ground. However, the fruits were thoroughly chilled, beaded with moisture, and felt icy cold to the touch.

However, this fruit had clearly already been picked over once, and the remaining ones didn’t look very good.

He Tingtong picked up a melon and knocked on it. Suddenly, he thought of Fu Fengyan’s fear of the heat, looking as if he wished he could bury himself in ice. The food in Pengzhou was coarse. Let alone pastry shops, there weren’t even many eateries; mostly they sold flatbreads and dried meat that scraped the throat when chewed, even worse than fasting pills.

Perhaps eating some fruit could relieve the heat.

So he looked up and asked the shopkeeper: “How much for one melon?”

The shopkeeper held up five fingers.

He Tingtong: “Five spirit pearls?” A bit expensive, but transporting fruits and vegetables wasn’t easy; this price was reasonable.

The shopkeeper spat: “This is a spirit melon transported from the Central State, how could it be that cheap? Fifty spirit pearls, take it or leave it, poor people scram far away.”

He Tingtong: “…”

Beside him, Xu Jingzhen leisurely picked out a few slightly better-looking fruits, filling a whole basket. He turned his head to look at He Tingtong, his eyes filled with the confidence of a wealthy man: “Together? I’ll pay?”

He Tingtong slapped down fifty spirit pearls, his heart aching slightly: “No need, I have money.”

---

Fu Fengyan sat quietly leaning against the wall, wind and sand rolling at his feet. He remained motionless, like a weather-beaten stone.

He stared fixedly at that small dilapidated house in the distance, not blinking an eye.

Since He Tingtong and the other left, there had been no movement from that small dilapidated house, as if the person inside had truly fallen into a deep sleep. It wasn’t until half an hour after they left that a pitch-black, ink-like shadow slid out from the crack in the door, disappearing in an instant along the edges and corners of the walls.

Fu Fengyan followed unhurriedly, watching as that pitch-black ink shadow gradually grew limbs after passing a few houses, transforming into a thin, ordinary human figure, and stepping into the Mirage Sea Assembly’s casino.

Zhou Jinsheng won every bet he placed. Starting with one spirit pearl as capital, one turned into ten, ten into a hundred, a hundred into a thousand, a thousand into ten thousand, a hundred thousand, a million, ten million… until there weren’t enough chips. Spirit pearls piled up like a mountain in front of the young man. He only played with the very first, lustrous white, round pearl, betting all the chips once again. If he won this round, it would be enough to empty the entire casino’s treasury.

The casino’s manager realized this was someone coming to smash the venue. He approached respectfully, offering tea, wine, and fruit, and asked what he wanted to do.

The pale, cold-faced young man coughed low twice and only said: “Call your master over. I’ll wait for him here.”

The casino closed its doors, and the boss cleared the venue. A quarter of an hour later, Uman arrived in person. He stared at this pale, unfamiliar young man in front of him, secretly on guard: “What business brings you here, brother?”

Zhou Jinsheng’s sitting posture was so upright it was rigid. He raised his eyes, his face expressionless. Pointing at the gambling table, he coughed and asked: “A gamble?”

“Do you know that I win every bet I place?” Uman smiled contemptuously: “These few chips aren’t enough for me to make a move. If you want money, you can take all the chips today. If you want to be a guest elder, I, Uman, will sweep the couch to welcome you. If you just want to gamble, you can leave.”

With a clunk, Zhou Jinsheng tossed that spirit pearl onto the table. He stared at Uman frankly and directly. Those eyes, dulled by illness, looked as if they were covered with a layer of dust, murky and chaotic, making it impossible to discern any emotion within. Leaning against the table, he said faintly: “I want to gamble for your life.”

That night, Uman suffered a crushing defeat.

It was originally a single game to determine the winner, but it later turned into best-two-out-of-three, then best-three-out-of-five. Looking at the dice, Uman’s palms were slightly sweaty. The young man across from him was dressed entirely in black, his skin as white as snow, like an ink painting transferred from paper, his whole body exuding a chilling ghostly aura.

In such scorching hot weather, he actually felt a subtle chill.

Uman had started as a lowly outer disciple of an immortal sect, enduring humiliation all the way, working like a horse for the Mo family, acting as a dog for the Xiangli family, until he finally built his current enterprise. He had even allied with Meng Zhezhi to kill his rival. He couldn’t touch the Rakshasa Ghost Market, but he could encroach upon most of the Silver Moon Ancient Assembly.

He was exactly at his prime, like the sun at high noon; wanting him to die was impossible.

Only an angry shout was heard, then the card table flipped, a long blade was unsheathed, and it chopped towards the young man opposite him with the force of toppling mountains and overturning seas. With his pale hand, Zhou Jinsheng flicked the dice, revealing the points underneath. He raised his eyes, expressionless, and only said: “I won.”

The long blade violently slashed into the young man’s body, slicing it in two, yet no sound of bone and blood breaking was heard, only the tearing sound of paper ripping. Then the figure vanished, and amid the shattered desk, an ink paper sliced in half drifted through the air.

Three days later, he would take his life.

The sky in the east grew bright.

Xu Jingzhen pushed open the main door stealthily. Just as he poked his head in, he saw Zhou Jinsheng slowly sitting up, supporting himself on the bed. He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all during this rest, his face even paler.

“You’re back.” The young man’s eyes and brows curved slightly, as fragile as colored glass.

From behind his back, Xu Jingzhen lifted a basket of water-beaded fruit, presenting it to him like offering a treasure: “I came across a fruit stall. These peaches are sweet, do you want me to peel one for you?”

Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze shifted back, glancing behind Xu Jingzhen, and found no one there.

“Where is the little brother from last night?”

“Him?” Xu Jingzhen raised his eyebrows slightly: “He doesn’t have the fortune to enjoy this, he went home to catch up on sleep.”

With one stroke of He Tingtong’s sword, the moment it touched the melon rind, that lopsided melon instantly split in two. The cracking sound was crisp. Fortunately, although it looked quite ugly, the rind was thin and the flesh red, overflowing with melon fragrance.

He Tingtong handed one half to Fu Fengyan, saying boldly: “Here, eat.”

The two of them were situated in the shadow of a sand dune in the desolate outskirts, surrounded by boundless yellow sand. The morning sun gradually rose, and the air began to turn scalding hot. Fu Fengyan’s whole body was burning up. Holding the juicy, icy-cold melon, he was momentarily stunned. After a long while, he lowered his head and took a bite. The crisp melon flesh shattered in his mouth, juice filling it. The heat all over his body seemed to dissipate significantly, as if he had been immersed in a pool of sweet, icy water, instantly banishing the summer heat.

Fu Fengyan suddenly wanted to set this melon up as an offering, but met with He Tingtong’s strict opposition, so he had to drop the idea.

After finishing the melon, the two began exchanging what they had seen and heard the previous night.