Two weeks had passed since Luo Yun killed the Shadow Wolf and consumed the spirit grass.
In that time, he continued his training with even more focus. His muscles grew firmer, his movements faster. His wounds had healed completely. Most importantly, the warm current inside him—the one that marked the beginning of his cultivation—was now stronger and easier to control.
But with every breakthrough came a question he could no longer ignore:
What now?
He had started down the path of cultivation… but where was the path leading?
He had no manual beyond the basics. No pills, no new techniques. And while body cultivation required fewer resources than other paths, it still demanded something—spirit herbs, rare minerals, at least some form of guidance.
Without help, he would hit a wall. Sooner or later.
He needed to find a way out.
That opportunity came in the form of a rumor.
One evening, while delivering chopped firewood to the village tavern, Luo Yun overheard two traveling merchants chatting.
"You hear about the rogue market at Black Rock Hill?"
"Course I did. Bunch of tán tu selling spirit herbs, low-grade pills, old manuals… I even saw a guy with a half-broken flying sword!"
"You're crazy if you go there. It's illegal. If a proper sect finds out…"
"Then we all die. But hey—sometimes, it's worth the risk."
Luo Yun kept his head down and pretended not to listen. But his heart was beating faster.
A rogue cultivator market?
It was dangerous, no doubt. But it might be the only place he could find something to push his cultivation further.
That night, under a moonless sky, Luo Yun left the village again.
He didn't say goodbye. No one would've noticed if he had.
Black Rock Hill was a day's walk to the west. A craggy, uneven stretch of land full of caves and cliffs, said to be haunted by beasts and criminals alike. Even the village hunters avoided it.
By the time Luo Yun reached it, the sun had already set. He climbed carefully, avoiding loose rocks, until he saw it—
A narrow cave entrance with a faint light glowing inside.
He stepped in.
What he found was something he never could have imagined.
The cave widened into a large underground chamber, filled with the flicker of spirit lanterns. The walls were damp, but the space was dry and surprisingly organized.
Dozens of stalls had been set up. Robed figures—some with masks, some with hoods—stood behind wooden counters. Their tables were lined with small jade bottles, talismans, faded scrolls, and strange-looking stones.
People whispered, bargained, argued quietly.
Luo Yun had stepped into a hidden market for rogue cultivators.
And no one paid him any attention.
That suited him fine.
He wandered, eyes wide, trying to understand what he was seeing.
One stall had beast fangs that shimmered faintly. Another offered low-grade Qi Gathering Pills—way out of his reach. A few sold manuals, but most were incomplete or damaged.
Then one table caught his eye.
A short, hunched old man with a straw hat sat behind it. His table had only two items: a rolled-up scroll and a single black iron bracer.
The scroll was labeled:
"Ironblood Tempering Technique – Body Cultivation, Tier 1 (Partial Copy)"
Luo Yun's breath caught.
It was exactly what he was looking for—a follow-up technique for his path.
He stepped forward. "How much?"
The old man looked up slowly. His eyes were sharp and surprisingly clear.
"You're a first-stage body cultivator," he said calmly. "Barely stabilized."
Luo Yun froze.
The old man chuckled. "Don't worry. No one here cares who you are."
He tapped the scroll. "This thing? Thirty low-grade spirit stones."
"I… don't have any spirit stones."
"Of course you don't." The old man studied him for a moment. "You do have something else, though."
He pointed at Luo Yun's arm.
The old man had noticed the fang scar left by the Shadow Wolf.
"That's Shadow Wolf blood on your sleeve," he said. "And you're still alive."
"You want the scroll?" he continued. "Then do something for me."
The deal was simple—on the surface.
A rogue cultivator had gone missing two days ago near the northern ridge of Black Rock Hill. The old man wanted someone to retrieve a sealed pouch the man had been carrying.
"Why me?" Luo Yun asked, cautious.
"Because you're not important enough for anyone to notice," the old man replied. "And because you're desperate enough to say yes."
He wasn't wrong.
The next morning, before the market opened again, Luo Yun set off toward the northern ridge.
The path was steep and narrow. Birdsong gave way to silence. The deeper he went, the more he felt it—a strange pressure in the air. Not quite spiritual energy, but something similar. Heavy.
He found the corpse near a stream. It was torn open, the blood already dry. The man's pouch was missing—but nearby, Luo Yun spotted a trail of blood leading into a dense thicket.
Cautiously, he followed it.
Inside, he found a small den. And inside the den—
A Steelhide Boar.
It wasn't a spirit beast… but it was close. Its body was covered in thick, metallic fur. Its eyes were bloodshot. And beside it, half-buried in the dirt, was a leather pouch.
The boar noticed him.
And charged.
Luo Yun dodged left, barely avoiding the tusks. He slashed with his knife—no effect. The blade bounced off the steel-like fur.
He couldn't win head-on.
So he ran.
The boar chased.
He led it through trees, over rocks, past fallen logs. Finally, he found a narrow crevice between two boulders. He squeezed through. The boar tried to follow—
And got stuck.
Without wasting time, Luo Yun climbed up the rock and dropped onto its back. This time, he aimed for the eye.
The knife plunged in.
The boar shrieked and thrashed—once, twice—then collapsed.
Breathing hard, Luo Yun crawled to the pouch and opened it.
Inside was a small jade bottle, a folded map, and—
A single spirit stone.
That night, he returned to the market.
The old man took the pouch, looked inside, and nodded.
"You're braver than you look."
He handed over the scroll. "It's incomplete, but it'll do for now. Train hard, don't die."
Luo Yun bowed. "Thank you."
As he left, the old man called after him.
"Kid."
Luo Yun turned.
"You're not the first to start from nothing," the man said. "But very few finish the climb. Keep walking. Or get buried."