Spells Grinding: From Basic Sparks to Divine Arts

Chapter 229: Returning to the Old Place

The scorching sun hung high, a relentless eye in a cloudless, ten-thousand-li sky.

Below, a square walled city sat upon the plains like a scar. The walls, once a uniform greyish-white brick, were now patched and uneven. Sections had been crudely repaired with mismatched black stone, giving the fortification a diseased appearance.

Surrounding the walls was a sprawling shantytown of self-built huts. The air was thick with the stench of urine and rot, the roads churned into foul mud. It was a picture of utter destitution.

“Ah…”

Qin Lu sighed, emotion flickering across his face.

Wuji Market.

Or rather, what was left of it.

It had been over a year and seven months since he fled this place. A short time for a cultivator, but long enough for the world to change completely.

He didn’t land immediately. Instead, he activated the [Disguise Technique], molding his features into the fierce, bearded visage of Li Kui—the “Black Whirlwind.” Then, he used the [Aura Concealment Technique] to suppress his cultivation to the late stage of Qi Condensation.

He had been a minor celebrity here once. Returning as a Foundation Establishment expert would draw too much attention. Better to be just another face in the crowd.

Qin Lu landed in an inconspicuous patch of wilderness and walked toward the gates.

The area was teeming with low-level Loose Cultivators in tattered robes, digging for herbs or chopping wood. Their faces were gaunt, their eyes desperate.

“Compared to White Jade Market, this place is hell,” Qin Lu thought. “The cultivators here aren’t living; they’re surviving.”

He reached the gate. It was unmanned, the guards long gone. But the sign above the archway stopped him.

The characters for “Wuji Market” had been chiseled away. In their place, bold strokes proclaimed a new name:

Dragon Tiger Market.

“The place remains, but the masters change,” Qin Lu murmured.

He joined the flow of people and entered the main street. It was bustling, noisy, and chaotic—superficially the same as before. But Qin Lu noticed the details.

Almost every shop had changed its name. The flags of the old ruling families were gone, replaced by the sigils of the Dragon Tiger Sect and their vassals. The four major powers that had once dominated this city had vanished into history.

“Li Qingdu was ruthless,” Qin Lu mused. “He likely purged the old Foundation Establishment families to consolidate power.”

He recalled reading in the Immortal Sect Monthly Report that Li Qingdu, the tyrant of Wuji, had eventually escaped capture thanks to a mysterious benefactor. The man clearly had secrets.

Qin Lu shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He wasn’t here for nostalgia. He was here for profit.

He stopped in front of a talisman shop. The entrance was grand, four zhang high, with bells chiming in the wind.

Sky Book Pavilion.

“Even the name survived,” Qin Lu noted. This was the shop where he had made his first real sale, the place that had lifted him out of poverty. He remembered Manager Yan, the shrewd but fair old man who had treated him well.

Qin Lu stepped inside, adopting Li Kui’s boorish persona.

“I’m here to sell Talismans!” he roared.

A pretty attendant hurried over, her smile practiced and polite. “Of course, esteemed guest. Please come this way.”

Qin Lu paused. “Hey! Is that old fellow Yan Xiao still around?”

The attendant blinked, confused. “Yan Xiao…? I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“Oh.”

Qin Lu nodded, feigning annoyance, but internally he felt a pang of sadness.

He had expected this. In the chaos of the sect war, few would have survived. Neighbors, creditors, rivals, friends—all likely crushed under the wheels of history.

He followed the attendant into a private room.

The transaction went smoothly. Qin Lu offloaded a batch of offensive Talismans looted from the evil cultivators.

He had chosen this market deliberately. White Jade Market was still recovering, and prices for combat items were depressed. But here, in a border town constantly on edge, weapons and talismans commanded a premium. He made a tidy profit.

Leaving the Sky Book Pavilion, he visited the largest Magical Artifact shop and repeated the process, liquidating the surplus gear. No one provoked him; no arrogant young masters challenged him. It was just business.

Pockets heavy with Spirit Stones, Qin Lu headed for the exit. He had no desire to stay overnight in this graveyard of memories.

He walked out of the city, summoned his flying artifact, and ascended into the sky.

Just as he relaxed, thinking his detour was over, the sound of combat erupted from the ground below.

Clang! Boom!

“We knew you’d come back! Ambush!” “Hehe! You die today, kid!” “Let’s see if the ‘genius’ can survive this!” “Come on then! All of you, come and die!”

Qin Lu slowed, his brow furrowing.

He knew that voice.

It was familiar. Painfully familiar.

He turned his head, his gaze piercing through the clouds to the battle below.

It was him.