Han Yu frowned as the portly, bare-chested man cornered him. “May I ask, Fellow Daoist, what exactly are you selling?”

“Everything!” the fat man boasted with a jovial grin. “Just name your price. I’ll do my utmost to find whatever satisfies you. Magical Artifacts, Talismans, pills, cultivation techniques, secret arts, spells—if you want it, just speak the word.”

While the man spoke, his eyes were sharp and predatory. He scrutinized Han Yu’s grey Laborer Disciple robes, his posture, and even the callouses on his hands, gauging the absolute maximum value he could squeeze out of the boy.

Han Yu felt no desire to linger. The man wore the same grey cloth; he was likely just another Laborer Disciple.

A man who hadn’t even earned an Outer Disciple’s green robes, standing in the dirt of the bamboo stalls to solicit customers, was likely at the third layer of Qi Refining at best. What could such a person possibly offer?

To say he sold “everything” was to Brag Wildly. If he were truly capable, customers would be hunting him down, not the other way around.

Han Yu turned away without a word, heading toward the other stalls.

“Eh? Fellow Daoist, why the rush? If you need something, just say it!”

“Talk to me, and I can find a way! Hey, Fellow Daoist…”

The fat man scurried after him, calling out incessantly.

Han Yu waved him off and came to a halt before the stall of a young woman in crimson robes. She released the white Spirit Dog she had been cradling, her eyes curving like crescent moons as she let out a string of silvery laughter.

“Hehe! Pig Old Three, exposed again, were you? With those Trifling Scraps you call a ‘stock,’ you still dare to Brag Wildly?”

She wasn’t looking at Han Yu, but at the panting fat man behind him.

The man, “Pig Old Three,” didn’t take offense. “These people judge only by appearances. They don’t know who I, Zhu San, am. Can a Laborer Disciple from the Alchemy Hall be compared to those common drudges?”

He puffed out his chest. “If the senior brothers and sisters let even a speck of dust leak from their fingers, it’s a treasure these fools couldn’t get if they knelt and kowtowed for a lifetime!”

With a huff of feigned indignation, Pig Old Three returned to his spot and resumed his slovenly, grinning vigil over the passing crowd.

The girl in crimson giggled, clearly unimpressed. She didn’t bother explaining anything to Han Yu. Instead, she reached down to scratch her Spirit Dog’s chin, making the beast squint in contentment.

“Looking for Moon Gazing Herb?” she asked.

“What is its use?” Han Yu inquired politely.

The girl shook her head. “If you don’t even know its use, you clearly aren’t from the Alchemy Hall or the Medicine Garden. It would be useless to you. No need to ask further.”

She turned her back on him, returning her attention to her pet.

Han Yu realized then that in this market, stall owners wouldn’t waste their Spirit Breath explaining basics to the uninitiated. If you didn’t know what you were looking at, you weren’t worth their time.

He continued through the stalls.

Spirit Rice for Spirit Stones: 4.6 jin for 1 stone, one sign read.

This was likely a laborer from the Spirit Field Department looking for liquid currency. The rates fluctuated based on desperation. Since Spirit Rice was hard-earned, every ounce was weighed with agonizing precision.

Further down, a sign caught his eye: Spirit Rice for Qi Condensation Pills.

Han Yu paused. He had heard of these pills—they were essential for refining Spirit Breath and accelerating cultivation. Many Outer Disciples lived on them, but for a laborer, they were a rare luxury.

By the time he finished his circuit of the bamboo sheds, he had a grasp of the local economy. Prices were a battlefield of negotiation.

Roughly five jin of Spirit Rice equaled one Spirit Stone. That same stone could buy one Qi Condensation Pill, three Wind Riding Talismans, or a single Wind Blade Talisman.

This was the “Laborer Tier.” Anything of higher quality was found only in the central shops.

He saw people selling Spirit Blood Vine and common herbs, but not a single Mystic Heart Fruit. Even the girl’s Moon Gazing Herb was likely a low-tier plant.

As for the techniques and Magical Artifacts sold here, they were mostly trash—incomplete scrolls and cracked tools that would only lead to regret.

Despite the lack of a purchase, Han Yu felt his horizons broaden. He finally saw the ladder of resources he needed to climb.

“So? Found nothing to buy?”

Pig Old Three had crept up again, his smile as wide as ever.

“I want cultivation pills,” Han Yu said, testing him. “I want Talismans and Magical Artifacts for protection. I want powerful spells. Do you truly have all of that?”

The fat man chuckled. “What a coincidence! I actually do!”

“Cultivation pills? I have Qi Condensation Pills. Three jin of Spirit Rice per pill, or one Spirit Stone for two.”

Han Yu was stunned. “What? Why so cheap?”

“Minor flaws,” Pig Old Three whispered, winking. “Practice batches from the seniors. The efficacy is mostly there—at least until the sixth layer of Qi Refining. Think about it, Fellow Daoist. Don’t we laborers just want to reach the Outer Sect and finally hold our heads high? These are the pragmatic choice!”

Han Yu went cold. A “flawed” pill that could ruin one’s future foundations? It was like eating dirt to stop the hunger today, only to die of a blocked gut tomorrow.

“And the Talismans?” Han Yu asked.

“Cheap and reliable! They’ll give you thirty percent of their intended power. Better than nothing, right?” Pig Old Three’s smile was both sincere and oily.

“The Magical Artifacts?”

“They’ll last for at least two uses. That’s plenty for a scrap!”

“The techniques?”

“They’ll get you to the fifth layer. After that, you’re on your own to find the rest.”

Han Yu was speechless. “Fellow Daoist… where do you find such a mountain of garbage? It must have been a lot of work.”

“No trouble at all, no trouble! It’s my pleasure,” Pig Old Three replied earnestly.

Han Yu stared. I wasn’t complimenting you.

Nearby, the girl in crimson burst into laughter. “Pig Old Three, stop holding back! Why don’t you show this Fellow Daoist that ‘secret art’ you’ve been hiding at the bottom of your chest?”