Rebirth as a Demonic Cultivator: Starting with a Zombie Planet

Chapter 8: Are These Fruits Guaranteed to Be Ripe?

Chu Xuan’s ears twitched. He cast a sidelong glance at a nearby table where two Qi Condensation cultivators sat across from one another.

“…Fellow Daoist, are there any new bounties posted in Taiping Market?” the gaunt cultivator asked, his voice hushed. “Things are tight lately. I’m in desperate need of Spirit Stones.”

“There are,” his burly companion replied. “The Shengang Sect is hunting down the remnants of the Wuji Sect. Finding just one nets you three hundred small Spirit Stones. Oh, and Senior Sun of the Shengang Sect put out a special notice. If anyone locates that specific Qi Condensation brat from the Wuji Sect—Chu Xuan—the reward jumps to four hundred.”

“They still haven’t caught him? It’s been six days.”

“The kid is as slippery as a loach. Senior Sun personally led a squad of Qi Condensation disciples to surround him, and the little rat still slipped through their fingers.”

“I heard he’s only at the fourth level of Qi Condensation. If I caught him one-on-one, I’d crush him like a bug.”

“Don’t get cocky. Word is that while Chu Xuan’s natural aptitude is garbage, he’s an Expert in poison and gu insects. Two fifth-level Qi Condensation cultivators from the Shengang Sect have already died by his hand.”

“…On second thought, I’ll look for a different bounty. This guy sounds like too much trouble.”

“Tch. Just admit you’re afraid of dying.”

The gaunt cultivator’s face flushed a violent red, veins bulging against his forehead. “Nonsense! Only the living can tread the great path of Cultivation! When it comes to the affairs of cultivators, how can it be called ‘fear of death’?”

He launched into a flurry of defensive, incomprehensible jargon, muttering about the “Great Dao of Self-Preservation” and “seeking fortune while avoiding calamity.”

The burly cultivator burst into laughter, and a cheerful atmosphere settled over the teahouse.

Listening in, Chu Xuan’s expression turned utterly bizarre.

Six days. He had killed He Liang and broken through the Shengang Sect’s encirclement a mere six days ago in this world.

Doing the mental math, the time dilation between the Cangxuan Heaven and Earth and the apocalyptic zombie planet was roughly one to ten.

Which meant, from the perspective of the cultivators here, he had skyrocketed from the fourth to the sixth level of Qi Condensation in less than a week. In their eyes, he was a peerless Cultivation prodigy. Even drowning himself in medicinal baths every hour of the day couldn’t produce such terrifying speed.

The Blood Mirror is truly a magnificent treasure.

Chu Xuan took a long, satisfying sip of his tea, a cold smile playing on his lips.

***

Two more days passed.

Chu Xuan meticulously mapped out every inch of Taiping Market. He made sure his disguised face became a familiar, unthreatening sight to the local stall owners.

Only after establishing this baseline did he approach one of the larger commercial establishments: the Hundred Herbs Pavilion, a shop specializing in spirit plants. After ruthlessly comparing prices across three different stores, he concluded this pavilion offered the best return on investment.

He emerged a short while later, thoroughly satisfied. He had purchased a massive bulk of Spirit Grass seeds. Hidden among the mundane agricultural supplies were the specific, grisly materials required for corpse refinement.

The shopkeeper, thrilled by the large transaction, had even thrown in a few complimentary gifts. Chu Xuan found it mildly amusing; if the merchant knew he was eagerly supplying a Demonic Cultivator, the man would likely have a heart attack and demand the goods back.

With his inventory stocked, Chu Xuan navigated the winding alleys until he reached a remarkably unremarkable street stall.

Setting up shop in the market was a primitive affair. Most simply threw a ragged cloth over the dirt and dumped their wares on top. The slightly more ambitious ones might carve prices into a wooden plank.

The junk scattered across this particular stall wasn’t just common; it was absolute garbage. Nothing caught Chu Xuan’s eye—except for a single, withered stalk of white flora.

Bone-Withering Grass.

This specific Spirit Grass demanded an incredibly harsh growing environment. It only grew in abundance within the Wuji Sect’s Bone Burial Cave. The moment it was uprooted and exposed to foreign soil, it withered.

When the Wuji Sect fell and its surviving disciples scattered to the winds, Chu Xuan had established a set of secret signals and physical tokens with a few of his more useful acquaintances to maintain contact.

The Bone-Withering Grass was one of those tokens.

Chu Xuan strolled up to the stall and crouched down. He idly picked up a random trinket, inspected it, and tossed it back, before picking up another.

The stall owner, a cultivator with a weathered, mature face, quickly lost his patience. “Buy it or get lost. Stop putting your grubby hands on my merchandise.”

Chu Xuan picked up a shriveled fruit and offered a polite, utterly fake smile. “Brother, how much for one of these Chiyan Fruits?”

“Two small Spirit Stones a piece,” the owner grunted dismissively.

Chu Xuan’s smile widened a fraction. “Is the peel made of gold, or is the flesh made of gold?”

The stall owner blinked, taken aback by the sheer audacity. He shook his head. “Where the hell are you going to find Chiyan Fruits these days? I scavenged these from the ruins after the Wuji Sect was wiped out. You think they’re expensive? I think they’re expensive too.”

Chu Xuan’s smile turned dangerously cheerful. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a deadpan, loaded register. “Tell me… are these fruits guaranteed to be ripe?”

A flash of recognition lit up the stall owner’s eyes. “These are just average quality,” he replied smoothly. “If you’re willing to pay a premium, I have the good stuff stashed elsewhere.”

Chu Xuan nodded. “Perfect. Lead the way.”

The owner swiftly bundled up his tattered cloth, tossed the entire lot into his Storage Bag, and gestured for Chu Xuan to follow. As they walked, Chu Xuan kept his expression placid, but his senses were dialed to the absolute maximum, scanning the crowds and rooftops for any sign of an ambush.

The pair wove through the market and eventually slipped into a secluded, heavily shaded grove on the outskirts of town.

The weathered cultivator stopped and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “Which Senior Brother is it?”

“He Liang,” Chu Xuan replied calmly.

The man stiffened, his hand drifting toward his waist. “He Liang? That traitor died a long time ago.”

The tension bled out of Chu Xuan’s shoulders. The countersign was correct. He nodded. “Chu Xuan.”

The older-looking cultivator’s eyes widened in sheer relief. “Senior Brother Chu! Is it really you?”

Chu Xuan gave a curt nod. “And you are?”

The man took a shaky breath, shedding his hardened merchant persona. “Chen Ge! I entered the Wuji Sect in the same batch as you!”

“Senior Brother Wei Hua taught me the token and the passphrase.” Chu Xuan nodded in understanding. Wei Hua was ranked twelfth among the inner disciples and was one of the few people Chu Xuan actually tolerated.

“What is Wei Hua’s current status?” Chu Xuan asked, his tone strictly business.

“Senior Brother Wei is still recovering from his injuries,” Chen Ge whispered. “He, Uncle-Master Liu, and the rest of the survivors are holed up at the Wu Family estate.”

Chu Xuan let out a low, cynical chuckle. Among the Foundation Establishment experts of the Wuji Sect, there was only one man surnamed Liu: Liu Zhenxiong.

He hadn’t expected the remnants of his sect to brazenly take up residence within the Wu Family. No wonder the Shengang Sect’s hounds were running in circles. They would never suspect that the perfect sanctuary for a cabal of Demonic Cultivators was hidden right under their self-righteous noses.

Chen Ge looked at him earnestly. “Senior Brother Chu, you should come with us. The surviving Wuji Sect cultivators need to band together if we want to survive this purge.”

Chu Xuan shook his head, instantly rejecting the idea. “A large group is a large target. I work better alone. I’m only here to procure some supplies.”

Chen Ge couldn’t hide his disappointment, but he nodded in understanding. “What do you need, Senior Brother?”

“The Blood Transformation Great Array.”

Chen Ge gaped at him. “The Blood Transformation Great Array? What do you need that for? The five righteous sects have locked down the region. They’re strictly investigating any mass slaughter of mortals. The second you activate an array like that, the spiritual disturbance will bring righteous cultivators crashing down on your head.”

Chu Xuan merely offered a thin, unbothered smile. “Do you have it or not?”

Chen Ge swallowed hard and nodded. “I remember Senior Brother Wei having a set. It’ll cost one mid-grade Spirit Stone. How about this—wait for me outside the Wu Family estate, and I’ll fetch it for you.”

Chu Xuan gave a slight nod of approval.

The two resumed their staggered formation, eventually arriving at the outskirts of the Wu Family’s territory.

The estate was nestled within a valley practically overflowing with Spiritual Qi. With towering manors every five steps and ornate pavilions every ten, it was less of a family compound and more of an independent kingdom.

Chu Xuan kept his distance, refusing to step foot within the estate’s perimeter. He retrieved a Low Grade Storage Bag and tossed it to Chen Ge.

“There is one mid-grade Spirit Stone inside to cover the Blood Transformation Great Array. I’ve also included thirty Blood Beads. Liquidate them into Spirit Stones for me at the standard market rate.”

Chen Ge caught the bag, his eyes lighting up with genuine surprise. “Perfect! We’re actually in desperate need of Blood Beads right now!” He secured the bag to his belt. “I’ll have to trouble Senior Brother to wait here for just a moment. I’ll be right back.”

With that, he turned and sprinted into the depths of the Wu Family estate.