Chapter Twelve: Black Market Confrontation
The torrential rain washed over the black market's bluestone slabs beneath Broken Dragon Cliff. Lu Qingyang squatted in the shadow of the eaves, counting Spirit Stones. His Storage Pouch at his waist bulged with three purple-veined ginseng, which were sub-par products ripened in the qingmu spirit pearl's space—their roots deliberately left un-trimmed with mud stains, making them look like burial goods just dug up from some grave.
"The threshold of Qi Condensation Fourth Layer has me stuck for half a year..." He spat, his fingertips caressing the cracks on the surface of the qingmu spirit pearl. Since forcibly ripening the dragon blood grass half a month ago, which led to the Spiritual Field withering, the time flow within the pearl had dropped to 1:3. The shopkeeper of "Hundred Herbs Pavilion" across the way poked out his plump head and shouted: "Buying Spirit Medicine from Nether Abyss!"
Lu Qingyang flicked off the rotten bone flower pollen clinging to his clothes and swaggered into the shop, holding the ginseng. The chubby shopkeeper behind the counter narrowed his triangular eyes, his two rat-like whiskers twitching with his nostrils: "Fellow Daoist, this ginseng... isn't it Ghost goods trafficked from the Ghost Market?"
"What are you saying?" The young man bared his canine teeth, his fingernail scratching a bloodline on the ginseng body, "Purple-veined ginseng seeps black juice when it encounters Yin Qi. Look, this juice is so clear it can reflect the shopkeeper's nose hairs—" Before he finished speaking, he suddenly snatched the ginseng and retreated three steps, narrowly avoiding the immortal binding rope that shot down from the beam.
The chubby shopkeeper slammed the table, and the jade pendant at his waist burst with green light: "A wanted criminal of Taiyi Pavilion dares..." He suddenly fell silent as the nine-ringed saber shattered the counter; the saber's notch was clearly the relic of Black Heart Tiger. Lu Qingyang stepped on the rolling Spirit Stone pouch and sneered: "Three years ago, you used a False Pill Formula to trick my master out of half his life. Today, this ginseng serves as interest."
The night watchman in the dark alley struck the third beat, and the young man had already slipped into the dilapidated temple south of the city. The secret passage under the offering table led to an underground auction house, where seven or eight corpses were soaked in foul-smelling blood—all fools who wanted to monopolize the "Burial Dragon Abyss Secret Map." He skillfully stripped the Storage Rings from the corpses, muttering: "The Cloud-Piercing Boots are good, but unfortunately, they're tainted with corpse poison..."
The Dragon bone lamp on the auction stage suddenly lit up, and Lu Qingyang shrank into the corner shadows. When the masked female Cultivator presented the jade box containing the foundation establishment pill, the spirit pearl in his crotch suddenly became hot—the withered dragon blood grass within the pearl actually sprouted new shoots amidst the scent of the Pill.
"Two hundred Spirit Stones!" The Young Master in luxurious robes in the front row trembled as he raised his bid. Lu Qingyang picked a mud pellet from the sole of his foot and flicked it at the back of the bidder's neck, causing the person to scratch his ears and cheeks, acting like a madman. Amidst the chaos in the hall, he lowered his voice: "Wait! This Pill was tempered with Netherworld Water. Everyone, smell if the bottom of the box has a fishy odor?"
The masked female Cultivator's short sword suddenly unsheathed three inches from her sleeve, but it froze when the young man revealed half a bronze fragment. It was the Burial Dragon Abyss key he had tricked from Su Li, and at this moment, it resonated strangely with the Pill patterns inside the jade box. Ultimately, the foundation establishment pill was sold for eighty Spirit Stones, and Lu Qingyang, in turn, pawned the key fragment to the dealer: "Bet big."
The moment the dice cup was opened, the hourglass in the qingmu spirit pearl space overturned with a roar. A revolving lantern-like illusion flashed before his eyes: the chubby shopkeeper's whiskers turned into chains, the dice transformed into roaring skeletons, and the dealer's palm concealed Taiyi Pavilion's Soul-Chasing Mark... As cold sweat soaked his back, Su Li's voice transmission sounded in his ear: "If you dare to swallow the dragon blood grass alone, be careful, this grandma will castrate you!"
Lu Qingyang grabbed the Spirit Stones he had won and fled out the door, but at the corner of the secret passage, he ran into an unexpected person—the Xuan-robed Cultivator who appeared that night at Old Drunkard's grave, who was now picking his teeth with his Natal Sword. The half piece of mung bean cake impaled on the sword's tip was precisely the stolen goods pawned at the pawn shop this morning.
"Ye Wuchen, Head of Taiyi Pavilion's Law Enforcement Hall." The Cultivator flicked away the cake crumbs, and the golden lotus on his sleeve moved without wind, "The qingmu spirit pearl your master stole three years ago..." Before he finished speaking, he suddenly retreated violently, and a cloud of dark green poisonous mist exploded where he had stood—Lu Qingyang had crushed the Heart-Corroding Pill he had scrounged from the corpse.
The young man crashed through the dark river's sluice gate and dived underwater, the Spirit Stones in his arms clinking loudly. In the turbulent current, he formed a hand seal to activate the qingmu spirit pearl; the withered dragon blood grass frantically devoured Spiritual Qi, and in a blink of an eye, a scab-like fruit formed. As the sword light behind him sliced through the riverbed, he swallowed the fruit without hesitation, and his Dantian instantly felt as if it were being cut by a thousand knives.
"Qi Condensation Fourth Layer, break!" Amidst the roar mixed with blood foam, the cracks on the qingmu spirit pearl spread like a spiderweb. Lu Qingyang surfaced, bleeding from all seven orifices, but a swirling vortex of Qi, both ethereal and substantial, had condensed in his palm—that was the nascent form of a "False Core" that only Foundation Establishment Cultivators possessed. Ye Wuchen's sword's edge stopped abruptly before touching his throat, his pupils reflecting the Dragon-shaped phantom appearing behind the young man.
A huge sound suddenly came from the direction of the auction house, and Taiyi Pavilion's pursuers were drawn away by the soaring flames. Lu Qingyang collapsed in the reeds, chuckling lowly, revealing his blood-stained canine teeth: "Head Ye, do you know that foundation establishment pill just now... used your sister's heart blood?"
As the sound of sword cries echoed across the fields, the young man had already crushed a Earth Evasion Talisman. The communication Talisman he left in the mud sizzled, transmitting Su Li's sweet-sounding final words: "The entrance to Burial Dragon Abyss has appeared. If you don't come to split the spoils..."
