Luo Yu Lei's visit to provoke him was nothing more than a minor interlude on Chen Heng's path of cultivation, hardly worth mentioning.
After settling the matter quietly, he took his old servant Uncle Fu and left Jade Spring Artifact Pavilion through the back door.
He intended to take advantage of the final stretch of the South Foothill Gathering to properly stroll through the market.
Before leaving the shop, he had deliberately disguised himself, wearing a bamboo hat and carrying a treasured sword, posing as a sword cultivator merely passing through the market.
As for his old servant Uncle Fu, he had naturally made corresponding alterations as well.
Their disguises were not flawless beyond reproach, but without some special means, it would be difficult to see through their true faces.
The reason for making things so mysterious was mainly to guard against the unexpected.
Although fighting was strictly prohibited in the market, and the Chen Family had a Foundation Establishment Ancestor holding the fort, it was still better to proceed cautiously.
Southern Foothills Market stood beside a bend in the Li River. It covered a considerable area and was roughly circular in shape, backed by mountains on three sides and facing the water on the fourth.
The heart of the market consisted of broad streets crisscrossing one another, with several dozen pavilion-like shops and temporary cave residences scattered throughout.
More than half of these shops and temporary cave residences belonged to the three great Foundation Establishment Families—the Chen, Luo, and Wu families—and they also formed the market's central district.
Within several hundred meters around the central district was another ring of temporary stalls.
Most belonged to Rogue Cultivators who could not afford to rent proper shops and thus set up stalls here to sell their goods.
They only needed to pay one spirit stone each day, making it exceedingly cheap.
Further outside lay an area that had already passed beyond the nominal boundaries of Southern Foothills Market, filled with dwellings erected by Rogue Cultivators who could not settle within the market itself.
Because it was adjacent to Southern Foothills Market's second-rank spirit vein, the spiritual energy in this outer area was fairly decent, far superior to those barren wildlands starved of spiritual energy.
A great many Rogue Cultivators lived there, along with their descendants who had been born and raised without spiritual roots.
Following the principle that where there was a market, there would be consumption, the three great families had not driven away these cultivators and mortals. Of course, neither would they offer them protection.
Thus, the outskirts of Southern Foothills Market were exceedingly chaotic.
The place Chen Heng wished to visit was precisely those temporary stalls where Rogue Cultivators sold their wares, to see whether he could pick up a few overlooked treasures.
Before long.
Master and servant made their way from the market's central district to its outer area.
This place was even livelier than the streets and shops at the market's center, with Rogue Cultivators setting up ground stalls everywhere.
The goods they sold came in every variety imaginable, while hawkers' cries rang out without end.
It reminded Chen Heng of the country markets from his previous life before online shopping had taken off. The bustle before him was not much different.
Unfortunately, after online shopping had risen to prominence, he had rarely visited such markets again.
Chen Heng moved through the stalls with great interest, while his old servant Uncle Fu followed unhurriedly behind him, like a shadow that never left his side.
He stopped and started along the way, wandering about without any particular destination.
He did discover quite a few spiritual items worth far more than their price.
If something was useful to him at present, he bought it outright. For instance, there was an inconspicuous black ore on an old cultivator's stall.
Though it showed no spiritual radiance, Chen Heng recognized at a glance that it was a Crimson Flame Profound Crystal—a piece that had fallen to the ground after an eruption of earthfire, cooled and solidified, then become coated in a layer of volcanic ash.
It was an excellent fire-aspect material, of first-rank high-grade quality, yet it was priced at only two spirit stones.
Chen Heng naturally took it into his possession with ease.
Whether he used it in his own artifact refinement or sold it later, he would make a killing either way.
Other items had no use for the time being, so he did not force himself to buy them.
For example, there was an ordinary-looking Talisman Brush on the stall of a female cultivator with a magnificent bosom.
Given Chen Heng's current attainments in artifact refinement, it was quite extraordinary. For talisman masters below the second rank, purchasing it would definitely not be a loss.
But for him, there was no need.
After all, the bulk of the spirit stones Chen Heng currently possessed came from Luo Yu Lei's gift—three hundred spirit stones.
Although the first-rank mid-grade treasured fan he had refined himself was certainly worth every bit of its price.
Still, spending spirit stones sent by an enemy to hunt for overlooked treasures at Rogue Cultivator stalls—despite having lived two lives, Chen Heng found it difficult to suppress the joy in his heart.
Before long.
Chen Heng arrived before a simple stall, where all manner of items had been laid out.
Most were ordinary spirit herbs and ores, demon beast materials, along with some damaged artifacts, low-rank talismans, medicinal pills...
At first glance, he felt there was nothing particularly eye-catching or valuable.
Just as he was about to move on to the next stall, his gaze was suddenly drawn to an inconspicuous little object amid a pile of miscellaneous junk in the corner.
It was a fragment of jade, seemingly part of an artifact, yet it appeared to conceal another mystery.
Looking at the stall owner, he saw a thin young man of around twenty, only at the second layer of Qi Refinement. His features were ordinary, and his clothes were plain.
Chen Heng stepped forward without changing expression and casually asked, "How much for these pieces of ore?"
The thin young man looked up at him and said calmly, "Everything on the stall is one spirit stone each. No bargaining."
Chen Heng raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
He casually picked out five pieces of ore, including the fragment of jade among them, tossed down five spirit stones, then got up and left.
The thin young man said nothing either. He put away the spirit stones and continued his business.
To him, everything on the stall had already been examined countless times. If some spiritual treasure had concealed its brilliance, then that was simply his fate.
This made Chen Heng, who glanced back at him, regard him somewhat more highly.
If I gain it, it is my fortune; if I lose it, it is my fate. That was the attitude a cultivator ought to possess.
After all, if it was a treasure one could not hold onto from the beginning, it meant there had never been any affinity with it. Why force the matter?
Chen Heng did not let his thoughts wander any further. He put away the five ores, including the fragment of jade, and continued wandering through the area.
Afterward, he spent ten spirit stones at another stall to purchase a shield with damaged artifact patterns.
He also acquired a piece of gray stone that could not be probed with spiritual power for five spirit stones.
Before long, he reached the end and returned to the stall where he had begun.
When Chen Heng looked up, he saw Luo Yu Lei leading a group of Luo Family disciples around the market just like him, clearly harboring the same intention of seeking out overlooked treasures.
Feeling somewhat unlucky, he lost interest in continuing his stroll and promptly returned to Jade Spring Artifact Pavilion through the back door with his old servant Uncle Fu.
That night.
The moon hung high in the sky.
The lamp flame was as small as a bean. The eastern side room was tranquil, cut off from the market's final clamor.
Chen Heng sat by the window. The items he had acquired in the market that day were arranged in a row across the table:
The black outer shell of the Crimson Flame Profound Crystal reflected a faint, muted gleam beneath the lamplight; the artifact patterns on the damaged shield were dim, its cracks savage; the gray stone was deathly still, no different in appearance from an ordinary rock.
Last was the fragment of jade he had bought together with the pile of ores.
Chen Heng's gaze finally settled on that fragment of jade.
The jade was only palm-sized, its edges jaggedly broken. Its entire surface was a murky blue-gray, like a poor-quality scrap tossed carelessly into the corner of the stall, utterly unremarkable.
Even now that it had been deliberately taken out, not the slightest fluctuation of spiritual energy could be sensed from it.
Yet when he had first caught sight of it in the market, the [Water-Fire Harmony] talisman seal within his sea of consciousness had produced an exceedingly faint, fleeting abnormal stir.
The sensation had been so subtle that it was almost an illusion, yet it had been enough for him to pinpoint it amid a heap of ordinary clutter.
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