Cultivation: I Can Steal Lifespan from Spirit Beasts

Chapter 175: The Ghost Market’s Second Level

Canglan City. The City Lord’s Mansion.

As Wang Ba drifted down from the sky, City Lord Liu Yaodong’s face instantly contorted into a practiced, sycophantic smile.

“Greetings, Senior Shen.”

Beneath the pleasantry, however, lay a roiling sea of reverence and dread. Recalling his time following this man felt like waking from a fever dream—disturbing and surreal. During those days, it was as if he had been possessed; though his actions remained his own, his every thought and impulse had been tethered to this “Senior Shen.” It was a lingering psychological weight that made his knees weak in Wang Ba’s presence.

Wang Ba, conversely, looked upon the City Lord with indifference. He had implanted a few suggestive threads in the man’s mind, but he hadn’t truly harmed him. In fact, he’d left behind several Qi Refining pills as compensation. By his own moral compass, he felt they were even.

He gave a curt nod. “Where is Senior Brother Zhao?”

“Senior… Senior Zhao returned several days ago,” Liu Yaodong stammered, recovering quickly. “He has been in secluded cultivation within the meditation chamber ever since. He hasn’t emerged.”

Inwardly, the City Lord was reeling. He had never guessed that this mysterious Senior Shen was from the same sect as Zhao Feng. It explained why both were so terrifyingly formidable. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of monstrous sect produced such disciples.

Wang Ba wasn’t in a rush. He nodded calmly. “Then we shall wait.”

He paused, glancing at the City Lord. “By the way, you mentioned earlier that you knew the way to the second level of the Exquisite Ghost Market. Was that the truth?”

Liu Yaodong’s expression turned pained as he pointed at his own throat. “Replying to Senior… it is indeed true. However…”

Wang Ba understood immediately and gestured for him to stop. “I see. A Heart Demon Great Oath? No matter. Just lead us there when the time comes.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Senior!” Liu Yaodong exhaled, his face flooding with genuine relief.

Wang Ba didn’t let the downtime go to waste. He sat cross-legged to circulate his Qi and fed the weak little bird—the creature that now housed a fragment of a Golden Core soul—another serving of milk.

Half a day later, the doors to the meditation chamber creaked open. Zhao Feng stepped out, his sharp senses immediately locking onto Wang Ba’s aura.

“Junior Brother, apologies for the wait.”

A faint smile played on Zhao Feng’s lips. It seemed his time observing the Mountain Moving Ape’s tribulation had been incredibly fruitful. Wang Ba noticed that as Zhao Feng’s cultivation deepened, his aura as a sword cultivator grew paradoxically gentler—like a peerless blade resting in an ornate scabbard. But Wang Ba knew that once that blade was drawn, the world would turn cold.

“No hurry,” Wang Ba replied with a smile. “I only arrived recently myself.”

Without further delay, they signaled Liu Yaodong to lead the way to the entrance of the second level.

As they flew, the landscape of Yan Country blurred beneath them. Occasionally, they passed the powerful auras of other Foundation Establishment cultivators, but Wang Ba felt no trepidation. With Zhao Feng by his side—a “thick thigh” to lean on—he felt an unprecedented sense of security. Unless a Golden Core True Person cast aside all dignity to attack them personally, there were few in this land who could hope to detain them. For the first time, Wang Ba truly appreciated the value of having a powerful backing.

Under Liu Yaodong’s guidance, they reached a hidden branch of the market. After navigating a series of tedious security protocols, they finally stepped into the first level of the Exquisite Ghost Market.

According to the late Zhu Jianyi, the market was layered. To reach the elite second level, one had to pass through the common first level first. Liu Yaodong, clearly a regular, navigated the halls until he found the market overseer.

“Have both of you sworn the Heart Demon Great Oath?” the overseer asked—a stern, middle-aged man with sharp eyes.

Both men nodded. Zhao Feng had already performed the ritual years ago during his time in Song Country.

“Very well. As both of you are Foundation Establishment cultivators, you meet the requirements. Take these and follow me.” The overseer handed them each a Market Entry Token, then turned to Liu Yaodong. “You do not meet the criteria. Stay behind.”

Liu Yaodong bowed submissively, though he looked toward Wang Ba with a lingering worry. Wang Ba, ever cautious, subtly flicked a strand of Yin Spirit power into the City Lord’s shadow—a tracking insurance policy, just in case.

The overseer led them to a shimmering teleportation array.

“Fellow Daoists, once you arrive, do not panic. Watch your feet,” he warned cryptically.

Before they could ask for clarification, the overseer began slotting high-grade Spirit Stones into the array’s grooves. The formation roared to life, and a pillar of white light swallowed them whole.

When Wang Ba opened his eyes, he was surrounded by a sea of swirling white mist.

The fog was preternaturally thick. Even with his Divine Sense, he could only perceive a radius of about ten feet. Then, he remembered the overseer’s words. He looked down. Faintly, beneath the fog, a glowing black path cut through the gloom like a guide wire.

Wang Ba and Zhao Feng exchanged a wary look, retracted their auras to a minimum, and began following the black path through the silence.

After several minutes of walking, the mist began to thin. The range of their Divine Sense expanded, and the sounds of life began to filter through—voices, the rhythmic thud of boots, and the calls of merchants.

They quickened their pace. Suddenly, the fog vanished, revealing a bustling, magnificent city-within-a-city.

It was a market of staggering opulence. Cultivators moved through the streets, browsing stalls and haggling with a fervor that rivaled any mortal bazaar. Yet, there was an underlying pressure in the air. As Wang Ba scanned the crowd, his heart skipped a beat.

Every single person here was a Foundation Establishment cultivator—individuals who were considered masters in the outside world were here in such numbers they seemed common. Occasionally, a figure would pass by with an aura so vast and terrifying that it could only belong to a Golden Core True Person.

“Fellow Daoists, is this your first time on the second level?”

A pale, beardless old man approached them with a greasy, professional smile. “I have frequented this market dozens of times. My experience is vast, and I know every corner of this level. If you seek information, I am your man.”

Zhao Feng didn’t waste time. “Why are there so many Foundation Establishment cultivators here?”

Wang Ba pricked up his ears. To their surprise, the old man didn’t speak. Instead, he simply rubbed his thumb and forefinger together in the universal sign for currency.

Zhao Feng, a veteran of the world’s cold realities, frowned slightly. “How many?”

“Hehe, my rates are fair,” the old man chirped. “One Middle Grade Spirit Stone, and I shall tell you everything I know.”

Zhao Feng turned to Wang Ba, his face perfectly expressionless. “Junior Brother, you pay. I don’t have a single stone on me.”

Wang Ba stared at him. You’ve slain countless Demonic Cultivators, where did all the loot go?

Still, he wasn’t about to haggle over a single stone. He fished one out and handed it over. The old man’s eyes lit up, and he broke into a flurry of flowery praise.

“The two of you are truly celestial immortals descended to the mortal realm! Great virtue reborn! The sun and moon bow at your sight—”

“The answer, if you please,” Wang Ba interrupted dryly.

“Hehe, of course. This ‘second level’ isn’t just for this city. It is a spatial hub that connects all twelve Exquisite Ghost Market branches across Yan Country. At any given time, at least twenty percent of the rogue Foundation Establishment cultivators in the nation are here. Naturally, the numbers are impressive.”

Wang Ba was stunned. A spatial network connecting the entire country? Such a feat required immense resources and high-level Formation masters.

“Doesn’t the Ghost Market fear the scrutiny of the great sects?” Wang Ba asked. “Gathering so many powerful rogue cultivators in one place is bound to make them nervous.”

The old man laughed with supreme confidence. “The background of the Exquisite Ghost Market is deeper than you can imagine. Rest assured, the sects of Yan Country don’t have the gall to interfere. Even if you added the sects of Song, Lao, and Qiao… I doubt any would have the capability.”

Wang Ba and Zhao Feng shared a look of genuine shock.

“What exactly is the origin of this place?” Wang Ba pressed.

“I cannot say, I cannot say!” The old man shook his head, putting on a mysterious front.

However, when Zhao Feng narrowed his eyes and allowed a sliver of his sharp, sword-like intent to leak out, the old man’s smile faltered. He felt a cold prickling at his throat, as if a blade were already resting there. Even though violence was strictly forbidden here, the sheer pressure made him break out in a cold sweat.

“Hehe… truly, I don’t know the full details,” the old man stammered. “But I do know this: years ago, a Nascent Soul True Lord from the Spirit Suppressing Palace—the former number-one sect of Yan—personally moved against the Ghost Market. He returned defeated and empty-handed. Since then, no sect has dared to raise a finger against them.”

A Nascent Soul expert was defeated?

Wang Ba’s mind raced. The Sect Master of the Heavenly Gate Sect was also a Nascent Soul True Lord. If this story was true, the Ghost Market was a power on par with, or even greater than, the ruling sects. Why would such a titan go to the trouble of facilitating trade for rogue cultivators?

He suppressed the thought. Whatever schemes the Ghost Market had, they were far above his station. He was here for supplies, nothing more.

The old man continued to answer their questions with surprising patience, earning his fee.

“By the way,” the old man added before leaving, “I hear they will be allocating quotas for the third level of the market soon. If you are interested, you should head toward that palace over there.” He pointed toward a distant, shimmering structure.

After the guide departed, Zhao Feng turned to Wang Ba. “Junior Brother, I’m going to scout the nearby stalls for resources. Let’s meet back at the palace gates in a few hours.”

“Wait,” Wang Ba stopped him. “Senior Brother, you said you had no stones.”

Zhao Feng chuckled. “I ran out of Qi during my last breakthrough and refined my stones into pure energy. But I still have the Storage Bags from those Demonic Cultivators. The artifacts and gear inside should be worth enough in trade.”

Wang Ba nodded, then reached into his own bag to offer several vials of high-purity Spirit Poultry Essence. “Take these.”

Zhao Feng examined the golden liquid, then handed them back. “Good stuff, but my Dao body is condensed from my spirit and soul. Biological essence won’t help me.”

Wang Ba sighed and tucked them away. “If you find yourself short on stones, come find me.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be formal with you,” Zhao Feng said with a wave, disappearing into the crowd.

Wang Ba began his own trek through the stalls. The quality here was staggering. Within minutes, he saw a stall selling a second-grade, Top Grade offensive artifact. Its treasure light was so vibrant it made his eyes ache. However, the price tag—800 Middle Grade Spirit Stones—was a cold bucket of water over his head.

Realizing he couldn’t afford the high-end luxuries, he decided to stick to his plan. He approached the palace where the market’s high-level manager stood.

The manager was an old man in lavish brocade robes, his hair and beard snow-white. The aura radiating from him was so immense that Wang Ba felt a literal pricking sensation on his skin—like needles against his back.

Dangerous. This man was easily as strong as True Cultivator Lin, perhaps even stronger.

“Do you wish to set up a stall, Fellow Daoist?” the manager asked with a faint, polite smile. “The fee is ten Middle Grade Spirit Stones.”

It was a steep price, but Wang Ba paid it. In return, he received a specialized token.

“This token will conceal your cultivation and can mask your appearance while you trade,” the manager explained. “Return it when you are finished.”

Wang Ba found a prime spot near the palace, laid out his vials of Spirit Poultry Essence, and set up a wooden signboard. He picked up a brush and wrote his needs in bold, clear strokes:

[FOR SALE: SPIRIT POULTRY ESSENCE] Can be exchanged for Spirit Stones or Bartered.

[WANTED] 1. Cultivation Techniques for a Second Dantian. 2. First or Second-Grade Spirit Flames. 3. Spirit and Soul-related Techniques. 4. Water-Attribute Main Cultivation Manuals.

Thank you to reader 20220814145141329 for the tip.

(End of Chapter)