As soon as Zhang Shan, Sun Kang, and Liu Lan departed with smiles on their faces, the grin slid right off Old Daoist Li’s face. He sighed heavily, slumping into the chair before the table, his appetite completely gone.

“Little Brat, tell me… is a man’s fate carved in stone by the Heavens?”

He stared blankly ahead. “That little girl Liu Lan… Three Spirit Roots. Such fine aptitude. Her cultivation is fast, and she even has a shot at Foundation Establishment one day. Even that snake Steward Wang wouldn’t dare pinch a single grain of her Spirit Rice harvest.”

“But look at me. At my age, stuck with Five Spirit Roots… Deacon Fang was right. If I just follow the rules, I’ll never make it to the Outer Sect in this lifetime!”

At first, the Old Daoist was merely grumbling. But as he spoke, the frustration boiled over. He slammed his hand against the table and shot to his feet.

His voice turned raspy, his ugly face contorting into a mask of ferocity, eyes webbed with blood. He was clearly agitated to the limit.

Han Yu spoke calmly, trying to soothe him. “Master Daoist, even if we are Laborer Disciples, we still have the chance to cultivate. We’re far better off than those Servants with no Spirit Roots and no hope at all.”

The rules of Wanchun Valley had always been rigid. Unless one was a genius with Dual Spirit Roots or better—who would be snapped up by Elders and ushered directly into the Inner or Outer Sect—anyone with Three, Four, or Five Spirit Roots had to start at the bottom.

Those with Three Spirit Roots were considered the elite among the dregs. They cultivated quickly, were rarely bullied, and were all but guaranteed to eventually become Outer Disciples.

But for those with Four or Five Spirit Roots… the future was bleak.

“Easy for you to say!”

Old Daoist Li clenched his fists and stomped toward the door. “This Daoist used to ride the winds of the Jianghu, living free and fast! I spent my whole life seeking the Dao, begging for immortality… was it all just to end up like this? Powerless?”

He didn’t say another word to Han Yu. He strode out the door, his back radiating a desperate resolve.

Han Yu stared blankly at the empty doorway for a moment, then lowered his head and continued eating.

The rabbit meat the Old Daoist cooked was truly delicious. He wondered if he’d ever get to eat rabbit meat that had been properly bled like this again.

The next day, Han Yu and Old Daoist Li arrived outside Liu Lan’s stone hut.

Besides Zhang Shan and Sun Kang, two other male disciples and a rather pretty female disciple had come to celebrate Liu Lan’s success.

“Junior Sister Liu truly lives up to her Three Spirit Roots. Among us Laborer Disciples, you’re an absolute genius!”

“Exactly! It won’t be long before we have to call you Senior Sister Liu!”

The group piled congratulations onto Liu Lan, their words bordering on blatant flattery.

Liu Lan was happy enough. She wasn’t naturally arrogant or stern, so she grinned and waved everyone to their seats.

Zhang Shan stepped forward first, producing a stone that pulsed with faint energy. “Junior Sister Liu, congratulations on reaching the third layer of Qi Refining! You’re only one step away from the Outer Sect. Please, accept this small gift.”

Liu Lan’s eyes widened. “A Spirit Stone? That’s too much, Senior Brother Zhang! Thank you!”

With Zhang Shan leading the charge, Sun Kang and the others followed suit.

Sun Kang presented two Wind-Riding Talismans. The other two male Laborer Disciples, likely having coordinated beforehand, each gifted two jin of Green Grain Spirit Rice.

The pretty girl produced a jade hairpin. “Junior Sister Liu, I don’t have anything grand to give. This hairpin carries two protective charges. I picked it up at the Green Grain Market within the valley. Take it and use it…”

Liu Lan jumped to her feet. “Senior Sister Wei, this is too precious! How could I accept something like this?”

“We’ve been sisters for so long, why stand on ceremony? If I say take it, you take it!” Senior Sister Wei insisted, stuffing the hairpin into Liu Lan’s hands.

Liu Lan murmured polite refusals, but once the hairpin was in her grasp, she couldn’t hide her delight. She beamed, examining the artifact closely, momentarily forgetting the other guests.

Senior Sister Wei glanced curiously at the odd pair in the corner—Old Daoist Li and Han Yu.

“Do those two not have gifts?” her look seemed to ask.

Zhang Shan laughed and explained, “Li Quan and Han Yu have been here less than two months. They just came to offer their congratulations today.”

Senior Sister Wei’s expression cleared. “Oh. The ones who entered with a Keepsake Token? One with Four Spirit Roots, one with Five? Right, I heard about that.”

Old Daoist Li and Han Yu nodded.

Senior Sister Wei didn’t say another word to them. It was obvious she felt they had no potential worth her time.

As Liu Lan turned to entertain her guests, Old Daoist Li did some mental calculations. He quickly made an excuse about having urgent business and stood to leave.

The others had brought fine gifts. The food and drink Liu Lan prepared were clearly of high quality. It was one thing to show up empty-handed to say congratulations, but staying to stuff their faces would be shameless freeloading.

Liu Lan and Zhang Shan offered polite farewells but didn’t move from their seats.

Sun Kang, honest as ever, stood up and walked them all the way to the edge of Liu Lan’s spirit field.

“Senior Brother Sun,” Han Yu asked, “do you know how to draw talismans?”

“Me? Not a chance,” Sun Kang laughed. “Those two Wind-Riding Talismans were traded for at the Green Grain Market. They’re the simplest, cheapest talismans available.”

“Where is this Green Grain Market? How does one trade there?”

Before Han Yu could press further, Old Daoist Li’s eyes lit up, and he jumped in with the question, unable to contain his eagerness.

Sun Kang smiled. “Go back and wait a bit. Once I’m done celebrating with Junior Sister Liu, I’ll swing by your place and tell you all about the Green Grain Market.”

Old Daoist Li and Han Yu returned to the stone hut to wait.

Half a day later, a slightly tipsy Sun Kang arrived as promised to explain the workings of the market.

Wanchun Valley housed one or two hundred Inner Disciples, nearly a thousand Outer Disciples, two to three thousand Laborer Disciples, and around a thousand Servants incapable of cultivation.

Scattered across the vast Wanchun Valley, the population didn’t feel dense during daily cultivation. However, for living necessities and the exchange of cultivation resources, one couldn’t rely solely on the sect’s system of exchanging “Major Merit” and “Minor Merit.”

Inner and Outer Disciples had it better, but Laborer Disciples and Servants had precious few opportunities to exchange for goods within the sect. The market was essential for their survival.

Because Wanchun Valley assigned Deacons to manage it, the market was orderly and stocked with a wide variety of goods. Even Outer and Inner Disciples would occasionally visit to hunt for items. Sometimes, even external cultivators—Rogue Cultivators with no sect affiliation—would find their way in.

“The market is about ten li east of here. It’s considered to be under Wanchun Valley’s protection,” Sun Kang explained, the alcohol loosening his tongue. “There’s plenty of merchandise: talismans, pills, Magical Artifacts, formation arrays, spirit herbs, spirit fruits… everything. Some barter item-for-item, others buy directly with Spirit Stones or Spirit Rice.”

“Prices aren’t fixed. If you go to the Wanchun Hall—the sect’s official shop—prices are stable. But if you trade with individuals in the stalls… heh. You might pick up a treasure for dirt cheap, or you might get scammed out of your pants.”

After Sun Kang’s introduction, both Han Yu and Old Daoist Li had a rough understanding of the Green Grain Market.

“Those Servants who can’t cultivate… are they allowed in the market too?” Old Daoist Li asked.

Sun Kang nodded. “Aye, they’re there. Occasionally they stumble upon a spirit item or save up enough Spirit Rice to trade for what they need. For them, a lucky trade is like getting rich overnight. But… you also see them selling themselves, selling their children, or hawking mundane food and game.”

Old Daoist Li looked thoughtful, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. He forced a smile. “Thank you for the guidance, Senior Brother Sun!”

Han Yu echoed the thanks.

Sun Kang waved a hand dismissively. “We’re all fellow disciples, no need for the formality. In four months, after the Green Grain Spirit Rice harvest, I’ll take you both to the market for a spin. See what you can pick up.”

Old Daoist Li sighed heavily. “We have to hand over ninety percent of our harvest to the sect, and we still need to eat and cultivate. What will be left to buy anything?”

Sun Kang’s expression turned sympathetic, but he had no solution.

Steward Wang used precisely such excuses to squeeze the ordinary Laborer Disciples dry. They were people of little weight and soft words, living under another’s jurisdiction.

Who could change it?