Old Thief Gongsun, Where Do You Think You're Escaping To?

No one knew how many years ago it was that every major sect in the Cultivation World, as if by prior agreement, issued an open-ended mission: they would purchase without limit the Purple Qi Ganoderma unique to Heaven Pillar Mountain, regardless of quantity or age, and had set up lavish rewards for it.

The rewards included gold, silver, and treasures; magical artifacts and spirit talismans; as well as all manner of pills, including Foundation Establishment Pills.

A five-hundred-year Scarlet Fire Ganoderma could be exchanged for one Foundation Establishment Pill, or for a Mountain Gate Token. Anyone holding such a token, even one with Five Spiritual Roots, could unconditionally enter a cultivation sect.

But if one was fortunate enough to gather a thousand-year Purple Qi Ganoderma... an ordinary person was absolutely doomed. Without cultivation at Foundation Establishment or above, there was simply no way to keep such a priceless treasure.

One had to know that this was a third-tier precious herb that even Golden Core True Persons would fight over.

This unlimited mission reward had stirred the dreams of countless people to grow rich and cultivate immortality.

Over the millennia, countless Jianghu heroes, Qi Refining Rogue Cultivators, Foundation Establishment cultivators, and even Golden Core True Persons had swarmed to the outskirts of Heaven Pillar Mountain. Regardless of its towering heights, they climbed up and down its sheer cliffs, gambling their lives for the treasures they desired.

Just as Zhao Sheng was letting his thoughts wander, an explosive shout suddenly came from above his head. "Shameless old thief, I finally found you! Let's see where you can run today!"

Zhao Sheng looked up and saw a burly man of around forty, with tangled whiskers and brown hair, suddenly enter his sight.

The burly man's face was filled with fury. Standing atop a massive sword as wide as a door plank, he dove swiftly toward the cliff.

When Zhao Sheng saw who it was, he could not help smiling faintly, then took another step toward the edge of the cliff.

Facing the wild wind rushing into his face, he narrowed his eyes and suddenly leaped down.

His body fell freely through the void, accelerating faster and faster. In the blink of an eye, he plunged into the clouds and mist, where jutting branches and strange rocks loomed dimly along the mountain wall.

Zhao Sheng's body was as nimble as a hawk, effortlessly dodging the protruding branches, dirt, and rocks.

After falling roughly ten thousand meters, Zhao Sheng suddenly spread both arms wide. Two sheets of canvas abruptly unfurled from his hands and waist like a pair of wings. The cloth bellied high under the force of the wind.

The next instant, Zhao Sheng's descent slowed sharply. At last, spotting a rocky ledge protruding from the cliff face, he drifted lightly onto it.

With no intention of lingering there, Zhao Sheng did not hesitate. His feet tapped repeatedly against the rock, and his body shot into the clouds to the side like an arrow.

Without needing to borrow force from the cliff face, he crossed the air as though walking upon it, sweeping across several hundred zhang in an instant.

After finding a crevice large enough to hide in, Zhao Sheng immediately stopped, pressed himself against the rock wall, and slipped easily inside. Then he circulated the Turtle Breathing Technique and entered a state of feigned death.

At the same time, fierce winds began howling through the area, their powerful force making the surrounding clouds and mist flow rapidly.

The next moment, a thunderous roar rode the wind into his ears. "Cloud Dragon Gongsun Sheng, I'll remember you! Sooner or later, I'll catch you, you shameless old thief!"

When traveling the Jianghu, caution came first!

Therefore, Zhao Sheng never used his real name. Whenever he met anyone, he called himself Gongsun Sheng, with the nickname Cloud Dragon.

Hearing that voice, Zhao Sheng sighed inwardly. Sigh, I only used Cloud Dragon Nine Transformations to "trade" you for one three-hundred-year Azure Ganoderma. Did you really have to chase me so relentlessly? Han Xuanwu, Han Xuanwu, you're far too stubborn!

Afraid that someone might wait for a hare by the tree stump, Zhao Sheng hid in the crack in the rock for an entire day.

Only after the mountain wind changed direction and night fell did he furtively stick out his head and look around in every direction, like a timid marmot.

Do not think him cowardly. As the saying went, a cautious sailor could sail a ship for ten thousand years! He had survived more than twenty years of blood and storms. Ambushes and murders, waiting for prey, encircling enemies to kill them and seize their treasures—he had seen far too many such scenes.

Herb Gatherers would draw weapons against one another over a single spirit herb and fight to the death. The brutality and savagery of it were impossible to imagine without experiencing them firsthand. Put plainly: man died for wealth, birds died for food. That was exactly how it was.

If Zhao Sheng had not been exceptionally cautious, he would have died in some nameless corner twenty years ago.

He poked out his head, wrinkled his nose, and sniffed the mountain wind. Only when he sensed no "human scent" in the air did he relax. Then he stepped into the void, his body shooting out like an arrow as he sped rapidly in a certain direction.

His hiding places changed constantly. The place he had arranged beforehand yesterday was dozens of li away, and simply traveling back and forth would take nearly half a shichen.

Two quarters of an hour later, Zhao Sheng suddenly stopped. The vegetation on the sheer cliff beneath his feet had grown sparse, replaced by jagged mountain rocks, dark, gaunt, and hard, looking especially desolate in the night.

It was precisely because of this that the enormous spherical flame floating outside the mountain wall nearly a thousand zhang away stood out so conspicuously.

"Ha ha, a Flame Light Talisman from the Purple Sun Sect? What a coincidence."

Zhao Sheng grinned. He had not expected to run into a trading fair on his way "back to the nest."

His luck was not bad.

Because Heaven Pillar Mountain's terrain was so unusual, it was exceedingly inconvenient for Herb Gatherers to climb up and down. Thus, many great sects of the Cultivation World often dispatched large numbers of disciples to Heaven Pillar Mountain to hold temporary trading fairs, allowing Herb Gatherers to exchange supplies and cultivation resources in time.

It was somewhat like the relationship between gold prospectors and the merchants who sold prospecting tools. The "gold" that prospectors risked their lives to obtain was all ultimately earned away by the "merchants" selling tools.

Countless prospectors died or were injured, and very few made fortunes. Instead, it was the "merchants" who made a fortune beyond measure.

Once he came within one li of the trading spot, the people there also noticed Zhao Sheng.

Was one li even a distance? Even at night, Qi Refining cultivators could see very clearly.

Seven or eight breaths later, Zhao Sheng stepped onto the stone platform jutting out from the mountain wall. Piles of bonfires had already been set up there.

Around the bonfires sat a group of Herb Gatherers with varied expressions, their faces weathered by wind and frost.

The two sides came face-to-face.

At the sight of Zhao Sheng's arrival, the group was initially stunned. But very quickly, someone over there sprang to his feet.

"Ha ha, Old Thief Gongsun, you actually dare show yourself!"

Looking at Han Xuanwu's savage expression, Zhao Sheng silently cursed his bad luck. He must not have checked the almanac before leaving today—he had run into this fool again.

Han Xuanwu had originally been a Jianghu hero. Later, he encountered an expert and only then learned that he possessed spiritual roots. After passing him a Qi Refining cultivation method, the expert drifted away.

Han Xuanwu's cultivation talent was extremely high. Feeling his way through cultivation alone, he had actually reached Qi Refining Level Six in a mere twenty years.

Though he had become a cultivator, Han Xuanwu, who was obsessed with martial arts, had always regarded himself as a martial artist. In his daily life, he loved collecting all kinds of supreme martial arts manuals.

Three months ago, at a trading fair, Zhao Sheng had used his unique art, Cloud Dragon Nine Transformations, to "trade" Han Xuanwu for a three-hundred-year Azure Ganoderma.

Later, this fool realized he had been duped and had relentlessly pursued Zhao Sheng for a full three months, right up until tonight.

"Han Martial Madman, take a look at where we are. Try making a move!"

Zhao Sheng did not fear him in the slightest. He strode over to the bonfire and stood face-to-face with Han Xuanwu.