Within Wuji Market, joining one of the four major factions meant a life free from worries about food and clothing, a rise in social status, and earning the respect of others.

This was the dream of many low-level Loose Cultivators.

If Qin Lu, fresh from his transmigration, had received such an invitation, he would have accepted without a moment’s hesitation.

Those slum thugs, the gambling den enforcers, the shopkeepers—even if Qin Lu never repaid the Spirit Stones he owed them, they wouldn’t dare utter a single word of complaint.

But now, Qin Lu had no reason to join.

He possessed a specialized skill, he wasn’t lacking in Spirit Stones, and his past grudges were long resolved.

Most importantly, he had the attribute panel. As long as he grinded proficiency, he could improve his own abilities indefinitely. Joining the Xuanyang Sect would only restrict him.

Given all that, it was better to simply refuse.

Qin Lu’s refusal caused the surrounding neighbors to be momentarily stunned. However, they quickly regained their composure and resumed their congratulations and flattery.

Lu Anchen didn’t press the matter. With a slight smile, he continued with his parents to offer toasts at other tables.

And so, everyone drank and celebrated, passing cups and goblets until late in the night. The atmosphere was extremely lively, and everyone returned home thoroughly satisfied.

Several days later.

The large caravan that many had been eagerly anticipating finally arrived.

This was considered a grand event that only occurred once every year or two, attracting numerous cultivators who came out to watch.

On the outskirts of the market, the Wuji Sect had designated a large open area for the caravan to set up camp. A dense crowd of cultivators lined both sides of the trade route, chatting and laughing as they waited.

Qin Lu had brought Zhang Meng and her son here early in the morning. They had secured a good vantage point on a small hillside to the left.

“It seems they’ll be testing spiritual roots here later…” Zhang Meng said in a low voice.

“Hmm, they’ve already transported the Spirit Testing Stone over. It should be here.”

Qin Lu nodded slightly, his gaze shifting to the center of the open area.

There stood an irregular black boulder over two meters tall, its entire body emitting a faint glow of spiritual energy. It was the Spirit Testing Stone.

In front of the stone stood over twenty cultivators dressed in the blue robes of the Wuji Sect.

These were the managers of Wuji Market, led by none other than Li Qingdu.

Among them, Qin Lu spotted several familiar faces: Liu Xiangshi, who used to collect rent in The Slums; Zhao Yan, who now collected rent for their courtyard; the sword-wielding cultivator he had seen at the theater; and the patrol team member who had once checked his identity.

All of them were outer disciples of the Wuji Sect, gathered here to welcome their Senior Uncle Zheng.

“They’re coming! They’re coming!”

With excited shouts from the crowd, the long-awaited caravan finally appeared on the distant plains.

Zhang Meng stood on her tiptoes for a better look. “There are even more people this time than last,” she said with a smile. “It’s going to be quite lively.”

Qin Lu looked up. The approaching procession numbered nearly two thousand people, advancing slowly but steadily in a grand formation.

As the caravan drew closer, the mortals within noticed the massive crowd gathered on the hillsides. Immediately, excited shouts arose from their ranks, mingled with the sound of weeping.

They gradually drew nearer.

The mortals in the caravan wore expressions of curiosity, scrutinizing the cultivators lining the hillsides. This was a procession composed of people from every social stratum.

At the very front were noble scions riding in luxurious carriages—princes, princesses, and heirs from mortal dynasties. They brought the most belongings and were accompanied by numerous maidservants and guards.

In the middle were people of all sorts: chivalrous heroes, elegant scholars, wealthy young masters, swordsmen, rural hunters, and carefree youths. They traveled by ox-cart, on horseback, or simply on foot. Their eyes shone with hope and anticipation.

Bringing up the rear were numerous horse-drawn carts loaded with goods. Alongside them walked several hundred youths with sallow complexions and emaciated frames. Dressed in rags, their hands bound by ropes, they walked with vacant, lifeless eyes.

“Whoa! There are quite a few this time! At least several hundred mortal slaves!”

“Indeed! Heh heh, if the price is right, I might buy one myself to serve me at home!”

“Haha! You old rascal! Don’t ruin someone else’s life! Your family is as poor as can be! If you buy a mortal, you’ll probably starve them to death!”

“Bah! You’re talking nonsense!”

“Hey, hey! Look at that kid over there! He has such an arrogant look in his eyes! Does he still think this is his family’s dynasty?”

“And that swordsman too! Haha! They’re all just a bunch of country bumpkins! They need to be taught a lesson so they understand there’s always someone better!”

As the caravan drew near, the Wuji Market cultivators on the high ground pointed fingers and chattered incessantly, their laughter echoing across the valley.

Down below, however, most mortals wore expressions of excitement. Their eyes were filled with longing.

This was a blessed land where immortals resided! These people lining both sides were immortals capable of riding clouds and mist!

Only… why did these Immortal Lords look no different from ordinary people? They even seemed a bit… shabby?

Whoosh!

A sudden sound of something cutting through the air echoed from above.

A blue figure descended directly before Li Qingdu.

It was a middle-aged female cultivator who appeared to be around forty. She possessed an enchanting figure, her features delicate yet transcendentally beautiful.

“Senior Sister Zheng!”

Upon seeing her arrival, Li Qingdu was the first to cup his hands respectfully.

“Greetings, Senior Uncle Zheng!”

The twenty-plus blue-robed cultivators immediately bowed deeply in unison.

“Junior Brother Li, there is no need for such formality!” The middle-aged female cultivator smiled slightly. “This journey, I encountered quite a few mortals who caught my eye, so I simply brought them all along. With just these few thousand people, it won’t disrupt Junior Brother’s arrangements, will it?”

“What are you saying, Senior Sister Zheng? For merely several thousand people, I will definitely arrange everything properly!” Li Qingdu replied with a relaxed smile.

“That’s good then! Traveling with me are also over two hundred low-level Loose Cultivators. They should inject some vitality into the market!”

“Thank you for your hard work, Senior Sister!”

The two Wuji Sect Foundation Establishment cultivators stood within the open area discussing matters. Soon, specific arrangements were settled.

After several orders were issued, the blue-robed cultivators immediately busied themselves.

“Fellow Daoists who have already guided spiritual energy into your bodies, please follow me! I will lead you into the market to find accommodations!”

“Those acquainted with other cultivators within the market may leave on your own!”

“Fellow Daoists from other sects, please proceed to the banquet hall. We have prepared a feast!”

“Mortals visiting the market, please line up in an orderly queue! Spiritual root testing will be conducted uniformly here!”

The blue-robed cultivators began handling affairs, dispersing the nearly two thousand-strong procession and separating them into groups.

Some led Loose Cultivators toward The Slums, others received mundane goods, while others took charge of the mortal slaves. The rest prepared the mortals for spiritual root testing.

It was a chaotic, busy scene.

Meanwhile, numerous Loose Cultivators on the hillsides watched merrily, enjoying the spectacle.

Zhang Meng, observing the chaotic mortal procession below, suddenly spoke. “They should line up there for testing. I’ll take Ziyun over first!”

“Go ahead!” Qin Lu nodded.

Zhang Meng, holding Xiao Ziyun’s hand, descended the hillside, heading toward the queue of mortals waiting for the test.

Qin Lu remained standing, watching Zhang Meng and her son recede into the distance. His heart beat faster.

If Xiao Ziyun lacked spiritual roots, what choice would he make?

Remain within the market?

Or… leave?