a journey into immortal cultivation

Chapter 32: The Deal

Chapter 32: The Trade

Over the next few days, whenever he wasn’t in the dream-space, Wang Lin was busy stockpiling snow water. If he hadn’t worried about spiritual energy leaking everywhere, he would have used large vats as containers; as it was, he could only use gourds. Luckily, he had plenty of them. In just a few days he filled several hundred small gourds—by his reckoning, enough snow water to last him a long while in the dream realm.

Once the gourds were put away, Wang Lin resumed cultivating. The spring water’s effect had weakened somewhat, but it hadn’t failed entirely; it still worked.

Ten days flashed by. In those ten days, Wang Lin drank far more spring water than before. Fortunately, once the water entered his stomach it broke down immediately into spiritual energy; otherwise his belly would never have held that much liquid.

The second layer of Qi Condensation required several times the spiritual energy of the first. By now, Wang Lin had effectively cultivated for more than nine months inside the dream-space. If this were the first layer, nine months of nonstop training with abundant spiritual energy would have yielded noticeable results. But now, although he felt his inner energy had increased a great deal, it still wasn’t where he wanted it to be.

On the agreed day, Wang Lin skipped entering the dream-space and waited for Wang Hao instead. Near midnight, with snow falling again outside, Wang Hao’s figure appeared within the range of Wang Lin’s divine sense.

Moments later, Wang Hao pushed the door open but didn’t step in. “Master got held up refining pills. It was hard enough for me to slip out. Come on— the exchange is about to start.”

He turned and hurried off through the snow. Wang Lin followed.

They trod the icy paths through the sect, soon passed beyond the gates, and took a narrow mountain trail deeper into the range.

The road was slick, and Wang Hao dared not go fast. Shivering, he grumbled under his breath, “Damn this ghost weather. If I slip into a ravine, I’ll haunt someone for justice.”

Wang Lin’s body felt light now; he didn’t share the sentiment. If anything, he thought this weather was perfect—once the exchange ended, he could stock up even more snow water.

After a while, Wang Hao stopped, turned back, and furtively handed Wang Lin a green pill. “We’re close. I scouted it a few days ago—two or three more bends and we’re there. Take this first so no one can tell who you are.”

He popped an identical pill into his mouth. At once, a thick black mist poured off his body and wrapped him up. A rasping voice came from inside the fog: “Well? Can you tell it’s me?”

Wang Lin swept it with his divine sense and found it as impenetrable as silted mire. Relieved, he smiled. “Remarkable pill.” He swallowed his own. The same black fog billowed out and cloaked him.

Two shadowy figures slipped deeper into the mountains. After a few turns, the trail opened onto a clearing.

It was broad, and several dozen silhouettes just like theirs stood scattered across it, each one silent.

Wang Lin and Wang Hao took an empty spot and stood still.

Before long, when it seemed no one else was coming, one figure stepped forward, cleared his throat, and rasped, “Time’s up. Same rules as always. I’ll start.” He produced a small silver flying sword. “Not from the sect’s Sword-Spirit Pavilion—found it by chance. Decent power. I’ll take talismans only—five hundred slips.”

Pairs of attendees murmured to each other. After a short wait, one person came up and, without fuss, counted out five hundred talisman slips. The trade was done.

Another voice followed: “I’ve got a lower-grade jade talisman—three charges of a ground-fissure–type spell. I’ll trade only for ten Spirit-Gathering Pills.”

He flashed a clear, translucent jade piece in front of him, then put it away.

“I’ll trade with you,” someone near Wang Lin said, stepping forward—only for another voice to cut in fast: “I’ll offer twelve Spirit-Gathering Pills for that talisman!”

The first bidder hesitated, shot the interloper a venomous glare, and backed down—ten pills had seemed his limit.

One after another, people came up with their wares. The scene grew lively; sometimes multiple bidders vied for the same item, and in the end the highest offer won.

“I’ve got a technique here,” someone said. “As long as you’ve reached the second layer of Qi Condensation, you can practice it. It hides your cultivation for a short time—unless someone’s at Foundation Establishment, they won’t notice you. I know, I know, it’s a bit of a chicken rib, not much use. I’ll take just ten… five Spirit-Gathering Pills.”

Snickers rippled around the clearing. In the inner sect, status lived and died by cultivation. The higher your realm, the better your perks—who would bother to hide their level? And this technique worked only briefly, yet the seller wanted five pills?

Seeing no takers, the man sighed and started to put it away—when Wang Lin stepped out and said, low and firm, “Five Spirit-Gathering Pills. I’ll take it.”

The man froze, then brightened and hurried over to trade.

The “manual” was a jade slip. Wang Lin blinked—he’d never used one before. He touched it with his divine sense, and the formula for the technique streamed straight into his mind.

Useless to most, but very useful to him—even if the concealment was short-lived, it was better than nothing.

Then a new figure came forward, tone hoarse but posture lofty. “One Fortune-Creation Pill. Make your offers.”

Wang Hao grew excited at once. “Twenty Spirit-Gathering Pills!”

“A thousand talisman slips—plus one flying sword!”

“Two thousand talisman slips!”

“Thirty Spirit-Gathering Pills and five hundred talisman slips!”

“One lower-grade jade talisman, one flying sword, ten Spirit-Gathering Pills, and five hundred talisman slips!”

Bids rang out from all sides. Clearly, the Fortune-Creation Pill was coveted. From Wang Hao, Wang Lin had learned what it was: an exceptionally rare medicine whose effects lingered in the body for two full months, during which a cultivator’s rate of absorbing spiritual energy multiplied severalfold. For many inner-sect disciples, it was the first choice for breaking into the next layer of Qi Condensation.

Even within the sect it was precious. Under normal circumstances, a disciple had only two chances in a lifetime to receive one—one pill upon promotion to black robes, and two more upon reaching purple.