Cultivation: I Can Steal Lifespan from Spirit Beasts

Chapter 162: Spirit-Entrusting Candle

Inside the stone pavilion.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar, whose face usually possessed the stillness of a thousand-year-old rock, finally revealed a crack in his composure.

A flicker of rage surfaced.

And with that single flicker, the air within the pavilion instantly congealed into a suffocating weight.

The surrounding attendants fell deathly silent, trembling like cicadas in late autumn.

The slightly plump old man seated nearby sensed the shift in atmospheric pressure. He stared at the scholar, his eyes wide with unconcealed shock.

A storm raged in his heart.

Late-stage Foundation Establishment?! How is that possible? Didn’t he just advance to the Mid-stage seven or eight years ago?

Unlike the Qi Refining realm, which was graduated into ten distinct layers, the Foundation Establishment realm was separated into only three stages: Early, Mid, and Late.

Yet, every single step forward usually demanded an immense investment of time—often decades of bitter cultivation. Naturally, those with heaven-defying spiritual roots could shorten this process, but for most, it was a long, arduous grind.

There was also the state known as ‘Foundation Establishment Perfection,’ but that was merely a description of a Late-stage cultivator who had polished their state to its absolute limit.

Regardless, bridging the gap from Mid-stage to Late-stage in less than a decade was terrifying.

The trace of contempt the plump old man had previously held for the scholar vanished like smoke in the wind, replaced instantly by a heavy solemnity.

He leaned forward, his tone shifting to one of deference. “Fellow Daoist Lin, if you have need of anything, simply command it.”

The world of cultivation had always been thus: worship the strong, trample the weak. It was the only law that mattered.

Sensing the goodwill—and fear—radiating from the plump elder, the Confucian scholar did not reject it. Though his anger was difficult to suppress, the killing intent in his ancient, rippleless eyes sharpened.

“My thanks, Fellow Daoist Li.”

“This person first slaughtered several of my young attendants, then coerced Jianyi into entering the Exquisite Ghost Market. Not long after leaving the market, Jianyi was murdered… Clearly, this person’s target is the Ghost Market network.”

The scholar’s voice was cold iron. “Since that is the case, we shall coordinate with the major Ghost Markets. If this person is sighted, I must be notified immediately. If anyone can capture him, I, Lin, guarantee a heavy reward!”

Standing to the side, the steward Xi Meng bowed deeply. “Master, I will see to it at once.”

The City Lord of Golden River City, not wanting to be left out, immediately chimed in. “I will personally handle the contact with the Ghost Markets in the surrounding major cities.”

The plump old man, Fellow Daoist Li, added, “I have some connections with the management of several markets. While they may not intervene to stop such a dangerous individual, buying their information for a timely report should not be an issue.”

“Then I am in your debt.” The scholar raised his hands in a polite salute.

The plump elder hurriedly stepped sideways, daring not to accept the full courtesy of a Late-stage Foundation Establishment powerhouse.

Soon, the group dispersed, spreading out like a net to hunt for the killer’s trail.

Silence returned to the pavilion. Only the middle-aged Confucian scholar remained.

The rage that had filled the air moments ago evaporated, leaving his face as smooth and expressionless as a mask. Only a gleam of cold calculation remained in his eyes.

“According to the plan, Jianyi was supposed to visit one more small-scale Ghost Market to distribute the final batch. That means… his Storage Bag should still contain between ten to twenty sub-worms.”

The scholar’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the stone table.

“Ideally, Jianyi’s death is of no consequence. But losing those sub-worms… that is troublesome.”

The Yin Food Worm mother could only produce ninety-nine sub-worms in its entire lifecycle. If a sub-worm died, it could not be replaced. One death meant one less extraction tool forever.

This was the true source of his fury.

The sub-worms were the foundation of his cultivation path. He could not tolerate even the slightest deviation.

“I must recover them. Every single one.”

Wang Ba traveled north, following the winding path of the Golden Ripple River.

He passed several cities along the way. It was obvious that the further north he flew, the more desolate the land became. These cities were largely devoid of cultivators. Even when he did sense spiritual fluctuations, the practitioners were pitifully weak—far inferior to even Wu Hai back in Li Three Bays.

It was a visible decline in quality.

Yet, Wang Ba understood this to be the natural order.

In this world, geniuses who could ascend to immortality solely on their own talents existed, but they were as rare as phoenix feathers.

The vast majority of cultivators could only hope to touch the Dao by gathering together—pooling resources, sharing experiences, and covering for each other’s weaknesses.

This was the value of a Sect.

The accumulation of generations allowed a Sect to snowball into a behemoth. If a generation was lucky enough to produce a brilliant leader, the entire organization would ascend to a new level, benefiting all disciples who followed.

In contrast, typical Rogue Cultivators had no resources, no ancestral wisdom, and no reliable guidance. Added to the suppression by established Sects, their chances of overtaking a Sect disciple were infinitesimal.

Therefore, the weakness of the rogue cultivators in these remote cities was not an anomaly; it was the baseline reality.

Wang Ba did not waste time. He soared over these desolate settlements, heading straight for Canglan City.

After another stretch of flight, a massive silhouette appeared on the horizon. His enhanced vision picked out the three large characters etched into the city walls from miles away: Canglan City.

Wang Ba descended, landing his flying artifact outside the perimeter. He applied a few subtle disguises to his aura and appearance before walking through the gates like a mortal.

He took a stroll through the streets.

Compared to a backwater town like Li Three Bays, Canglan City was undeniably majestic. Finding a specific cultivator in such a sprawl would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

However, Wang Ba had his methods. He located a chatty local, spent a few coins on tea and conversation, and quickly mapped out the local power structure.

“The City Lord…”

Wang Ba weighed his options, then turned and walked directly toward the most ostentatious building in the city center.

“Halt! This is the City Lord’s Manor!”

A mortal guard drew his blade, barking the command.

Wang Ba didn’t even bother utilizing his Yin Spirit. Relying purely on the explosive strength of his tempered body, he leapt. He soared over the high walls in a single bound, landing silently within the inner courtyard.

Instantly, a squad of heavy infantry wielding halberds swarmed in, encircling him.

“Who goes there?!”

A female cultivator clad in colorful silks stormed out from the garden. She had a decent face ruined by a pair of horizontal, aggressive eyebrows and a voice that grated like scraping metal. “Where did this petty thief come from? You dare trespass in the City Lord’s Manor?”

However, the moment her spiritual sense brushed against Wang Ba, she froze.

“A… A cultivator?!”

“Ask your master to come out. I have questions.” Wang Ba stood with his hands clasped behind his back, ignoring the steel points aimed at his chest.

To him, the threat was non-existent. Aside from the woman—who was a measly Qi Refining Level 2—everyone else was a mortal.

His dismissal infuriated the woman. “My master is not someone you can summon just because you wish it—”

“Yuqi, silence.”

A clear, melodious voice drifted from the depths of the garden.

The woman in colorful silks spun around, her expression shifting to adoring worship. “Master!”

Wang Ba had already sensed the newcomer with his Divine Sense, but he politely turned his head.

A young man strolled out. He was undeniably handsome, dressed in a robe of flowing gold that shimmered with enchantments. He moved with a deliberate, aristocratic slowness, as if he were a celestial being descending to grace the mortal dust.

Light practically rippled around him. It was blinding.

The woman, Yuqi, looked at him with stars in her eyes.

Wang Ba, however, frowned.

Damn it. This dog-fart City Lord is only at the fourth or fifth layer of Qi Refining, yet his outfit is flashier than a Golden Core Elder.

And why is he walking so slowly? It’s twenty paces. He’s wasting my time.

Impatience flared in Wang Ba’s chest. He didn’t speak. He simply reached out his hand and squeezed the air.

Boom.

His Spiritual Energy surged, condensing instantly into a translucent, giant hand directly in front of the golden-robed youth.

The “celestial” young man’s face went pale. He tried to dodge.

But how could a mid-stage Qi Refining show-off evade a Foundation Establishment strike?

The spiritual energy hand snatched him up like a farmer grabbing a chicken. It squeezed, crushing his protective light, and then tossed him through the air.

Thud.

The City Lord landed at Wang Ba’s feet like a sack of sand.

The surrounding guards and the woman watched, their eyes bulging from their sockets. The color drained from Yuqi’s face. She couldn’t even squeak. Even with her arrogance, she realized instantly that this intruder was an existence far beyond their comprehension.

The terror of having scolded such a monster moments ago made her blood run cold.

Wang Ba reached down and gently helped the disheveled, terrified City Lord to his feet.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” Wang Ba said with a humble, apologetic smile. “I ask. You answer.”

The young City Lord, having had his reality shattered in one second, nodded frantically like a pecking hen.

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Whatever Senior needs to know, this Junior will spill it all!”

“Which Ghost Markets are nearby? Are any opening recently?” Wang Ba asked efficiently.

Having experienced Wang Ba’s ‘act first, speak later’ diplomacy, the City Lord poured out everything he knew. Of course, he was bound by certain vows regarding the higher-level secrets of the markets, preventing him from speaking certain details.

Wang Ba wasn’t the trusting type. He utilized his Yin Spirit to scan the man’s fluctuations, verifying the truth.

The boy wasn’t lying.

“Besides the Canglan Ghost Market, there is the Luofu Ghost Market, the Exquisite Ghost Market, and the ‘Neon Haze Ghost Market’ secretly run by Rogue Cultivators from the Yan and Song border…”

“Wait,” Wang Ba interrupted. “Why is there an Exquisite Ghost Market here as well?”

The youth blinked, confused. “The Exquisite Ghost Market has branches all over the Yan and Song nations. Naturally, there is one here.”

“However… I’ve heard that the first and second floors are local and separate. But once you reach the third floor, all the Exquisite Ghost Markets across the lands connect to a single location. That is where the true treasures are found.”

They connect?

Wang Ba was internally shaken.

To link multiple spatial nodes across two nations… wouldn’t that require resources on par with the Heavenly Gate Sect?

No… Wang Ba corrected himself. Using teleportation arrays to gather cultivators from vast distances is technically far more difficult than maintaining five static sect bases.

The background of this organization was terrifying. Zhu Jianyi had speculated they were backed by a Golden Core master, but this scale suggested a Nascent Soul True Lord.

“When does the local branch open?” Wang Ba asked.

“On the day of the full moon. It is open now,” the City Lord replied, eager to please.

“Take me.”

The Exquisite Ghost Market typically remained open for three days. They were still within the window.

Under Wang Ba’s supervision, the young City Lord led him to the hidden entrance. Perhaps because the City Lord had already sworn the entrance oath, or perhaps due to the market’s specific rules here, Wang Ba was able to enter the first floor without swearing a new vow.

He swept his gaze across the underground plaza.

It was indeed different from the one near Golden River City—the layout, the architecture, the specific gloom. But the atmosphere of hushed commerce was the same.

Wang Ba circled the stalls but found little of interest.

His only harvest was a relatively obscure Tier-2 special technique: Spirit-Entrusting Candle.

It was a legacy from a fallen sect. The technique allowed a cultivator to entrust a wisp of a disciple’s soul onto a specially refined candle.

If the disciple lived, the flame burned bright. If the flame died, the soul had scattered.

Wang Ba immediately thought of the Spirit-Hosting Bamboo Slip.

The two techniques were different paths to the same destination. However, the Spirit-Entrusting Candle was for monitoring status, while the Spirit-Hosting Bamboo Slip was for domination and control.

This is perfect for testing the effects of the Yin Food Worm sub-worms, Wang Ba mused.

He decisively purchased the scroll, paying with half a basin of Spirit Poultry essence.

He was gradually realizing the purchasing power of this essence. Compared to standard Spirit Chow, the essence of a Tier-1 Low-Grade Spirit Chicken was potent enough to be treated as a pill for Qi Refining cultivators—but without the accumulation of pill poison. Even Foundation Establishment cultivators found it useful as a supplement.

It was a hard currency.

Finding nothing else of value, Wang Ba turned to his guide.

“Yaodong, do you know how to access the second floor?”

The City Lord, Liu Yaodong, was much smarter than the late Zhu Jianyi. He had been cooperative to the point of servility.

“Senior, if you asked other City Lords, they might be clueless. But this Junior happens to know the method.” Liu Yaodong puffed out his chest slightly. “However, the second floor only opens once every six months. The next opening is over a month away.”

Wang Ba nodded, hiding his disappointment. It was consistent with the other branches.

Liu Yaodong recited the entry method, and Wang Ba committed it to memory.

Having achieved his goal, Wang Ba led Liu Yaodong out of the market.

“Senior, the Luofu Ghost Market opens in five days. Why not rest at my humble manor until then?” Liu Yaodong offered.

Wang Ba shook his head. He casually reinforced the Yin Spirit restriction in Liu Yaodong’s mind—just to be safe—and then vanished into the city, finding an inconspicuous corner to rent a quiet dwelling.

He had time to kill.

Sitting cross-legged in his temporary safehouse, he retrieved the scroll for the Golden Wind Swift Arrow Art and a pile of heavy Metal Spiritual Iron Sand.

Idle time is dangerous time, Wang Ba thought. Better to turn it into strength.

He closed his eyes, immersing himself in the flow of spiritual energy and metal.