Chapter Twenty-One: Plundering

Night deepened gradually.

By this hour, even the latest returners had retreated to their own rooms. Silence enveloped the surroundings.

At this moment, Zhou Changwang and Qian Xiaoyue quietly slipped out, turning the corner and walking barely a dozen steps to arrive at the door of the neighboring house.

Though this was merely the outer edge of the market district, inside each room a simple defensive array had been routinely set up. Of course, these so-called defensive arrays served mostly as alarms—any attack of reasonable strength could easily break them.

Once breached, however, the array would immediately emit a blinding flash. The light held no offensive power, but it drew the attention of everyone nearby.

Thus, unless one possessed absolute confidence in their own strength, most rogue cultivators would not dare to forcibly break into another’s room. This was the sole comfort for those living on the market’s fringe, and the reason they willingly paid a monthly rent in spirit stones.

Neither Zhou Changwang nor Qian Xiaoyue dared to force their way in.

Fortunately, after Zhou Changwang had slain Fang Yu and Zhao Xifeng, he also collected all their spoils, including the keys they carried—the core of the defensive array.

Only by using the “key” could the door be opened without triggering the alarm, allowing free entry and exit.

He took out the key and fit it into the lock.

With a click, the door swung open and they entered.

Without lingering in the living room, Qian Xiaoyue led them straight to the two occupants’ bedroom.

Compared to their own modest quarters, Fang Yu and Zhao Xifeng’s room was far more lavishly arranged. Though most items were ordinary, the decor lent an air of distinction.

Ignoring these trappings, Zhou Changwang peered under the bed and found four chests, three large and one small, neatly lined up.

He dragged them out and opened one of the large chests, his pupils contracting in shock.

Gold.

Heaps of gold, stacked neatly within, filling half the chest.

“This must be five thousand taels, at least?”

Zhou Changwang estimated the weight. Even if it was less than five thousand, it was surely three thousand taels.

But for cultivators, gold and silver held little value. At most, they could be used to purchase mundane goods. If exchanged at the Artifact Hall, the gold would be melted down for “gold essence,” yielding perhaps three or five low-grade spirit stones.

The second chest held a trove of silver.

Silver was worth even less; an entire chestful might not fetch a single low-grade spirit stone.

The third chest also contained silver, but only half full. The rest held books—manuals and secret tomes, stacked over twenty volumes.

Zhou Changwang leafed through them.

“Blood Fiend Blade, Flame Sword, Heaven’s Crippled Step, Nine Cycles Profound Scripture, Heaven Blade Nine Styles, True Law of All Phenomena, Innate Skill, Nine Yin and Nine Yang, Seven Steps to the Sky...”

All martial arts manuals.

There were cultivation methods and martial skills alike.

Thanks to his predecessor’s father, Zhou Changwang had some knowledge of martial arts. He knew that these manuals, if found in mortal kingdoms, would spark bloody conflicts; nearly every one was an extraordinary martial art, suitable as the secret treasure of a sect.

Yet in the world of cultivation, regardless of the style—be it the legendary Demonic Disintegration, Nine Yang Divine Art, or the prestigious Eight Pioneer Blades, Ten Thousand Swords Return—all were as worthless as scrap paper.

In the market district of Phoenix Song Manor, numerous former martial experts and demonic masters came seeking immortality, selling the secret skills that had once been their pride for the faint hope of advancement.

For example, his own father, in the beginning, sold his top-tier martial art, Nine Cycles Golden Body, for a single low-grade spirit stone.

Thus, once it was discovered that Zhou Changwang possessed spiritual roots, his father forbade him from practicing martial arts, insisting he focus solely on the path of immortal cultivation.

Finally, Zhou Changwang opened the smallest chest.

“Hah!”

“Spirit stones!”

“And a few talismans, incense sticks, and...what is this? Jade slip pupils—are those really jade slip pupils?”

He hadn’t expected much, but the moment he opened the chest, he exclaimed in surprise.

Those grayish crystals—were they not spirit stones?

Zhou Changwang quickly counted—there were one hundred and seven low-grade spirit stones.

Besides the spirit stones, there were nearly ten assorted spirit talismans, a small bundle of incense, and three jade slip pupils.

These jade slip pupils were special vessels that recorded cultivation methods and spells; three of them meant three techniques or arts, which was highly significant for him.

Meanwhile, Qian Xiaoyue found her own prize.

She lifted the large bed of the two rogue cultivators, rummaged a bit, and retrieved a small bundle from a pillow pocket.

Opening it, she discovered more spirit stones—about thirty in total. Alongside them were several bottles of pills. Though they lacked labels, Qian Xiaoyue, accustomed to working with alchemists, easily identified them by opening the bottles and examining each.

“One bottle of Restoration Pills, one bottle of Vitality Creation Pills—both healing-grade elixirs.

There’s also one bottle of Detoxification Pills, one bottle of Essence Pills, and one bottle of Yellow Spirit Pills.

Among the healing elixirs, Restoration Pills mainly repair internal injuries and replenish vital energy, while Vitality Creation Pills are for external wounds.

As for Detoxification Pills, as the name suggests, they cure all poisons.

Essence Pills and Yellow Spirit Pills are both used to directly boost a cultivator’s cultivation; each little pill is packed with spiritual energy. The Yellow Spirit Pills should be more potent than the Essence Pills.

Unfortunately, there aren’t many left—only three Essence Pills and two Yellow Spirit Pills.”

As she spoke, a hint of regret appeared on Qian Xiaoyue’s face.

“In any case, this is a tremendous haul for us.”

Zhou Changwang couldn’t help but smile, a trace of excitement in his voice.

Just the one hundred forty-odd low-grade spirit stones alone filled him with satisfaction.

His three acres of spiritual farmland yielded scarcely one hundred fifty low-grade spirit stones a year, and after paying rent to the Spirit Herb Hall, he was left with barely fifty or sixty.

A paltry sum.

Yet tonight, he had gained as much as a year’s labor, without toil. Even if half would go to Qian Xiaoyue, he was exhilarated.

They had truly struck it rich.