"Er Niu's meaning was pretty obvious—the Beast-Taming Zhou Clan has a talisman crafting inheritance. Then again, it makes sense. The Zhou family has over two hundred years of foundation," Lin Chang'an muttered as he gazed into the night, brows furrowed.
"Hard to believe that just a few months ago, I was still struggling to scrape together spirit crystals. Now I'm already scheming to acquire mid-grade Tier-1 talisman crafting skills. Human nature really is greedy," he said, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile.
Tier-1 low-grade talismans were sold for spirit crystals, but mid-grade ones started at spirit stones—each worth dozens of spirit crystals.
"Of course, such manuals aren't entirely absent in the wild, but they're usually in the hands of only a few cultivators. Occasionally, they might appear at auctions."
"But joining a cultivation clan comes at the cost of freedom. Still, with the large-scale land-clearing initiative underway, these next two to three years won't be peaceful. That means the clans might offer better terms during recruitment."
As Lin Chang'an analyzed quietly, his hands kept moving, repeatedly manipulating the Green Bamboo Sword in and out of his storage pouch.
By the time night fell and the market grew silent, he finally looked up and muttered, "Time to visit the black market. Maybe I'll get lucky. At the very least, I need to exchange for more spirit crystals."
He placed a thick stack of Tier-1 low-grade Swift Movement Talismans he had drawn recently into his storage pouch, along with the Green Bamboo Sword. He hadn't just been playing around with the sword—he had been practicing how to quickly retrieve it from the pouch, ensuring he could draw it immediately in battle.
"Selling cheap talismans like these? No respectable mid-stage Qi cultivator would be caught dead using them—unless they were truly desperate."
Grinning at his reflection, Lin Chang'an's facial muscles began to twist and shift. Even his build altered slightly. A thuggish, brutish face full of fat and menace emerged—completely unrecognizable from his usual self.
Satisfied, he nodded at his disguise. "This will make my trip to the black market a lot safer."
Before he stepped into the cultivation world, Lin had trained in martial arts back in the mortal realm. Like the old saying goes, "Master your skills to serve the emperor"—he had chosen to enter the capital. By pure chance, he met Master Lu, a cultivator in the royal mansion, who introduced him to the world of cultivation, shaping the last twenty years of his life.
"But I can't afford to let my guard down."
With his advanced-level Breath Concealment technique, he masked his presence to appear like a mere second-layer Qi cultivator. With this, unless someone was above the sixth layer, they wouldn't see through him.
Donning a black robe and straw hat, he took a mundane sword from by the door—just in case.
Under the veil of night, the outskirts of the market were already swarming with shadowy figures. This was the so-called black market.
Beyond being a haven for shady transactions and secret trades, the black market had one major advantage: low stall fees.
You could find everything here—beast meat, talismans, pills, even magic tools.
People here kept their heads down, quickly buying what they wanted and leaving without a word. The low stall fees came at the price of low security, so everyone was careful to stay anonymous.
The black market only operated for two hours each night. Once daylight broke, it would vanish without a trace.
There was no shouting, just wooden signs posted by each stall:
"Beast Meat: 12 jin for 1 spirit crystal"
"Fireball Talismans: 2 spirit crystals each; 6 for 10"
Lin Chang'an, no stranger to the place, paid the entrance fee of one spirit crystal. Hidden under his hat, his menacing face made many avert their eyes.
His own stall sign read:"Tier-1 Low-Grade Swift Movement Talismans – 2 spirit crystals each; 6 for 10"
Talismans were consumables. Swift Movement and defensive talismans, which improved survival chances, were always in demand.
"Six," said a cloaked figure, tossing ten spirit crystals onto the stall without further conversation.
Lin Chang'an silently handed over six talismans—first transaction complete.
He knew that if he priced them 7 for 10, he'd sell out immediately—but that would attract attention. Standing out was dangerous without the power to back it up.
Blending in was survival.
"Looks like the influx of outsiders is real."
While running his stall, Lin Chang'an also observed the crowd. He had lived in this area for five years before moving up—this place was familiar.
Clearly, the ongoing land-clearing efforts had drawn in many rogue cultivators. The population had tripled, maybe more, and cheap goods on the outskirts were disappearing fast.
In under half an hour, his talismans were sold out. But Lin Chang'an didn't feel relief—he was worried.
More cultivators meant more trade—but also more danger. Especially from rule-breaking outsiders.
"I just hope this doesn't spiral into chaos."
Having lived here for two decades, Lin had seen this kind of thing before. He was glad he no longer lived in the outskirts.
After packing up his stall, he ventured deeper into the black market to try his luck at finding a genuine mid-grade Tier-1 talisman crafting manual.
Unfortunately, after circling the area, he found himself frowning.
As expected, there were too many of them.
Talisman manuals, pill recipes, forging guides, array diagrams—they were everywhere. Prices ranged from a few spirit crystals to over a dozen spirit stones.
"Typical. The local cultivators have set up shop to scam the newcomers."
Outsiders might be reckless, but locals were full-on swindlers.
Who would dare buy these things? There was no way to confirm authenticity. And in the black market, once you were scammed, you'd never find the culprit again.
Sure, experienced eyes could spot fakes instantly—but the real tricksters? They'd show you a genuine first page, while the rest was trash. That was the black market—full of smoke and mirrors.
Even so, every year, countless new cultivators came here chasing dreams—dreams of riding flying swords, becoming mighty Foundation Establishment cultivators.
"Everything I've seen is fake."
Hoping to rely on his experience to find a hidden gem, Lin Chang'an sighed in disappointment. Tales of lucky finds were just that—tales.
"A real mid-grade crafting manual is truly rare."
Unwilling to give up, he made another round, but finally gave up with a sigh.
Sometimes, unsavory goods did appear in the black market—spoils taken from unlucky talisman masters or their descendants.
But not tonight.
As dawn approached, Lin Chang'an left the market, muttering, "Best to stick to solid work."
Unbeknownst to him, he was being watched.
In the shadows, three figures emerged from the black market, trailing behind.
"Boss, that guy's our target. I've been watching him for a while. He's wandered around three times and didn't buy a thing."
The three exchanged glances and nodded.
No one comes to the black market just to browse. If you don't buy anything, there's only one explanation—you're broke.
Broke means weak.
And weak means easy pickings.
Time to make a kill.