Chapter Seventy-Five: It Might Be a Fish

As soon as a spell was cultivated to perfection and transformed into a spell seed, Zhou Changwang was elated. For several days, he couldn’t help but let a smile tug at the corners of his mouth; once, unable to restrain himself, he even cast a Geng Metal Finger in the backyard.

He then watched in dismay as a basin-sized pit exploded into the previously pristine spiritual field. For days afterwards, the spiritual energy in that area was in utter chaos; a few Essence-Gathering Grasses growing nearby withered under its influence.

When he returned the next day and saw the devastation, it was already too late—even his Withered Wood Returning Spring technique couldn’t save them.

He hurriedly transplanted the remaining affected Essence-Gathering Grasses into other corners and no longer dared to experiment with spells at will.

One reckless trial had cost him three or four pieces of lower-grade spirit stones. Such extravagance, he decided, was best avoided.

After that, he didn’t attempt to condense spell seeds again—it was far too time-consuming, and each day felt busier than the last.

By day, he tended the spiritual fields, looking after the Essence-Gathering Grass and Thunder Spirit Rice trees. At night, he spent at least an hour drawing spirit talismans, then cultivated the Thousand Thunder Flash spell, and finally retreated into the cultivation chamber for focused training...

Though he had mastered many spells, he was still far from perfecting them. It was better, he thought, to let things proceed naturally.

For now, condensing a single spell seed was more than enough.

After all, for a cultivator of immortal arts, cultivation was the foundation.

He had no need to compete with others.

“After seven days, I’m finally about to enter the basics of Thousand Thunder Flash,” Zhou Changwang smiled after yet another failed casting.

Seven days of diligent practice had made him thoroughly familiar with the spell’s rune structure; he could now condense all the runes smoothly. The only reason for failure this time was some deficiency in the linkage between rune structures.

After all, out of the twenty-five rune structures, five were ones he was already familiar with and had simplified; connecting the old with the new was bound to leave flaws.

This required constant adjustment and experimentation.

For him, it wasn’t a significant problem—just a matter of persistence.

Buzz, buzz, buzz—

Just then, the warning of the formation sounded.

It was the array at the front gate, which only activated its alarm if someone entered the alert range or knocked directly on the door.

“Who could it be?” Zhou Changwang wondered.

He had lived here nearly two months, barely stepping outside, and had never greeted any neighbors. Who would come knocking?

Rent? He’d paid for a whole year—it was nowhere near due.

A friend, perhaps?

After a moment’s thought, Zhou Changwang went to the front courtyard and called out, “Who’s there?”

“We’re from the Rakshasa Gang,” came a rough voice from outside.

“Rakshasa Gang?” Zhou Changwang was taken aback, remembering the talisman master Lu whom he’d met at the rogue cultivator market.

Had they already investigated him and come knocking so soon?

“Yes, we’re from the Rakshasa Gang. We’re here to let you know that this area is now under our management. If you encounter any trouble, just notify us at our branch, and we’ll handle it for you,” the voice continued, speaking with surprising calm.

“Handle it for us?” Zhou Changwang was stunned, then immediately understood.

So-called “handling things” was just a euphemism for collecting protection fees.

But since it wasn’t that talisman master Lu at his door, he relaxed a little and opened the gate.

Before him stood a tall, powerfully built middle-aged cultivator whose robust aura revealed him as a physical cultivator, at least at the fourth or even fifth layer of Qi Refinement.

Behind him stood two young cultivators: one, in his twenties and rather thin, seemed to be at the second layer of Qi Refinement; the other, younger and tender-faced, appeared to be at the first layer. For some reason, Zhou Changwang found the latter familiar, though he couldn’t immediately recall where he’d met him.

“That’s right. If you have any trouble, just let us know—we’ll take care of it,” the middle-aged cultivator said with a smile.

The younger cultivator behind him quickly added, “However, in order to maintain order here, our Rakshasa Gang needs to send people to patrol from time to time. So, we ask tenants like you to be generous and give a little support.”

“Isn’t patrolling the job of the market guards?” Zhou Changwang asked calmly. “Since when does it need your gang’s involvement?”

“You probably haven’t heard—thirty li from the market, a new Fire Crystal Geng Iron vein was discovered. Most of the market guards have been dispatched there to clear and secure the mine, so they can’t manage disorder within the market. But the market is a huge enterprise and can’t be left unchecked. That’s why we’ve been officially assigned to maintain order inside the market,” the young cultivator said with pride.

“Is that so? And how much do you require?” Zhou Changwang frowned, sensing something amiss.

Even if the market guards were dispatched elsewhere, would the administrators really allow a gang to take over internal affairs? These men might look upright, as if they’d suddenly become market enforcers, but a gang was a gang—no matter how they tried to clean up their image, their nature remained unchanged. Letting them manage things would only spell trouble.

He doubted the market administrators were blind to that.

As for Fire Crystal Geng Iron, he knew it was a vital material for crafting magical artifacts—very precious indeed. Rumor had it a single pound was worth dozens of lower-grade spirit stones. A single vein could produce thousands of pounds, worth hundreds of thousands of spirit stones, so it was no wonder the market authorities would mobilize so many people.

“Five pieces of lower-grade spirit stone per month,” the young cultivator replied quickly.

The middle-aged cultivator smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, our Rakshasa Gang is fair. If we take your spirit stones, we’ll ensure your safety.”

“I hope so,” Zhou Changwang said, handing over the five spirit stones.

He wasn’t afraid, but with the current situation unclear, it was best not to provoke conflict.

...

Losing five spirit stones for no good reason put Zhou Changwang in a foul mood. He lost interest in further spell cultivation, so he performed two cycles of the Heavenly Origin Eight Forms in the courtyard, working up a sweat before his mood eased.

Then he went to the kitchen, took a small pouch from his storage bag, and poured out its contents—Thunder Spirit Rice.

Now that his five hundred or so Thunder Spirit Rice trees were growing well, he was confident there’d be no issue with future harvests, so he finally decided to eat this batch.

He washed it carefully, not letting a single grain go to waste, then placed it in the steamer.

Soon, a rich, fragrant aroma filled the air, lifting Zhou Changwang’s spirits.

“This Thunder Spirit Rice is truly worthy of being called a rare spiritual grain. The aroma alone far surpasses ordinary spiritual rice,” he marveled, planning to stir-fry a couple of hearty dishes to go along with it.

...

“Wei, I know the man from earlier,” the youngest of the Rakshasa Gang’s party said hesitantly after collecting spirit stones from the second household.

“Who? This house? Didn’t expect you to know someone here, Xiao Xu,” the young cultivator scoffed. “Actually, I know this guy too—he’s the nephew of Manager Bai from the Miscellaneous Affairs Hall at Listening Rain Pavilion. His son is a squad leader among the market guards. I was surprised he handed over the spirit stones—someone with his connections, even if he refused, we couldn’t do anything to him.”

“He just doesn’t want any trouble.”

“People like him are smooth and careful, never wasting favors on the likes of us. Five pieces of spirit stone mean nothing to him. After all, everyone who lives around here is either powerful or well-connected—their backgrounds are intricate... So all of you, restrain yourselves. If you carelessly offend the wrong person, the gang won’t back you up. If they’re willing to pay, take it. If not, don’t show any attitude—don’t treat them like the scattered cultivators outside.”

The middle-aged cultivator shot a stern warning glance at the heavy gate.

He knew well that collecting spirit stones in South Street was a thankless task, but what choice did he have after offending someone above? The higher-ups had assigned him this job—he had no option but to obey.

“It’s not this house, it’s the first one we visited. I know that man. Just a few months ago, he was planting spiritual fields at the foot of Long Ridge Mountain with my grandfather. In other words, he’s just a spiritual farmer,” Xiao Xu said.

He’d studied the man carefully several times before confirming.

“A spiritual farmer?” The young cultivator was stunned; Wei, too, was taken aback.

A spiritual farmer living in this wealthy district? If he remembered correctly, the rent here was paid yearly, at a minimum of three or four hundred lower-grade spirit stones per year. For a mere spiritual farmer, whose aura was only at the third layer of Qi Refinement, to afford living here—how had he amassed so many spirit stones? How did he dare rent in a place like this?

“Are you sure? Does he have any background, or did he join any faction?” Wei asked with interest.

“I’m sure. During the Night of Chaos, I saw him with a female cultivator hiding at the spiritual fields at Long Ridge Mountain. As for his background, there isn’t much—his father is just a mortal martial artist. My grandfather once mentioned wanting his father to teach my younger brother martial arts, but that never went anywhere. Oh, and he’s on good terms with the Zhao brothers at the foot of the mountain; when we left, the Zhao brothers kept him behind. The female cultivator with him is said to be an alchemy apprentice from Six Directions Pavilion—she has some background,” Xiao Xu replied, recalling the details.

“Check with your grandfather again—discreetly. We’ll also do some digging,” Wei said after a moment’s thought.

“No problem,” Xiao Xu nodded quickly.

“Wei, this man...” the young cultivator began, finally catching on.

“He could be a big fish,” Wei replied with a smile.

Why join a gang? For safety? To avoid being bullied? For power? For the awe of others?

Ultimately, it was all for cultivation resources—for spirit stones.

Protection fees were never the main income for people like them in the gang. Besides, security in the market—at least South Street—was under their control.

At first, Wei had thought this assignment was a punishment from above, deliberately handing him an unprofitable job.

But now, it seemed this might just be his opportunity.

(End of chapter)