“Hmm?”

Qin Lu lowered the book in his hand, patiently watching the three youngsters in front of him. They were gesticulating wildly, their explanations tumbling over one another in a chaotic rush.

It didn’t take long for him to piece it together.

In short: they wanted to go out and court death.

It was a reckless, arguably brainless request, yet Qin Lu found he couldn’t come up with a valid reason to refuse them.

First, he wasn’t a ruthless capitalist. These three worked hard for him; they deserved time off.

Second, cultivators couldn’t be raised like hothouse flowers. If they were never exposed to the wind and rain, they would never grow. They needed to walk the jianghu, to temper themselves in the real world. They were nearly adults, after all; excessive coddling would only cripple them.

Third, the White Jade Market wasn’t the Wuji Market. The surrounding wilderness here was far less perilous. The area was mostly populated by mortals, lacking the dense concentration of vicious Demon Beasts found in the chaotic borderlands. With their current strength, a short excursion shouldn’t pose a fatal threat.

“Go ahead,” Qin Lu said with a smile. “Just be careful.”

The trio’s faces lit up instantly, grinning from ear to ear.

They bowed and turned to dash off, but Qin Lu’s voice stopped them at the threshold.

“Hold on. Since you’re heading out, take these for safety. You need some insurance.”

With a flick of his wrist, several golden slips of paper drifted through the air, hovering gently before them. They were [Body Protection Shield] talismans.

“Thank you, Lord!” Feng Xi beamed, snatching the talismans from the air with delight.

The three pocketed their gifts, bowed deeply in gratitude, and finally scampered off, their excitement palpable.

Once the room was quiet, Qin Lu leaned back in his chair and picked up his book again.

It wasn’t a cultivation manual, but the latest issue of the Immortal Sect Monthly Report.

This publication was the primary news source for the entire Flowing Cloud Prefecture, recording the movements of major and minor sects alike. It covered everything from earth-shattering geopolitical shifts to petty gossip and rumors.

On one page, Qin Lu even spotted a marriage proposal in the corner. The dowry listed was astronomical, though the accompanying portrait of the bride… well, it explained the need for such a generous dowry.

Qin Lu skipped past the fluff and focused on the bold, black characters dominating the front page.

[WAR UPDATE: The Conflict Between Wuji Sect and Dragon Tiger Sect Enters Endgame!]

[Coalition Forces Besiege Mount Cangwu! Wuji Ancestor Zhang Zhenyuan Faces Inescapable Doom!]

“Truly unexpected…”

Qin Lu sighed, closing the booklet as a wave of complex emotions washed over him.

When he first entered this world, he had naively assumed that wars between cultivation sects were simple affairs—a duel between the strongest experts. He thought the Golden Core ancestors would just fly up, exchange a few blows, and whoever won would claim victory for their sect.

He had been wrong. Dead wrong.

The two Golden Core ancestors hadn’t fought a single direct duel. Instead, they acted as generals. They mobilized armies of disciples, established supply lines, and engaged in a grinding war of attrition at the borders.

It was just like mortal warfare, only with flying swords and fireballs. They captured resource points, sieged mountain gates, and slowly strangled the enemy’s territory.

Under the lobbying of Zhang Zhenyuan and Zhu Lian, neighboring Golden Core factions had been dragged into the mire, investing troops and resources. Foundation Establishment commanders led battalions of Qi Condensation cannon fodder into the meat grinder.

It was the largest conflict the Flowing Cloud Prefecture had seen in decades.

For a full year, the fighting had been ceaseless. Every day, countless cultivators threw themselves into the vortex like moths to a flame, their lives extinguished in an instant.

“Sigh. It’s a good thing I ran when I did. If I had stayed, Li Qingdu would have definitely dragged me to the front lines. I’d be a pile of bones in a ditch by now.”

Qin Lu shook his head, a cold sweat forming on his back. It was the relief of a survivor who had narrowly escaped a calamity.

According to the Monthly Report, the war had indeed spilled over into the Wuji Market.

A secret strike force from the opposing coalition had launched a surprise raid. The battle was described as catastrophic. The report lacked details, but the outcome was stark: Wuji Market had fallen. Market Master Li Qingdu had barely escaped with his life, aided by a mysterious benefactor, but he was gravely wounded.

“Mount Cangwu is under siege. The Wuji Sect’s defeat is set in stone. The only thing left is the messy scramble for their territory.”

Qin Lu rubbed his chin, connecting the dots. “That explains the influx of strangers in the White Jade Market recently. All those cultivators missing arms and legs… they must be refugees fleeing the war zone.”

“Throughout history, across all worlds… when the elephants fight, it’s the grass that gets trampled. The poor and powerless always suffer the most.”

He stared out the window at the parasol tree in the courtyard, his gaze distant.

After a long moment, he shook his head, physically dispelling the gloomy thoughts. “Forget it. No point worrying about the sky falling. I just need to manage my own little patch of earth.”

He set the Monthly Report aside and picked up a stack of ledgers.

These were the accounts for his five shops.

The Gambling Den, Talisman Shop, and Robe Shop were running on autopilot. Since they hadn’t changed the business model, Lu Xian and the others had adapted quickly. The income was stable—steady, if unremarkable.

The Pill Shop, however, was bleeding money. Converting the herb shop had been a risk, and with low inventory and a lack of reputation, it was currently spending more than it earned.

But the real star of the portfolio was the converted tavern.

Qin Lu had installed special lighting arrays that bathed the interior in a warm, crimson glow, enhancing the visual freshness of the meat. He had personally named it—The Red Light Shop.

Thanks to the hard work of Cao Yunxi and his wife, the Red Light Shop had transformed into the premier butchery in the White Jade Market. Business wasn’t just good; it was explosive.

The secret to their success was simple: Supply Chain Monopoly.

Previously, there were no dedicated meat shops in the market. Loose Cultivators sold raw carcasses on dirty street corners. It was unhygienic, the selection was random, and buying was a hassle.

Worse, Demon Beast meat spoiled quickly without preservation. Hunters often wasted half their haul because it rotted before they could sell it.

Qin Lu had seen the gap in the market. He and Cao Yunxi negotiated exclusive contracts with the local hunting teams. The hunters sold their entire catch to the Red Light Shop in bulk. It was faster and easier for them, even if the price was slightly lower than market rate.

For Qin Lu, it meant a steady, diverse supply of product.

He used [Cold Talismans] to build industrial freezers, ensuring zero waste.

The result? A clean, well-stocked shop where customers could buy exactly what they wanted, whenever they wanted. The Loose Cultivators flocked to it.

“Not bad. Not bad at all,” Qin Lu murmured, tracing the profit column. “The income from this meat shop alone dwarfs what I make from alchemy and talismans combined.”

A greedy glint flashed in his eyes.

“The location is the only bottleneck. The tavern is tucked away in a corner. If I could get a prime spot from Jiang Ge…”

“If I can fully monopolize the meat trade in this market… the daily revenue would be terrifying.”

“Hmm. Definitely worth considering.”

He nodded slowly, locking the strategy into his mind. In this market, real estate transactions required the Demon Slaying Sect’s approval, so he would need to pull some strings.

Qin Lu closed the ledger and stood up, stretching his stiff back.

Suddenly, he froze.

A wave of spiritual pressure washed over the courtyard. It was an aura he knew intimately, yet it felt completely alien.

It was familiar because he had spent months with its owner. It was unfamiliar because it had undergone a qualitative transformation—it was denser, heavier, and far more dangerous than before.

Qin Lu’s face lit up with genuine joy. He strode quickly toward the door.