Cultivation: I Can Steal Lifespan from Spirit Beasts

Chapter 164: Large-Scale Purchasing

“This is the Nixia Ghost Market.”

Liu Yaodong stood before a stretch of city wall, gesturing to the scene ahead.

Wang Ba stared at the densely packed stalls lining the base of the wall. After the initial shock subsided, he was left with a profound sense of speechlessness.

It was nothing like the clandestine, shadow-draped enclaves he had imagined. The Nixia Ghost Market was operating openly, brazenly, right on the border between the State of Song and the State of Yan.

Along both sides of the border wall, the scene resembled a rustic country fair. Cultivators hawked their wares or haggled for resources without a shred of secrecy. Shouts and hawking cries rose and fell in a chaotic symphony. The atmosphere was thick with the “smoke and fire” of the mortal world—more bustling, in fact, than many secular market towns.

For Wang Ba, who was accustomed to the style of the Exquisite Ghost Market—places that seemed desperate to burrow into the earth to escape notice—this exposure triggered an inexplicable sense of insecurity.

“Aren’t they afraid of being targeted by the major Sects here?” Wang Ba couldn’t help but ask.

Liu Yaodong, seemingly unfazed, replied, “This location is sensitive. It sits right on the border. The great Sects of both nations fear that intervening would spark unnecessary friction. As a result, this has become one of the few Ghost Markets that can operate in the light of day.”

He gestured to the crowd. “Because this is the nexus of resource exchange between the two states, you can find treasures here that are rarely seen elsewhere. Many Rogue Cultivators travel thousands of miles to visit, and even disciples from major Sects sneak in to trade.”

“Of course,” Liu Yaodong added, “to protect the Sects’ interests, the Nixia Ghost Market is only allowed to open once a year, for three days. Miss it, and you wait a year.”

Wang Ba nodded slowly. It made sense, though a sliver of doubt remained.

Patrols of cultivators in uniform magical robes marched past occasionally, scanning the crowd with vigilant eyes. Anyone daring to disrupt the market would clearly face swift retribution.

Soon, Wang Ba’s attention was drawn to the stalls.

Many of the vendors possessed obscure, muddy auras; even Wang Ba couldn’t discern their specific cultivation realms. When he asked Liu Yaodong about it, the local guide explained immediately.

Vendors paid a fee and deposit to the market management to rent a Concealment Artifact. Below the Golden Core realm, these artifacts effectively masked one’s identity and cultivation.

Wang Ba immediately headed to the management office. He didn’t care about selling anything; he coveted the anonymity.

To his disappointment, it was the first day of the market. Every stall—and its accompanying artifact—had been leased.

However, Liu Yaodong surprised him. Leveraging his connections as a “local snake” among the Qi Refining crowd, he managed to procure two sets of inferior concealment gear.

“They won’t block the prying eyes of a Foundation Establishment cultivator,” Liu Yaodong admitted, handing one over, “but they’ll fool anyone in Qi Refining.”

Wang Ba accepted the gesture. It was better than nothing. He draped the artifact over himself and stepped into the fray.

The Nixia Ghost Market was truly an eye-opener.

Beyond the standard cultivator trinity of Magical Artifacts, Pills, and Talismans, there was a darker, more exotic economy at play. Slaves, Dao soldiers, puppets, spirit beasts, secret techniques, rare ores, and Spirit Chow were all on display. One cultivator was even selling intelligence on the locations of other Ghost Markets.

But the most absurd sight was a middle-aged man, allegedly a Sect Master, attempting to sell his entire Sect—territory, legacy, and disciples included—as a package deal.

His asking price? A single Profound Origin Return to Truth Pill, a third-grade medicine capable of aiding the condensation of a Golden Core.

“For a cultivator, breaking through the realm to attain the Dao is the only true aspiration. If the Sect becomes a shackle, discarding it is merely efficient. This Si Hongfei is ruthless, yes, but he stays true to the cultivator’s heart,” a watching Foundation Establishment cultivator commented sagely.

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.

Wang Ba shook his head imperceptibly. He could not agree.

Everyone had their own path, and he wouldn’t argue, but if he were in that position? He would simply abdicate and seek the Great Dao alone. He would never treat his disciples as currency to purchase his own advancement.

To Wang Ba’s surprise, someone actually took the bait. A mysterious figure made an offer, though they declined the real estate, purchasing only the disciples.

Si Hongfei was overjoyed, immediately entering deep negotiations with the buyer.

Wang Ba’s eyes narrowed as he watched the transaction. The buyer was almost certainly a practitioner of the Demonic Path. The fate awaiting those sold disciples was grim.

Yet, Wang Ba had no intention of intervening. He possessed the precious virtue of self-knowledge; he knew he lacked the power to be a savior.

After watching the spectacle, Wang Ba began to sweep through the stalls with clinical efficiency.

Though the stalls weren’t segregated by tier, the quality of goods usually betrayed the vendor’s cultivation level. He soon paused at a stall displaying Magical Artifacts.

While others haggled, Wang Ba’s Divine Sense swept over the array of first and second-grade items. He detected the faint, lingering iron scent of blood on many of them.

Clearly, the inventory was not clean. But in the world of Rogue Cultivators, “costless business”—murder and theft—was just another supply chain.

“What is the price for this?” Wang Ba pointed to a robe.

The vendor, a female cultivator of indeterminate age, was coldly stonewalling a Qi Refining customer. Sensing Wang Ba’s Foundation Establishment aura, her expression instantly thawed into a professional smile.

“Fellow Daoist has excellent vision. This robe offers top-tier defense among Second-Grade Middle Grade artifacts. It is the crown jewel of my stall. For you? One hundred and thirty Middle Grade Spirit Stones.”

Wang Ba considered it. The price was reasonable—perhaps twenty or thirty stones cheaper than in the State of Chen. Stolen goods, after all, carried no overhead.

His pouch was light on Spirit Stones after his previous shopping trips, but his Storage Bag was stocked with Spirit Poultry Essence and Spirit Turtle Essence. He produced a sample and began to negotiate.

The female cultivator sensed the potency of the essence, and her eyes lit up. She swiftly agreed to trade the robe for four basins of the Spirit Poultry Essence.

“Fellow Daoist, this Spirit Chow is extraordinary,” she remarked, stowing the basins. “I’ve consumed similar products, but they are usually adulterated with fillers. Yours… the Spiritual Qi is pure, but more importantly, the vitality and blood essence are incredibly dense.”

Wang Ba was not surprised.

His essence was extracted from mass quantities of actual Spirit Poultry. Unlike market vendors who diluted their product with vegetative spirit materials to boost volume, Wang Ba prioritized purity. He condensed the biological essence directly.

Even the Eastern Sage Sect, with its vast resources, struggled to match this quality because they lacked the ‘Extreme Blood Pill’ to purify bloodlines efficiently. Their breeding rates were pitiful compared to Wang Ba’s industrial output.

For most, Spirit Chow was a supplement. For Wang Ba, it was a science.

After exchanging transmission talismans, Wang Ba stored the robe and began the preliminary refinement process as he walked.

“Quick! Over there! Someone is selling Foundation Establishment Pills!”

“What?! Here? What’s the price?”

“Hurry! I heard they have other second-grade pills too!”

A wave of urgency swept through the crowd as Qi Refining cultivators stampeded toward the rumor. Wang Ba followed the current.

Listening to the vendor extol the virtues of his wares, Wang Ba learned something new: while most pills contained toxic residue, certain niche schools developed “toxin-free” variants. The trade-off was potency. They were weaker and expensive, making them unpopular with resource-starved Rogue Cultivators.

Wang Ba lost interest quickly. Compared to the cost-efficiency of his Spirit Poultry Essence, pills were a luxury tax he didn’t need to pay.

He left the crushing crowd and resumed his methodical scan.

Seeds for second-grade spirit plants. Basic utility spells. He bought them all. Even if a spell wasn’t combat-viable compared to his Golden Wind and Jade Dew Art, it could broaden his foundational understanding. With Lifespan to burn on instant mastery, knowledge was never a waste.

He hadn’t found a cultivation method that suited him, but while sifting through a pile of miscellaneous texts, he unearthed a book titled Mountain Moving Ape Atlas.

Curiosity piqued, he flipped it open. A jolt of surprise ran through him.

It was a casual manuscript penned by a beast-taming cultivator, detailing the habits and rearing of Mountain Moving Apes.

One passage stood out: Among the apes, there exists a variant distinct from its violent kin. Naturally quiet, it prefers to sit in meditation, attempting to absorb the Qi of Heaven and Earth through its flesh. This quiet ape is the natural King of the race. It possesses superior intellect and body control.

If such an ape passes the Minor Heavenly Lightning Tribulation and enters the Second Grade, it can break through racial limits, potentially evolving into a Second-Grade Middle Grade spirit beast.

Wang Ba thought of his first ape. The one that sat like an old monk, motionless day after day.

He had bought a King for the price of a commoner.

Reading further, Wang Ba’s excitement mounted. The author had tucked a cultivation theory for post-breakthrough apes into the footnotes. Wang Ba, who had already formulated a Bloodline Breakthrough prescription, cross-referenced his data with the text.

Inspirations fired like sparks. He mentally revised his formula on the spot. He quickly listed the necessary materials—spirit herbs, ores, catalysts—and sent Liu Yaodong to hunt them down.

The shopping spree continued.

Wang Ba raided the spirit beast stalls, acquiring creatures native to Song and Yan that he had never seen before. He spent a significant amount of essence, mostly on First-Grade beasts. Second-Grade beasts were prohibitively expensive, and the higher-tier ones were nowhere to be found.

Still, the haul would massively enrich his database for the Spirit Chef inheritance.

Liu Yaodong returned, breathless, delivering a surprise.

“Senior, I found the Hundred Fragrance Bees you described. Check this hive.”

Wang Ba confirmed the species and bought the nest immediately. Spirit insects were cheap unless they possessed combat abilities.

Liu Yaodong also delivered the materials for the ape.

Wang Ba nodded, satisfied. Once he retrieved the supplies left at the chicken farm, he could begin the procedure. With enough Lifespan injected to accelerate growth, the ape would face its Tribulation and ascend.

As the day wound down, Wang Ba spotted a Second-Grade High Grade flying artifact.

He didn’t hesitate. He emptied his pockets.

Survival had one prerequisite: speed. If you can’t win, you must be able to run.

He was now penniless in terms of Spirit Stones, retaining only his essential gear and the Spirit Turtle Essence for his own cultivation. But he had achieved every objective and more.

He considered setting up a stall to sell some of his new beasts to recoup funds.

Suddenly, Wang Ba froze.

A slightly plump cultivator walking toward him faltered, a look of surprise flashing across his face.

The pause was microscopic.

Neither spoke.

Wang Ba forced a polite, shallow smile, nodded in acknowledgment to a “stranger,” and continued walking with practiced calm.

The plump cultivator—an older man with greying temples—mirrored the expression. He smiled the smile of someone encountering a vaguely familiar face, and walked past Wang Ba.

They crossed paths. Shoulders brushed the air.

The moment they were back-to-back, the smile vanished from Wang Ba’s face.

Run.

Leave now.

He had recognized the man. It was the “Gao Zhenxiu” he and Zhu Jianyi had encountered back in the Exquisite Ghost Market.

To meet him here, now? The coincidence was too sharp. It felt unnatural. An alarm blared in his intuition.

He extended his senses. The man was not following him.

Wang Ba immediately dove into the thickest part of the crowd, weaving toward the exit of the Ghost Market.

In the opposite direction.

Li Qu stopped. He glanced down at his palm, where a speck of grey dust was fading into his skin.

A cold amusement danced in his eyes.

“You may be as cunning as a ghost, but you cannot escape the scent of Musk Horn Incense.”