Chapter Twenty-Seven: Bad News

Inside the assembly hall.

With the appearance of the Rebirth Pill, the atmosphere of the auction reached its peak in an instant. After several rounds of fierce bidding, the pills were finally sold at the astonishing price of four thousand five hundred spirit stones each, taken by three late-stage Qi Refinement cultivators.

Even Gu Qingzhao, who rarely showed emotion, allowed herself a faint smile. She exchanged a few polite words with Su Yuqing in the private box, then left to handle the subsequent arrangements.

When all was finished, Qin Ming and Su Yuqing took their leave at once. This experience made Qin Ming even more eager to master the art of alchemy. Su Yuqing, just from this one auction, netted nearly ten thousand spirit stones after deducting the auction house's fees.

“Next time, I must succeed in refining pills!” Qin Ming vowed silently.

“Brother Su, you said that if I helped you plant spiritual crops this year, you'd grant me a favor. I wonder... if I wish to borrow your alchemy room to practice, would that be possible?” Qin Ming spoke his request hesitantly. After all, this touched upon Su Yuqing’s privacy, and he felt it was a rather bold request.

Su Yuqing was taken aback, sized Qin Ming up, then laughed, “Brother Qin, you really are tenacious, aren’t you…”

“Let me be frank: the art of alchemy is all about talent, and above all, the strength of a cultivator’s soul!”

“In pill refinement, you must often multitask—split your attention two, three, or more ways. Without powerful soul force to support you, even just controlling the fire and fusing the medicinal base are impossible to sustain.”

“In alchemy, talent determines your limits—otherwise, you’re simply wasting your time.”

Yet Qin Ming’s eyes brightened at this. Soul force… That was something he could strengthen.

For him, diligent farming was the way!

“I… I still want to try. If I can’t achieve anything in this field by the end of the year, I’ll give up on it,” Qin Ming replied to Su Yuqing.

“Very well, since I promised you,” Su Yuqing agreed. “My word is my bond. As long as I’m not using the alchemy room, you’re welcome to it.”

“In any case… I won’t be here much longer…” Su Yuqing lifted his gaze to the distant horizon and spoke softly.

Qin Ming was overjoyed.

“I can make use of the Earthfire Vein for free.”

As they spoke, a massive shadow swept across the sky above Qingyang Market.

Qin Ming looked up in surprise. A giant magic vessel, nearly a hundred yards long, entered his view. On its deck stood three exquisitely constructed buildings. Judging by the interior, there must have been thousands of rooms aboard.

The massive vessel, like some ancient beast, radiated power and majesty, revealing the depth of its sect’s foundation.

In an instant, all the cultivators in the market noticed, and heads turned upward. Everyone was stunned.

Qin Ming, already aware of this from Manager Liao, remained calm and his expression unchanged.

“Look!” someone shouted. “Even the Crossing Abyss Vessel of the Feathered Wing Sect has arrived!”

“Is something about to happen?”

…

Su Yuqing glanced upward, lost in thought.

The Feathered Wing Sect’s Crossing Abyss Vessel docked beside the market, and people began streaming off in a steady flow. Leading the way were five Foundation Establishment elders, followed by four inner disciples clad in blue robes embroidered with golden thread. Each radiated the aura of late-stage Qi Refinement.

“They’ve even sent core disciples,” someone murmured. “Something major is definitely happening in Qingyang Market.”

“What could it be?”

The crowd of cultivators grew restless and uneasy.

Qin Ming’s expression was grave, lost in contemplation.

With the arrival of the Feathered Wing Sect’s elite, three days later another vessel, no less grand, docked near Qingyang Market. Its flags, bearing the name “Golden Cloud Valley,” fluttered in the wind.

Aboard were the sect’s elite, dressed in red robes.

After Golden Cloud Valley arrived, they too began setting up camp near the market.

Suddenly, the number of cultivators in Qingyang Market soared, overflowing the area. Even the shantytown quarters were rented out completely.

Soon after, the Feathered Wing Sect and Golden Cloud Valley jointly announced the formation of an alliance. They would construct a “Cloud Marsh Immortal City” five hundred miles from Qingyang Market, at Five Peaks Mountain.

News of this caused an uproar, with countless discussions erupting.

Qin Ming sat alone in his room, pondering his future.

Now that the shantytown was crowded, all sorts of cultivators mingled—good and bad alike. Even with the Feathered Wing Sect’s patrols, there were simply too many people to manage. Incidents of murder and robbery would soon become frequent again.

Though Qin Ming’s strength was enough to handle cultivators at the sixth level of Qi Refinement, he couldn’t shake the sense of unease—especially knowing that even someone like Daoist Long, at the eighth level, had been killed and dumped in the river.

Qin Ming began cooking blood locust rice, and, following the beast-skin manual, continued cultivating the sixth layer of the “Hundred Treasures Glass Scripture.”

Late at night, after cultivation, he felt his internal blood energy grow even stronger.

“No, I must move into the market proper,” Qin Ming mused. He quickly sent a message talisman to Manager Liao, asking if there was any way to secure a rental inside the market.

Soon, Manager Liao replied.

“Daoist Qin, you’re well aware of the situation. Prices for housing inside the market have skyrocketed—unless you wait for the allied army to finish building the Immortal City, there won’t be any vacancies soon.”

“However… I heard from the Feathered Wing Sect that Daoist Ruan’s family visited the Hall of Affairs. They reported that the soul lantern Daoist Ruan left at home had been extinguished.”

“The remaining Ruan family members can’t afford the rent anymore, so they’ve processed the withdrawal. The Ruan family’s courtyard is now vacant.”

“I’ll see if there’s a chance to secure it for you.”

Qin Ming pursed his lips at this.

“What a coincidence—Daoist Ruan was personally sent on his way. This is serendipity.”

Mid-April.

Qin Ming was working in the fields when Deacon Gu’s magic vessel hovered overhead. Overseer Du Haifu arrived with him.

After gathering all the spiritual farmers together, Deacon Gu, his face stern and emotionless, announced in a commanding tone, “Due to the urgent situation at the front lines, the sect has dispatched a large number of reinforcements.”

“Until Cloud Marsh Immortal City is completed, all spiritual farmers’ rice tax will be increased by another ten percent.”

This announcement drew a wave of protests from the farmers.

“What?! Another increase?”

“That’s an eighty percent tax!”

“How are we supposed to survive?!”

Old Cai stood beside Qin Ming, his face clouded with worry.

“Oh, Brother Qin, what are we to do?”

Qin Ming’s brows were tightly knit. Though his own tax had been halved, now it would rise again—amounting to forty-five percent of his spiritual rice.

He couldn’t help but mutter inwardly:

“They’re harvesting the crops too soon—not even grown yet.”