Chapter Sixteen: Marauders on the Prowl
Qingyang Market.
After leaving Gathering Pavilion, Qin Ming strolled leisurely along the main thoroughfare of the market.
The street was bustling with all sorts of cultivators, coming and going in an endless stream. Yet today, it seemed there were more unfamiliar faces than usual.
Qin Ming wandered idly through the crowd.
“Fellow Taoist, care for a little passionate entertainment?”
At the entrance of a nearby brothel, a young woman in a revealing green dress cast him a flirtatious glance.
Qin Ming paused briefly, retracted his gaze with an impassive expression, and quickly walked away.
“Oh? A man of virtue?” the woman muttered in surprise, her confident look vanishing. Rolling her eyes in the direction he had left, she turned to solicit the next passerby.
After Qin Ming left, a burly, bearded man stepped out from the brothel. Squinting, he asked, “No luck?”
“Just a clueless kid—boring,” the green-clad woman replied nonchalantly, rubbing her fingernails.
The man nodded silently and retreated inside.
...
Leaving the market behind, Qin Ming mused with disdain:
‘What a joke, I wouldn’t even take it for free.’
‘Why would I pay for it?’
‘Just cheap powder and rouge—thank goodness my Dao heart is strong...’
...
Evening fell.
Qin Ming returned to the slum district. Dinner was another pot of premium Beast Fang Rice, after which he began cultivating the “Hundred-Treasure Glazed Scripture.”
Over the past half year, the amount of premium Beast Fang Rice he’d consumed was staggering. If not for his luck in continuously drawing the “Accelerate Growth” entry, he would have struggled to keep up with the resource demands of his body-tempering technique.
Fellow Daoist Ruan wasn’t exaggerating when he’d called it a “bottomless pit.” Ordinary cultivators could never afford such consumption of spiritual ingredients.
Qin Ming found that with each subsequent layer of the “Hundred-Treasure Glazed Scripture,” the spiritual materials needed to boost his vitality increased almost geometrically.
Though the price was steep, the technique was extraordinary—the first three layers alone far surpassed ordinary body-tempering effects.
For now, his stock of premium Beast Fang Rice was still sufficient.
Bang bang bang!
Just as Qin Ming finished his cultivation, a rapid knocking suddenly sounded at the door.
He frowned.
‘Who could be in such a hurry?’
Rising to his feet, he put away the rice before going to open the door. He peered cautiously through the crack.
Outside stood Old Cai Ninth, drenched in sweat and visibly flustered.
Qin Ming opened the door and immediately asked, “Old Ninth, what’s happened? Why are you in such a panic?”
“It’s... it’s... something big!” Old Cai stammered, his voice trembling with fear.
“Fellow Daoist Long... is... is dead!”
Old Cai’s face was ashen as he forced out the words.
Qin Ming’s mind went blank for a moment...
This news... truly... was astonishing!
“Are you sure? Could there be a mistake? Fellow Daoist Long was a late-stage Qi Refining expert, with skills far beyond ordinary cultivators—how could he suddenly fall? Did he go to the frontier?”
As he spoke, suspicion stirred in his heart.
Old Cai replied urgently, “At a time like this, how could I be wrong? He didn’t go to the front lines.”
“Fellow Daoist Long was killed by a marauder. His body was found just now in the nearby river—you’ll understand if you come with me.”
The gravity of Old Cai’s news unsettled Qin Ming. Without another word, the two hurried toward the river.
In less than the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, they arrived at the scene.
Qin Ming was shocked to discover that the place where Long’s body had been found was just a few hundred paces from his own home!
When they arrived, a crowd of local cultivators had already gathered by the riverbank, all tense and buzzing with fearful whispers as they pointed toward the corpse.
Qin Ming forced his way through the crowd and looked over.
“It really is Fellow Daoist Long!” he muttered, lost for words.
What met his gaze was Long’s pale, stripped corpse—every possession and storage pouch gone without a trace.
His entire body was riddled with dozens of gaping, bloody wounds; his throat and heart had been pierced clean through by magical weapons.
It seemed he hadn’t even had time to cry for help before he died...
“How tragic. I hear it was Lady Wang and her companions, out at the river to wash clothes, who found the body.”
“Indeed. Judging by the state of the corpse, he must have died some time ago. Most likely, it got stuck under the bridge last night and was just now washed out.”
“Do you think it was the work of marauders? But with Fellow Daoist Long’s strength, what kind of thief could kill him so silently?”
The crowd exchanged uneasy glances, a sense of foreboding settling over them.
The mood grew oppressive.
Before long, the patrol squad from the Spiritfeather Sect arrived in haste.
The captain dispersed the onlookers and, after just one glance at the body, wore a deeply troubled expression.
He knew that even if he encountered the killer himself, he’d have no chance of survival.
“Could it be a Foundation Establishment-stage marauder? But... it doesn’t seem that way,” the captain muttered, stroking his chin, before decisively taking out a transmission talisman to report to the sect. This was well beyond his capacity to handle.
Qin Ming returned home, his soul unsettled.
He hadn’t imagined danger could be so close.
“It seems the slums are no longer safe.”
“Qingyang Market has a second-tier array protecting it—even Foundation Establishment cultivators would struggle to breach it.”
“I need to make plans—moving into the market itself would be far safer.”
His mind churned with anxious thoughts.
“And the spiritual fields too—hopefully the Spiritfeather Sect will increase their patrols.”
“Sigh, even farming will be nerve-wracking from now on. How did things come to this...”
“Let’s just hope, after robbing such a fat sheep at the late stage of Qi Refining, the marauder won’t bother with us poor spirit farmers.”
“Surely... we’re beneath their notice?”
The death of Fellow Daoist Long was a profound shock to Qin Ming.
Even a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator had ended up dead—how could he not feel a sense of crisis?
‘After killing Long, the murderer didn’t even bother to hide the body, brazenly dumping it in the river. Clearly, the culprit has no fear of consequences.’
‘It feels more like a blatant act of provocation.’
For years, the slums had enjoyed the protection of Long, a righteous late-stage Qi Refining cultivator. Local troublemakers hadn’t dared act out.
Now, with Long’s death, the issue of safety had become paramount.
Qin Ming retrieved a mid-grade Thunder Arrow Talisman and tucked it into his sleeve, feeling a bit more secure.
‘After reaching the third layer of the “Hundred-Treasure Glazed Scripture,” the effect of Beast Fang Rice on my vitality has slowed.’
‘I need even better spirit rice to speed up my progress.’
‘What if I could upgrade my Beast Fang Rice to the supreme grade?’
‘But the “Quality Upgrade” entry hasn’t appeared again for half a year, except for the very first time...’
His gaze grew resolute.
He still had enough premium Beast Fang Rice to last a year.
No more hesitation—he’d go all in!
This time, he’d use his final “Accelerate Growth” entry on those three acres of Yin-Gathering Flowers.
He’d bet everything on triggering a “Quality Upgrade” entry!