Night fell.

Qin Lu had barely fallen asleep when sudden sounds of fighting erupted outside the courtyard.

Startled, he quickly got up and stood in the yard, cautiously on guard, afraid that people might break into his home.

Fortunately, the fighting didn’t reach him.

However, the shouts and screams continued throughout the entire night, only gradually subsiding as dawn approached.

Sensing that the battle had ceased, Qin Lu, who had spent a restless night, hurried over to Lu Xian’s home to inquire about the situation.

From Lu Xian, he learned news that was both shocking and expected:

Yu Xiu had been killed.

The Yu family, which had dominated the Wuji Market for over a decade, had collapsed overnight.

All their shops were instantly divided among the other four Foundation Establishment forces. Last night’s fighting had been the bloody process of this division.

The market turmoil had escalated once again.

Just as Qin Lu worried that the situation would worsen, he heard the sound of the patrol team making their rounds.

The patrol team, absent for more than half a month, had finally reappeared. They beat, scolded, arrested, and even killed—cleansing the streets of all cultivators causing trouble.

With such swift and decisive measures, order in the market was immediately restored.

Upon discovering the patrol team’s presence, the remaining four forces simultaneously halted their conflict. They all sensed that the Foundation Establishment cultivators from the Wuji Sect were about to arrive.

Seizing this opportune moment, Qin Lu gathered his hundred-odd bottles of medicinal liquid and headed out.

Stepping onto the street, he saw that in just one short night, the market seemed to have endured a massive war.

Everywhere he looked were traces of battle: bloodstains, corpses, torn flesh, scorch marks, collapsed houses, and intermittent cries of pain. All of this testified to the ferocity of the previous night’s clashes.

But fortunately, thanks to the patrol team’s frequent rounds, there was no longer any fighting on the streets.

Many bold cultivators dared to step out of their courtyards, making their way to the bustling center of the market. There, Qin Lu found that the damage was minimal, and many cultivators wore faint smiles.

They gathered in groups of three or five, enthusiastically discussing last night’s events as if it had nothing to do with them.

“It seems living here is truly the safest choice,” Qin Lu secretly resolved.

Most shops on the street were closed, with only a few large stores still open. The former Yu family shops had already changed their signs, having switched owners overnight.

Qin Lu walked into a pill shop and asked about the price of discarded medicinal liquids. When he learned that the price had risen to fifteen Spirit Stones, he couldn’t help but feel ecstatic.

He had guessed right. The price had indeed soared, and his chance to get rich had arrived.

Pretending he couldn’t afford it, Qin Lu turned and left the shop, then quickly headed toward the market square.

The once-bustling market was now devoid of its usual hustle and bustle, with many stalls standing empty. Only a handful of Loose Cultivators remained setting up stalls, and without exception, these were all mid-to-late stage Qi Condensation cultivators.

After all, only those with strong abilities dared to venture out now.

Qin Lu took a quick look around and found no one selling medicinal liquids, which delighted him even more.

He quickly found a good spot, laid down a black cloth on the ground, and arranged several bottles of Blood-Replenishing Liquid and Qi-Nourishing Liquid on the cloth. He then took out his price sign, thought for a moment, and rewrote the price with ink powder:

Emergency Healing Liquid, twelve Spirit Stones per bottle!

When Qin Lu had purchased the liquids earlier, the average price was six Spirit Stones; now, selling at twelve, his profit had doubled. This meant that if he sold his entire stock, he could net over six hundred Spirit Stones.

This profit was equivalent to two months of painstakingly crafting talismans.

Not long after setting up his stall, the first customer approached. She was a middle-aged, destitute female cultivator, looking anxious as she glanced at the stall and asked quickly, “Fellow Daoist, do you have Blood-Replenishing Liquid?”

“Of course I do. This is it.” Qin Lu picked up a small porcelain bottle.

“Great!” The woman’s face lit up, but when she saw the price, her expression turned troubled. “Fellow Daoist, why is it so expensive? Isn’t it usually five Spirit Stones?”

“Yesterday was yesterday; today is today. I’m asking this price—take it or leave it.”

“Hmm…” The woman hesitated for a moment, then finally pulled out her Spirit Stones and gritted her teeth. “Give me one bottle!”

The exchange was completed.

Watching the woman walk away, Qin Lu pocketed the Spirit Stones. He thought for a moment, then picked up the ink powder to add another sentence to the sign:

No bargaining!

With the first customer gone, the second soon followed.

The recent turmoil had left many cultivators injured. If left untreated, their injuries could worsen. But ordinary cultivators simply couldn’t afford expensive pills, usually relying instead on cheap, discarded medicinal liquids for healing.

Seeing the patrol team appear, many cultivators breathed a sigh of relief and rushed out to buy medicine. Yet when they saw the pill shops charging fifteen Spirit Stones, they all wore expressions of disbelief.

Thanks to his competitors’ high prices, Qin Lu’s liquids at twelve Spirit Stones each sold extremely well.

Through word-of-mouth, more and more cultivators gathered around his stall.

“Fellow Daoist, can’t you give me a discount?”

“Fellow Daoist, I only have ten Spirit Stones today—can I borrow one bottle for now and return the remaining two Spirit Stones later?”

“Fellow Daoist, my father is seriously injured and urgently needs life-saving medicine!”

“Huh? Isn’t this the Swallowing Sky Python? Why are you selling medicine now?!”

“…”

A noisy clamor arose as people crowded around Qin Lu’s stall, making a racket. Many simply ignored the “No Bargaining” sign.

“No bargaining! No bargaining! This is the price! Those without money, make way for those behind you! Don’t block the path!”

Qin Lu shouted loudly, struggling to maintain order, but with little effect.

Hmm?

Out of the corner of his eye, Qin Lu suddenly drew his Shangqing Sword and thrust it forcefully.

Hisss!

The long sword plunged straight into the shoulder of a Loose Cultivator squatting beside the stall.

Instantly, blood gushed forth.

“Youngster! I advise you not to think about touching anything here!”

Qin Lu glared at the young cultivator, his tone icy cold, his whole body radiating a thick aura of killing intent.

This person had been secretly trying to snatch a bottle.

“Big brother! Misunderstanding! Misunderstanding!”

The young cultivator’s face turned deathly pale. He quickly dropped the porcelain bottle and covered his face, begging for mercy.

“Without the patrol team today, your life wouldn’t be safe—get lost!” Qin Lu barked, retracting his sword back into its sheath.

Seeing this, the young man could only clutch his bleeding shoulder, squeeze through the crowd, and slink away.

This sudden scene caused the entire crowd to fall silent. In everyone’s eyes directed at Qin Lu, there was now an added measure of respect.

Few could even react to that sword strike just now—let alone see it clearly.

Precisely because of this strike, the bargaining vanished instantly, and the chaotic crowd began to settle down.

With this deterrent established, Qin Lu’s business proceeded smoothly.