White Cloud Temple's Invitation!

In the blink of an eye, the White Cloud Minor Gathering had begun.

This was the largest trading venue under White Cloud Temple's jurisdiction, built in a level valley west of White Cloud Mountain. At the White Cloud Minor Gathering, held once every five years, cultivators from all nine counties gathered, and Rogue Cultivators were as numerous as carp crossing a river.

Even cultivators from other commanderies came to take part in the grand occasion!

The eastern district of the market.

The Sun Clan had arrived early and secured three entire temporary storefronts in advance.

Sun Bo'an stood behind a wooden counter, working an abacus with both hands. The beads clattered in a rapid, crisp succession, and he dared not be careless in the slightest.

"Do you have any Pathfinding Rats left? I'll pay sixty Spirit Stones!"

A Rogue Cultivator with a face full of knife scars squeezed into the shop and slapped down a bag of Spirit Stones. Judging by his appearance, he had been waiting in line for a long time.

"No."

Sun Bo'an did not even look up. It was not that he was so arrogant as to be rude; he simply had more work than he could handle. "The ten Spirit-Seeking Pathfinding Rats sold out an hour ago."

"If you fellow Daoists really want one, come collect it at the Hongtian City market in six months. The next batch of Spirit-Seeking Pathfinding Rats won't come out of their cages until then. Those who pay a deposit first get priority."

A chorus of frustrated sighs rose around him.

The Pathfinding Rats sold for thirty Spirit Stones in Hongtian City, but at the White Cloud Minor Gathering, Sun Bo'an had raised the price straight to fifty.

He had expected a lukewarm reception, but the Rogue Cultivators under White Cloud Temple's jurisdiction turned out to be even more generous. When they heard the rats could warn them of danger, they scrambled madly to buy them.

Ten rats had brought in five hundred low-grade Spirit Stones!

On top of that, the hundreds of talismans Sun Wanqing had drawn were low-grade, but their quality was decent and their price was fairly good. They had sold in a rush too.

There were also the improved pills Sun Changping had refined and the assorted spirit materials acquired by the general store.

In just half a day.

The Sun Clan's shops had brought in nearly two thousand low-grade Spirit Stones. In these few days alone, they had made almost as much profit as they usually did in a whole year.

Sun Bo'an tied the last Storage Bag shut and tucked it into his robes. In his forty-eight years of life, his chest had never felt so heavy and reassuringly solid.

The Qi Refining clan patriarchs at the neighboring stalls stared with their eyes wide.

Feng Shoude stood before his own ironware stall, gripping a flying sword he had just repaired, his expression shifting between dark and light. After half a day's work, he had earned less than one or two hundred Spirit Stones.

Sun Bo'an had only had to move his lips, and he had probably earned as much as Feng Shoude would in a lifetime...

"Patriarch, we've struck it rich!"

Sun Xing edged closer and lowered his voice, his tone almost trembling.

"What do you mean, struck it rich?"

Sun Bo'an shot him a sideways glance. "This is all the old ancestor's capital. If the old ancestor hadn't protected our Sun Clan, would you and I even be where we are today?"

"Go buy that First-Tier Superior-Grade formation on East Street. The Lineage's market is just short of a great defensive formation. Buy three fine Pill Furnaces as well, so we can train Alchemists in the clan in the future..."

"Exchange all the remaining Spirit Stones for pills that increase cultivation and first- and second-tier spirit medicine seeds."

Ever since Shi Jian had given Sun Bo'an a stern warning, everything had suddenly become clear to him.

Money left in his hands was a dead thing; only by turning it into a foundation could it become the Sun Clan's future. His vision had grown increasingly far-reaching, and he was looking more and more like a patriarch.

Behind the stalls, a spacious beast-drawn carriage with a blue canopy stood beneath the shade of a tree.

Shi Jian lay in the carriage with his eyes closed, resting. He did not care in the least how much money was being made outside, until a streak of sword light descended from White Cloud Mountain's main peak and came to a hover before the Sun Clan's storefront...

Yunsong put away his flying sword, glanced at Sun Bo'an, and walked straight toward the carriage.

"Fellow Daoist Shi."

Yunsong stood before the carriage and cupped his hands in greeting. "The temple master has come out of seclusion and arranged a private banquet on the main peak. He specifically ordered me to invite you."

The surroundings fell deathly silent in an instant.

Countless gazes converged at once. The master of White Cloud Temple was a Golden Core mighty figure, a person of extraordinary standing in White Cloud Commandery.

The temple master rarely showed his face even at the gathering held once every five years.

Much less hosted a private banquet for that Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Sun Bo'an's palms broke out in sweat at the sight.

The carriage curtain lifted, and Shi Jian stepped out. His black body, a zhang tall, gave off an exceedingly dense Yao Qi beneath the sunlight.

He shook his fur, and his bones cracked. His body rapidly shrank, and in the blink of an eye he was the size of an ordinary black bear...

"Lead the way."

Yunsong nodded and summoned his flying sword to lead the way. Shi Jian pushed off with all four limbs and sprang into the air, following on a clump of pitch-black demonic wind.

The main peak of White Cloud Mountain.

Clouds and mist swirled around it. A great hall stood at the summit, its green bricks and black tiles free of any superfluous decoration, giving it a stern, murderous air.

One look and it was clearly the style of a sword cultivator-those bull-nosed Daoists were all stubborn single-track minds.

"The temple master is waiting inside. Please, fellow Daoist."

After bringing the bear there, Yunsong stopped and stepped aside.

When Shi Jian raised a paw and crossed the extremely high threshold, the hall doors slammed shut behind him, and the light inside abruptly dimmed...

A middle-aged man in a gray cloth Daoist robe sat on a meditation cushion directly ahead.

His face was lean, his eyes half closed. There were no fluctuations of spiritual power, and not even his breathing could be sensed. But the moment Shi Jian entered the hall, the air around him began to congeal!

A terrifying pressure descended out of nowhere and crashed directly onto Shi Jian's back.

This was no Law Technique, but the pure oppressive might of the Golden Core realm. A Golden Core cultivator could live for six hundred years and was a terrestrial immortal in mortal eyes!

Under the lock of a Golden Core cultivator's Divine Sense, fine cracks spread through the green bricks on the floor.

Shi Jian planted all four limbs firmly on the ground, his claws piercing the bricks. The dense Demon Power in his body circulated wildly as he forcibly held out against the pressure.

He did not retreat half a step, nor did his back bend in the slightest. He merely stared coldly at the middle-aged man ahead, looking utterly resolute!

After ten breaths.

The pressure abruptly vanished, and the air flowed once more.

The middle-aged Daoist opened his eyes. His gaze was profound, and he spoke with a hint of approval. "Not bad. Foundation Establishment Middle Stage, and you've tempered your body to be several times sturdier than an ordinary body cultivator's!"

"It seems Lei Lie wasn't exaggerating after all."

Shi Jian straightened up and cupped his forepaws in imitation of a human. "Shi Jian, the guardian spirit beast of the clan in Hongtian City, greets the temple master."

"No need for courtesy. Sit."

Zhao Qing pointed to a jade meditation cushion on the left. Shi Jian did not stand on ceremony; he sat down in a broad, imposing posture, casually grabbed a spirit fruit from the table, and took a bite.

Juice ran everywhere, and Spiritual Qi filled it!

A second-tier middle-grade Thick Milk Spirit Peach, which ripened only once every thirty years. This was good stuff.

"I've heard about what happened in Hongtian City. You fought seven Devil Cultivators alone, protected the people under my jurisdiction, and then slew the fiends. This was a meritorious deed."

"I took someone's money and dealt with their troubles, that's all. I don't deserve such praise from the temple master."

Shi Jian spat out the pit, his face full of humility.

"What can the Sun Clan give you?"

"A declining household without even a single Foundation Establishment cultivator. Staying there is like casting a bright pearl into darkness, wasting all that talent of yours."

Zhao Qing wasted no words and laid out his offer:

"Come to my White Cloud Temple and become our sect's guardian protector. If you like these spirit peaches, you can have them all from now on."

"The first three floors of our sect's scripture repository can also be opened to you in full. You will receive a yearly stipend of one hundred middle-grade Spirit Stones and three bottles of second-tier pills suited to Demon Cultivators. The resources of the nine counties under White Cloud Temple's jurisdiction will be yours to allocate as you wish."

"Your standing will be second only to mine, equal to the elders of our sect's peaks."

"What do you say?"