Spells Grinding: From Basic Sparks to Divine Arts

Chapter 242: Trading Ground

The hunting party Qin Lu sought out had been personally recommended by Xi Ren. Renowned as one of the most professional beast-hunting outfits in Shuntian City, they even boasted a Golden Core cultivator as their silent backer. Whether in terms of reputation or reliability, they were considered top-tier.

After navigating a labyrinth of intermediaries, Qin Lu finally met the team’s leader, Lu Jiang, inside a battered, run-down building.

Lu Jiang was a burly man in his prime, his face marred by a jagged scar. His muscles were coiled tight beneath sun-baked skin, and his bare arms were crisscrossed with ferocious, pale lines—battle scars that radiated a brutal, feral aura.

“You’re looking for Black Mysterious Grass?” Lu Jiang took a long drag from a long-stemmed pipe, exhaling a thick cloud of acrid smoke.

“That’s right. Does Fellow Daoist happen to have this medicinal herb on hand?” Qin Lu asked, unable to hide a trace of anticipation.

“No.” Lu Jiang slouched deeper into his wooden chair. “There’s barely any demand for it, so keeping stock is a waste of space. Even if my men stumble across it, we rarely bother picking it.”

“I see…” Qin Lu couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. He mulled it over for a moment before asking, “Then, could Fellow Daoist point me toward the specific territory of the Earth Armor Dragon?”

Lu Jiang raised a heavy eyebrow. “You want to hunt it alone?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. The Earth Armor Dragon is a late second-stage Demon Beast. It’s a walking fortress with a vicious temper. You look like you’re only at the mid Foundation Establishment stage. Don’t throw your life away on an impulse.”

He means well, but he doesn’t know me, Qin Lu thought, brushing off the warning. He had already slaughtered his fair share of late second-stage Demon Beasts. With his current arsenal and cultivation, fighting above his weight class was practically second nature. He was confident he could butcher the beast without suffering a scratch.

“I appreciate the warning, Fellow Daoist,” Qin Lu said, cupping his hands politely. “However, I have my reasons, and I am confident in my abilities. You need not worry.”

Lu Jiang took another drag of his pipe and let out a long sigh. “Look, I’m telling you there’s no need to risk your neck. Reaching your level of cultivation isn’t easy… Forget it. I’ll just bring the Black Mysterious Grass back for you.”

Qin Lu’s eyes lit up. “Are you planning an expedition for an Earth Armor Dragon soon?”

“Yeah. We recently got a commission for the beast’s iron-like hide, so we’re heading out soon. Your timing is pretty damn good. I’ll just have my guys harvest the grass while we’re at it.”

“Thank you, Fellow Daoist!” Qin Lu beamed, thrilled that this roadblock had cleared so easily. He paused for a moment before asking the crucial question. “How many Spirit Stones will you charge for the trouble?”

“It’s a minor errand. Toss me a dozen or so Spirit Stones for the effort. Naturally, you’ll still have to pay the standard market rate for the herb itself once I bring it back.”

“Deal! Not a problem at all!” Qin Lu agreed without hesitation. At that rate, acquiring the Black Mysterious Grass wouldn’t even cost him a hundred Spirit Stones.

More importantly, this saved him a grueling trek into the untamed forests. He could now dedicate his time to tracking down the elusive Purple Treasure Ginseng. This was, without a doubt, a massive stroke of luck.

“Alright, come back in five days,” Lu Jiang said, waving a calloused hand to dismiss him.

“Understood.” Qin Lu stood, offered a respectful salute, and stepped out of the dingy room.

Stepping back out onto the bustling streets, Qin Lu felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Things were finally falling into place. He now had solid leads on all his missing medicinal ingredients, and it looked like he could gather them in record time.

Buoyed by the good news, Qin Lu cast his spiritual sense into his Storage Bag to take inventory of his wealth.

A moment later, he withdrew his senses, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

Why does everything always come back to money? he thought. I wonder how much Fan Yueren will charge to refine the pills… A top-tier second-grade Pill goes for three to four thousand Spirit Stones on the open market. The labor fee for an eccentric alchemist like him is going to be astronomical.

My liquid funds are drying up fast. I need to liquidate the Magical Artifacts I looted from those evil cultivators to pad my wallet in advance.

I’ll set up a stall at the trading ground. Who knows, I might even stumble across something useful while I’m at it.

Pawning the Magical Artifacts off at an established commercial shop would result in a heavily slashed price. It was a strategy for desperate men looking for a quick turnaround. Since Qin Lu wasn’t pressed for time, setting up a street stall was the smartest play. He could negotiate better margins and maximize his profits.

With a plan in mind, Qin Lu pivoted and merged into the flow of traffic heading toward the northern district—the heart of the city’s trading ground.

Shuntian City’s trading ground was the undisputed epicenter for independent merchants and wandering cultivators, operating on the same fundamental concept as the Wuji Market. The scale, however, was on an entirely different level.

It was a sprawling, thousand-acre expanse of flattened earth paved with smooth stone. Tens of thousands of stalls were crammed together in a dizzying maze of commerce. A cacophony of shouting, haggling, and the sheer roar of the crowd washed over the area like a physical wave.

Qin Lu paused at the entrance, genuinely taken aback by the sheer volume of humanity.

As he scanned the chaotic sea of merchants, his eyes widened slightly. Scattered among the Qi Condensation peddlers were quite a few Foundation Establishment cultivators hawking their wares.

He couldn’t help but sigh. Back in the White Jade Market or Wuji Market, a Foundation Establishment cultivator was a local lord. They were lofty, untouchable figures who would never dream of debasing themselves by yelling for customers in the dirt.

But Shuntian City was a different beast entirely. Here, a Foundation Establishment cultivator was just another fish in a very deep, very dangerous ocean. If you wanted to survive and thrive, pride was the first thing you had to sell.

Not wanting to rush, Qin Lu refrained from claiming a spot immediately. Instead, he folded his hands into his sleeves and wandered through the aisles, taking in the sights.

“Fresh meat! Second-stage Demon Beast, Black Water Boar!” a butcher roared, slamming a massive cleaver into a chopping block. “Hunted just this morning! Succulent and rich in spiritual energy! Don’t miss out, Fellow Daoists!”

“Clearance sale on High Grade, first-grade Talismans!” a scrawny man yelled nearby. “Penned by a true Foundation Establishment Talisman Master! Top-tier quality for bottom-tier prices!”

“Top Grade Magical Artifact! It breaks my heart to sell it, but my loss is your gain!” another merchant bellowed, waving a glowing short sword. “Lethal armor-piercing effects, perfect for beast hunting! Selling cheap for a mere thousand Spirit Stones!”

The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat, the sharp ozone of active spiritual tools, and the heavy, desperate energy of commerce.

A faint, amused smile touched Qin Lu’s lips as he navigated the throng. He skimmed over the lower-tier stalls, his gaze sweeping past piles of common herbs and rusted iron. He only slowed his pace when he approached the stalls manned by Foundation Establishment cultivators.

Suddenly, he stopped. A sharp glint flashed in his dark eyes.

He stood before a stall operated by a particularly rough-looking Foundation Establishment cultivator with a thick, unkempt beard. The man had spread out a large sheet of black canvas, which was currently overflowing with an utterly chaotic assortment of goods. Talismans, Magical Artifacts, array flags, and cloudy Pills were piled together without rhyme or reason, resembling a junk drawer more than a merchant’s display.

But it wasn’t the jumbled mess that had caught Qin Lu’s eye. It was the stack of weathered scrolls carelessly tossed into the corner of the canvas.

They were cultivation technique manuals.

And judging by the faint spiritual ripples they emitted, they were meant for the Foundation Establishment stage.

……