I returned to my room and went straight to sleep, letting my body rest and my mind recover from the immense mental fatigue brought on by body cultivation.
When I woke the next morning, the house was already stirring.
The children were up.
Grandfather too.
We exchanged simple greetings before I headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Outside, Mo Fan was helping Grandfather with some woodworking, carefully handing him tools as he worked. Mo Ling, meanwhile, followed closely behind me, her steps light with anticipation.
I went to the stove.
She went to fetch her little stool—dragging it over as if she were entering a theatre, ready to watch a performance.
Before I could even begin cooking, she tugged at my sleeve.
"Big brother… what are you making today?"
She hesitated, then, when I insisted she say what she wanted, her eyes lit up.
"Can you make the flying chicken noodle soup? The one from last time."
She was already drooling by the end of the sentence.
I chuckled. "First, wipe your mouth."
She laughed sheepishly and did as told, then climbed onto her stool and watched me wash the ingredients with rapt attention.
After a moment, she spoke again.
"Brother, today we're having the special rice soup, right?"
I paused and looked at her.
She was right.
Today was vermilion rice soup day.
Since the harvest, I had been making it once every three days, using a small portion of the grains to strengthen their bodies and improve their health. The children had grown noticeably sturdier because of it.
"I have work in the fields today," I said. "Tomorrow, I'll make that rice soup."
She said immediately. "Then I'll help you!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Do you think I really need help?"
She instantly remembered harvest day how easily I had worked and lowered her head in embarrassment.
I smiled faintly. "Don't worry. Help Grandfather in the garden, alright?"
Only then did she brighten again, nodding eagerly.
I finished preparing the food and carried everything to the table. Mo Fan and Grandfather soon joined us, and we ate quietly together.
After breakfast, I told the children to go to the backyard and check on the plants.
Mo Fan glanced at me, understanding immediately. He took his sister with him without a word.
Once they were gone, I turned to Grandfather, my expression serious.
"I'm going to the market today. If anyone asks, say I went to the fields or fishing."
He studied me silently for a long moment.
"…Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Have you prepared properly?"
"I have."
He sighed softly, then nodded. "Alright. Be careful. Be back before sunset."
"I've already prepared lunch," I added. "Eat it if you get hungry."
He waved me off, watching quietly as I left the house.
I didn't draw attention to myself.
Near a cluster of trees, I activated the robe's cloaking function and slipped away from the village unnoticed.
As I travelled, I couldn't help but marvel at the system rewards.
Both the robe and the sickle were growth-type items. As my cultivation increased, they would level up alongside me. Currently, they were top-grade Tier-1 in durability, though their power output was only high-grade, matching my cultivation.
Activating the robe's abilities required a continuous supply of spiritual energy. For an ordinary cultivator, doing so would drain them dry in minutes turning them into a withered corpse.
But my abnormal dantian could sustain it.
I kept the cloak active until I reached the outskirts of the city.
There, in a deserted grove, I deactivated the effect and altered my appearance. With the robe's help, my cultivation aura shifted to that of a late Qi Refining cultivator. My clothing turned black and blue, and a mask covered the lower half of my face. I pulled a bamboo hat from my spirit bag and settled it low.
Only my eyes were visible.
At the city entrance, the guards sensed my aura and quickly greeted me. I nodded once, tossed them a spirit stone, and walked past.
Behind me, I heard their hushed whispers as they tried and failed to guess my identity.
I didn't bother with them.
In a secluded alley, I changed my appearance again before entering the bustling market district where spirit rice was sold.
I first went to Senior Wu's shop, but a young man stood behind the counter instead.
----
"Do you buy jade spirit rice?" I asked.
The young man behind the counter glanced up, his eyes briefly assessing me before he nodded. "All of it"
I reached into my spirit bag and released the contents. Sack after sack landed neatly beside the counter until five hundred pounds of jade spirit rice were stacked before him. I left only a little over two hundred and fifty pounds behind—for our own consumption.
He crouched down and inspected each sack carefully, opening them one by one. His fingers sifted through the grains, his eyes sharp and practiced. After checking the last bag, he straightened and nodded in approval.
"Four pounds per spirit stone," he said.
I frowned slightly. "Didn't it used to be five?"
He sighed. "Prices went up because of the yao beast war. Supply routes were disrupted. Transportation losses. Increased the demand."
I nodded, having already expected as much.
After a brief calculation, he said, "That comes to one hundred and twenty-five spirit stones."
I accepted the figure, then asked, "Do you have jade spirit rice seeds?"
"Yes." He paused, then added, "Previously it was three spirit stones per pound. Now it's five."
"How many pounds do you need?"
"Ten."
He raised a brow but said nothing, clearly accustomed to bulk buyers.
After a short pause, I asked casually, "Do you sell the jade spirit rice seed condensation method?"
His hands froze for a fraction of a second. His expression changed instantly.
Then he shook his head firmly.. ""No. That's strictly prohibited. City Lord's order."
"Why?" I pressed.
He hesitated, then let out a helpless sigh. "If someone sold low-quality seeds along with the method, imagine the losses. Entire harvests would fail. Farmers would be ruined."
I nodded, outwardly accepting the explanation.
But I know the real reason.
The harvested seeds were infertile intentionally so.
A method monopolized by those in power.
Farmers were forced to depend on them for seeds. For protection. For survival. Grain taxes collected in the name of order, then bandits sweeping through to claim the rest.
An endless cycle.
Even in the cultivation world, social and political oppression thrived just as ruthlessly as in my previous life.
Only talent or recognition by a powerful force offered any chance of escape.
The shop assistant entered the shop and returned shortly with a pouch and several sacks. "Here. Ten pounds of seeds cost fifty spirit stones. These seventy-five are your change."
If Senior Wu trusted him enough to leave the shop in his care, that was enough for me.
"Where's Senior Wu?" I asked.
He blinked in surprise. "You know Shopkeeper Wu?"
"We've had some dealings," I replied calmly.
He nodded. "He's at the city center. People from the head office arrived today. He went to receive them."
"I see."
I cupped my fist in farewell and left the shop.
Blending back into the crowd, I quietly altered my appearance once more and made my way toward the city center.
After asking for directions, I soon arrived before a tall, ornate building. Its façade was decorated with carved patterns and glowing inscriptions whose presence alone radiated authority.
Jin Shang Hall.
This was the place for skill techniques and legacy purchases.
Four guards stood at the entrance on each side unmoving and vigilant. Mid and late Qi Refining stage cultivators.
I nodded slightly and stepped inside.
The interior was spacious and elegant.
Glass counters lined the hall, while shelves displayed various items etched with intricate formations, each radiating faint spiritual light.
At one counter, a female attendant greeted me with a professional smile.
"What can I help you with, sir?"
"I'm looking for the jade spirit rice seed condensation technique."
She nodded without surprise. "Three hundred spirit stones. You will need to swear an oath not to spread or sell the information. Commercial use requires testing and a license issued by either the City Hall or Jin Shang Hall."
I nodded in understanding.
Then I asked, "Do you sell any legacies?"
The female attendant tilted her head slightly. "Do you have any specific ones in mind?"
"Alchemy and talisman legacies."
She nodded, fingers moving lightly across the counter as if checking an invisible register. "We do. Tier-1 alchemy legacies and Tier-1 talisman legacies—five hundred spirit stones each."
I fell silent.
After the physique transformation, cultivation expenses, array plate usage, and daily consumption, I had barely more than five hundred spirit stones left from the system's initial newcomer investment.
One purchase would leave me completely dry.
And that wasn't acceptable, not yet.
"I'm short on money," I said at last. "I'll return later."
The attendant didn't seem offended. She smiled politely and inclined her head. "No problem, sir. Jin Shang Hall will be here whenever you decide.
I nodded once and turned away from the counter, already calculating my next move.
-----
Leaving Jin Shang Hall, I walked slowly through the streets, my thoughts churning., I pondered how to earn the money.
Then I thought of the bandits.
While wandering through the outer market and I started gathering information about them discreetly, I finally spotted one of them.
A familiar scar ran from his eye down to his cheek.
He had wrapped his head with cloth to hide his identity, but that scar was impossible to miss.
I activated the robe's concealment effect and merged into the bustling crowd, trailing him at a careful distance. He moved cautiously, frequently glancing over his shoulder to check if anyone was following.
When he reached a narrow, deserted alley, his steps slowed.
At the very end of the alley stood an inconspicuous wooden door embedded into the wall, so plain it would be overlooked by anyone not searching for it.
He knocked in a specific rhythm.
"Hail to the Dark Blood."
With a faint creak, the door opened from within, and another man stepped out.
The moment I saw him, my eyes narrowed.
I recognized him immediately.
The bandit leader who had robbed us at the mountain pass.
He swept his gaze over the scarred man and frowned. "Li Gou," he said coldly. "What are you doing here at this hour?"
The scarred man straightened instinctively. "Captain, I heard a merchant group from a nearby city is delivering goods tonight. I wanted to ask if we're planning to make a move."
The leader's expression darkened. "Get inside first, you idiot. Do you want to announce it to the whole street?"
Li Gou scratched his head awkwardly-sorry, Captain. I was just excited. They're rumoured to be carrying some rare items."
The Captain snorted, clearly displeased, but stepped aside to let him in.
So he was only a captain.
That meant there was someone above even him.
While they were distracted by their exchange, I slipped forward silently, passing through the doorway just as it closed my presence completely erased by the robe.
The darkness swallowed me whole.