Chapter Twenty-One: Greed

"Why has Daoist Ruan gone out again!?"
Qin Ming had not expected it—he had missed him once more. After experiencing the transformation brought forth by the 'Hundred-Treasure Glass Scripture,' his curiosity about the remaining techniques gnawed at him unbearably... It seemed he could do nothing but wait a little longer.

He wandered through other shops in the market, purchasing a spirit beast pouch and some meat before returning to the slums.

The next morning, Qin Ming made breakfast with golden spirit rice and demon beast meat. He was just about to eat when—knock, knock, knock!—someone rapped at the door.

Peering through the crack, he saw it was a neighbor from nearby, someone he barely interacted with. Out of courtesy, Qin Ming invited him in.

"Heh heh, I heard Daoist Qin has become a first-rank spirit planter; I’ve come to offer my congratulations! A small token—nothing much, but I hope you’ll accept it."

With that, the visitor handed over a small bag of gifts. Seeing such enthusiasm, Qin Ming could not refuse and accepted with thanks.

When the neighbor's gaze fell upon the meal on Qin Ming’s table—the dishes made from demon beast meat and spirit rice—an unmistakable envy flickered across his face. After a round of pleasantries, the man took his leave.

Qin Ming finished his meal and was about to wash the dishes.

Knock, knock, knock!

Again, someone was at the door.

Qin Ming frowned, muttering to himself, "What’s going on today?"

He glanced out through the door crack as usual. This time, the sight nearly startled him.

Good heavens!

It was his female neighbor... Li Yanli.

She was dressed with particular care today, holding a small package as well. Qin Ming, seeing her like this, breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness, she’s probably just here to be neighborly. Just socializing. Nothing else.

Li Yanli entered, offered her congratulations, chatted briefly, and prepared to leave. Her face seemed wan and drawn, and though she wore makeup, Qin Ming saw through it at a glance.

"It seems she still hasn't recovered from Daoist Long’s death..."

Having lost her great protector, Long, her days ahead would likely be difficult.

Qin Ming did not ask her to stay. As she departed, Li Yanli left behind a glance full of unspoken sorrow and resentment.

Over the following days, quite a few cultivators from the neighborhood came by to pay their respects and get acquainted.

Qin Ming found this rather tiresome. He was not fond of such social situations. Though the gifts were never extravagant, he could not bring himself to refuse their goodwill, so he thanked each visitor in turn.

One day, Qin Ming was seated on his meditation mat, cultivating, when suddenly his message talisman activated.

He stopped and opened his eyes to check the message.

"Daoist Qin, are you available now? I happen to be passing near the market, but I have urgent business and can’t go home. I may be gone for a year or two, or even three to five years. If it’s convenient, we can finish our transaction. Don’t worry, I just ran into some friends from the Feathered Plume Sect patrol—they’re here with me."

Qin Ming hesitated for a moment before replying, "Where shall we meet?"

"On the road east of the market."

"Alright, I’ll come over."

After sending the message, Qin Ming gathered his things and left.

As he passed the river by the slums, a few middle-aged female cultivators were washing clothes. They saw Qin Ming but did not greet him. After he walked away, they exchanged sidelong glances and muttered resentfully:

"Tch—just a first-rank spirit planter. Not even a first-rank alchemist. What’s so great about that!"

One of them spoke loudly enough that Qin Ming, not yet far away, heard every word.

He curled his lip but ignored her.

...

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Qin Ming reached the area Daoist Ruan had specified. He did not show himself immediately, but observed from a distance.

A cold wind swept the wild grass flanking the endless fields on either side of the road. Not far off, figures appeared—Ruan was chatting amiably with two members of the Feathered Plume Sect patrol.

Qin Ming recognized the two. They often patrolled the alleys of the slums and were familiar faces.

"So it’s them," he thought, his suspicions eased.

He stepped out and walked straight toward the group.

"Ah, Daoist Qin, you’re here! Gentlemen, please wait a moment," Ruan said, excusing himself from the patrollers and hurrying over.

"Daoist Qin, my apologies—I’ve been swamped with urgent matters lately," Ruan greeted him with a cupped-fist salute.

"No problem, Daoist Ruan. You have the goods with you?" Qin Ming forced a smile.

"Of course. By the way, Daoist Qin, your Beast Fang Rice must be ready for harvest, isn’t it?" Ruan’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Qin Ming tapped his storage pouch and produced a small sack of Beast Fang Rice—exactly ten pounds—showing it to Ruan.

The rice grains, white as canine teeth with a blush of red within, exuded a captivating fragrance.

"Indeed, it’s Beast Fang Rice, and of fine quality!" Ruan’s eyes flashed with an almost imperceptible greed.

"May I ask, Daoist Qin, did you harvest much more than these ten pounds?"

The question made Qin Ming frown.

"Daoist Ruan, how much I harvested is hardly your concern, is it?"

"Heh, of course, just making conversation," Ruan replied awkwardly.

He then produced the beast hide inscribed with the 'Hundred-Treasure Glass Scripture.'

The two exchanged rice for scripture—one for one.

With the beast hide in hand, Qin Ming inspected it and was about to relax when—

"Something’s wrong!"

The protective aura of his blood energy suddenly detected an intense killing intent!

This warning transmitted directly and unmistakably to his mind.

Though Qin Ming had noticed the anomaly, he betrayed nothing, continuing to peruse the scripture as if nothing had happened.

One... two... three... four... five...

There were five distinct murderous intents converging silently upon him.

Three came from Ruan and the two Feathered Plume Sect patrol cultivators.

The other two, their sources still hidden, had not yet shown themselves.

In an instant, Qin Ming realized the danger he was in.

Yet his face showed not the slightest trace of panic.

Ruan was at the mid-fifth layer of Qi Refining; the two patrolmen, one at fifth layer, the other at sixth.

As for the two in hiding, Qin Ming could not yet sense their cultivation.

In the space of a few heartbeats, countless thoughts flashed through his mind.

He made his decision.

A cold, ruthless glint passed through Qin Ming’s eyes, almost too quick to notice.