Chapter Forty-Four: An Aunt’s Smile

“I didn’t say anything.”

Chen Qingfeng waved his hand, then added, “Here are your forty-seven low-grade spirit stones, keep them safe.”

With a twist of his wrist, a pile of spirit stones appeared in his palm.

“Thank you, Manager Chen.” Zhou Changwang quickly cupped his hands and expressed his gratitude, then carefully received the spirit stones and tucked them into a small cloth pouch.

He dared not use a storage pouch in front of others—such things only invited unwanted attention.

“Changwang, you’ve truly grown up,” Zhou Qiankun couldn’t help but say as he watched Chen Qingfeng depart.

He had listened to the entire exchange between his son and the steward, witnessed how skillfully his son handed over the spirit stones, and couldn’t help but feel that his boy had matured and no longer needed his constant oversight.

“Yes, I suppose it was high time I did.” Zhou Changwang echoed the sentiment with a sigh.

Isn’t growing up for a young man precisely that moment when he first learns to navigate the world with tact?

He, having been tempered by the harsh realities of life, was already as smooth as polished jade.

The day’s harvest was finally complete. Though selling everything to the Spirit Plant Hall wasn’t the most profitable choice, sometimes not all decisions could be measured by immediate gain or loss.

Just as earlier—if he hadn’t made a show of goodwill, the steward would never have offered that final piece of advice.

“Has the market’s outskirts been restless lately?” Zhou Changwang frowned.

He spent his days tending his own spirit fields, rarely stepping beyond his front door, and was largely ignorant of recent happenings.

“Indeed, things have been odd around here of late. Many mysterious folk have arrived. Just near our house, two new families have moved in. One took over the old quarters of Fang Yu and his wife. The other household appears to be two brothers, but they look nothing alike. Last time I greeted them, their response was cold and their accent unfamiliar—likely migrants from afar. The other pair seem like husband and wife, but they don’t act like it at all…” Zhou Qiankun’s expression grew grave as he spoke.

Fengming Wu Market had stood for centuries, with newcomers trickling in over the years, gradually forming a community. Sudden influxes like this, especially on the outskirts, were rare.

“In any case, caution does no harm. Best not to go out for a while,” Zhou Changwang advised, then bade farewell to the surrounding spirit farmers and hurried home.

On his way, he made a point of observing his surroundings closely.

Sure enough, there were many unfamiliar faces, some even dressed in styles quite unlike the locals. Yet, with the growing numbers, the outskirts of the market had become more bustling—he even saw some people setting up stalls by the roadside, selling daily wares.

Whether it was courage born of skill or simply sharp business sense, he didn’t care to hazard a guess—he certainly wouldn’t dare do the same.

Upon returning home, he glanced in the direction of Qian Xiaoyue’s dwelling.

Of all the people he knew, she was the most sensitive to changes in the neighborhood’s atmosphere.

Especially since she had mastered the Listening Art, a wondrous spell that allowed her to eavesdrop on the slightest stirrings around her. With two mysterious households moving in nearby, there was no way she wouldn’t take notice.

Unfortunately, her door remained firmly shut—she was clearly not home yet.

“Still, her penchant for listening at the walls is a habit I can’t afford to ignore. Looks like I’ll have to find a chance to learn the Soundproofing Spell. It’s cheap, and nearly every itinerant cultivator in the market knows it,” Zhou Changwang reminded himself.

He had plenty of secrets and certainly didn’t want anyone prying.

…

At noon, after a meal of spirit rice, Zhou Changwang sat to the side, feeling somewhat at a loss.

Normally, he spent all day in the spirit fields, tending the crops and practicing spells. But now, with the fields harvested, he truly didn’t know what to do with himself.

“I need to focus on cultivation. The outskirts are clearly growing dangerous—it would be foolish to sit and wait for trouble. I need to strengthen my means of self-preservation. And I should move—relocate to the inner city. Rent is steep there, even the most basic house costs seven or eight low-grade spirit stones a month, the better ones go for dozens or even hundreds. But safety is priceless.”

A surge of anxiety spurred him onward, and he hurried into his room.

First, he checked on the three spirit seeds. They were growing well, but the crushed spirit stones inside were depleting faster than expected.

By his estimate, in five or six days, the spirit stone powder would be exhausted.

That powder was as good as money.

He quickly cast an Accelerate Growth spell.

The three spirit seeds immediately shot up before his eyes, and continued to grow steadily over time. But the consumption of spirit stone powder also increased dramatically.

What could have lasted five or six days would now be gone in four or five.

“These spirit seeds really need to be transplanted into a proper spirit field. At this rate of consumption, I can’t afford to keep them,” Zhou Changwang muttered, forcing himself to look away.

He began practicing his spells—Metal Finger, Fireball.

When his spiritual power was depleted, he relied on the Five Elements Technique to slowly recover it while he studied the three volumes of basic talisman theory. Occasionally, he’d take out the jade slip containing talisman-making notes and compare it as he reflected.

Once he felt prepared, he took out talisman paper, brush, and spirit blood ink, and began to practice making talismans.

Once, twice, thrice…

He failed repeatedly, but his good temperament let him calmly analyze every error. After each failure, he immediately pondered what had gone wrong.

Comparing his attempts to the notes in the jade slip, his progress accelerated.

Slowly, a talisman began to take shape under his brush.

“Miss Qian is back,” at that moment, Zhou Changwang heard his father’s voice from the courtyard.

His focus slipped, his brush quivered, and his spiritual power scattered.

Fwoosh!

The talisman paper ignited of its own accord, burning to ash.

“Another failure. But it’s still better than yesterday. Yesterday, I couldn’t get past the second rune structure before failing. Today, I managed the fourth, and I even have an idea for the fifth.”

He sighed, but didn’t blame the interruption—he knew well that even without his father’s voice, he wouldn’t have completed the fourth structure.

Talisman crafting was never an easy task.

He put away his tools, then stepped outside.

He planned to seek Qian Xiaoyue for news about the recent influx of unfamiliar cultivators. After their last experience together, their acquaintance had deepened.

He believed that if she knew anything, she wouldn’t keep it from him.

By now, Qian Xiaoyue had evidently returned to her quarters.

He went straight to her door and knocked.

“Daoist Zhou, what brings you here?” When she saw Zhou Changwang, Qian Xiaoyue glanced warily around before speaking.

“Perhaps… we should talk inside?” Zhou Changwang offered an awkward smile, suddenly realizing that coming directly to her door might be a bit much.

Especially when he caught sight, out of the corner of his eye, of his father standing at the door, beaming with an aunt’s knowing smile.