“Cultivation chambers? Built directly on a Spirit Vein?”

Wang Ba’s interest was instantly piqued.

Seeing the hook sink in, the old woman’s grin widened, revealing yellowed teeth. She gestured eagerly toward the other side of the market. “Fellow Daoist, just follow me. You’ll understand once you see it!”

Curiosity getting the better of him—and knowing he only had a single Spirit Stone left to lose—Wang Ba decided to follow.

However, after a short walk, he stopped in his tracks, stunned.

The location she had brought him to was the ruins of South Lake Village.

On the night the Eastern Sage Sect fell, South Lake Village, sitting right on the border, had been the first to be razed by the Heavenly Gate Sect.

Now, the landscape was unrecognizable. If not for his intimate knowledge of the terrain, Wang Ba wouldn’t have known where he was.

The low, humble cottages of the mortal villagers were gone. In their place stood a bizarre, artificially created stone mountain that rose abruptly from the ground.

The face of the mountain had been carved out, riddled with hundreds of tiny, dark holes—doors and windows packed so densely they looked like pigeon cages.

Below the stone mountain sat rows of cramped, interconnected wooden pavilions. They were jammed together like crooked teeth. Faint sounds of water splashing and the melodic, teasing laughter of women drifted from within, carrying a scent of rouge and powder.

Further away, separated by a distinct gap, stood a cluster of spacious, luxurious courtyards. They were brand new, radiating an aura of exclusivity.

The old woman steered Wang Ba straight toward the wooden pavilions in the center.

Wang Ba, whose pockets were lighter than air, quickly grabbed her sleeve. “Fellow Daoist…”

“Please, call me Long’er, or Fellow Daoist Long,” the old woman said with a deeply creased smile.

Wang Ba’s mouth twitched. “Fellow Daoist Long… ahem. Dare I ask, where exactly are we going?”

The old woman didn’t stop walking. “We can talk as we move. You must know that recently, a Foundation Establishment True Cultivator from our sect went through great trouble to redirect a Top-Grade First-Rank Spirit Vein to this very spot. They even used a ‘Mountain Moving Talisman’ to create this holy land for us Left-Path cultivators.”

Wang Ba had no choice but to keep up, though he couldn’t hide his surprise.

He had been holed up by the lake, oblivious to the massive terraforming project just down the road.

A Top-Grade Spirit Vein.

His heart skipped a beat. Just an hour in a High-Grade room had been intoxicating. He couldn’t imagine the ecstasy of cultivating atop a Top-Grade vein.

But reality crashed back in an instant. The High-Grade room cost 30 Spirit Stones an hour. This place would be astronomical.

He kept his face neutral. “The price here can’t be cheap.”

“Naturally!” Fellow Daoist Long cackled. “The ‘Stone Residence’—those pigeon holes on the mountain—are affordable. The Spiritual Qi is thin there, costing only two Spirit Stones a month. But these wooden pavilions? Twenty stones a month.”

She pointed a gnarled finger toward the luxurious houses. “And those ‘Spirit Water Courtyards’ on the right? That is a true treasure land. Half of the Spirit Vein’s output is funneled there. But the price… even a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator might struggle to afford it.”

She turned to him, her eyes gleaming. “But since Fellow Daoist was willing to spend big at the market’s cultivation center, surely you can afford a mere twenty stones.”

“Fellow Daoist Long is joking,” Wang Ba waved his hand, his guard raising a notch.

The old woman ignored his deflection. She stopped in front of a wooden building painted with peeling vermilion lacquer. She pointed a finger. “This is the place!”

Before Wang Ba could ask what “place” she meant, the door swung open.

A wave of heavy, cloying perfume rolled out, hitting him before the person did.

Inside Wang Ba’s consciousness, the Yin Spirit Abode suddenly vibrated.

His Yin Spirit Power stirred—sluggishly, but unmistakably.

Wang Ba’s eyes sharpened instantly. Since becoming a cultivator, his Yin Spirit rarely reacted on its own. The last time it had moved like this was when that patrolman tried to use a mind-confusing spell on him.

A female cultivator stepped out. She was dressed in flimsy, revealing robes that did little to hide her curves, though the heavy makeup couldn’t quite conceal the fine lines of age around her eyes. She swayed her hips exaggeratedly, her smile practiced and predatory.

“Fellow Daoist~” Her voice was a sultry purr. “For just two Spirit Stones, you can spend a night in this holy land… exploring the mysteries of cultivation with Yue’e.”

She leaned against the doorframe, posing.

To her shock, the little cultivator didn’t blush, drool, or stammer. He looked at her with the dead, flat eyes of a fish.

“Fellow Daoist,” Wang Ba said, his voice devoid of emotion. “The weather is cold. You should put on some clothes, lest you catch a chill.”

The woman’s smile froze. Her expression twisted into a mask of scorn. She snorted coldly, turned on her heel, and stomped back inside, slamming the door.

Wang Ba turned to look at the old woman.

Fellow Daoist Long didn’t miss a beat. She slapped her forehead, laughing awkwardly. “Hehe! This old woman’s memory is failing. Wrong room, wrong room! It’s not this one!”

Wang Ba narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

At that moment, the door to the adjacent room creaked open.

A young male cultivator stumbled out. His face was waxen and pale, his steps unsteady. He looked like a man who had been drained of his very essence. Before leaving, he reached back to grope the person inside one last time.

“Oh, you’re so annoying!” a female voice giggled from within.

“Heh… to think a phoenix like you fell into this nest…” the youth slurred, his eyes glazed and unfocused. “Wait for me. Once I save enough Spirit Stones, I will definitely return to… jointly comprehend the Great Dao with you!”

He drifted away, looking back every three steps, his soul seemingly hooked on whatever was inside that room.

Wang Ba felt a chill run down his spine.

Even with his mediocre cultivation, he could see the signs. That youth’s mind had been clouded, his vitality harvested. He wasn’t just losing money; he was losing his life force.

If not for the warning from his Yin Spirit, Wang Ba—a man with healthy, normal desires—might have walked right into the trap.

This “Fellow Daoist Long” wasn’t a real estate agent. She was a pimp for a Succubus den.

Wang Ba didn’t waste a single breath. He turned and walked away, his stride long and purposeful.

“Fellow Daoist! Fellow Daoist, don’t go!”

Long’er wasn’t ready to give up her commission. She scrambled after him, her voice dripping with desperate sycophancy.

“I misjudged! I thought you were like those weak-willed fools! But if you truly want to live in these wooden pavilions, I have a special deal!”

She saw him pause slightly and pounced.

“There is a room on the seventh floor,” she whispered conspiratorially, closing the distance. “A female cultivator of peerless beauty. She recently lost her husband and can’t afford the rent. she is looking for a righteous cultivator to share the room… split the cost, share the bed… warm and cozy…”

Wang Ba didn’t even let her finish. He accelerated, walking away as if she carried the plague.

The old woman stood there, mouth agape, watching his back disappear into the crowd.

She slapped her own cheek in frustration.

“It was right at my lips…” she hissed. “A total loss! A total loss!”

Wang Ba escaped the wooden pavilion district, his heart still beating a little fast.

He felt a twinge of regret.

Honestly, if she had led with the “roommate wanted” pitch—and if it had been a legitimate rental situation—he might have considered it. He spent his days at the farm and only needed a place to cultivate at night. Splitting the rent with a quiet widow would have been cost-effective.

But the moment he realized they were using “cultivation” as a cover for soul-sapping prostitution, he lost all trust.

In this world, if something sounded too good to be true, it was usually a trap that would leave you dead or worse.

As a laborer, he had been a leaf in a hurricane—helpless. Now, as a cultivator, he was a small fish in a river. The current was still strong, but at least he could choose to swim away from the nets.

He circled back to the “Stone Cave Residence”—the pigeon cages.

He paid the deposit and inspected a room. The Spiritual Qi was disappointing. It was only two or three times denser than the air at his chicken farm.

It was better than nothing, but hardly a “Holy Land.”

However, for two Spirit Stones a month, it was fair. He paid one stone as a deposit, deciding to rent it for a month as a trial.

As he walked out of the Stone caves, preparing to return to the farm, he bumped into a familiar figure.

“Lin Yu?”

She was no longer wearing the white robes of the Eastern Sage Sect. Instead, she was dressed in the red-and-black long skirt of a Heavenly Gate Sect disciple.

Her complexion was rosy, glowing with health and vitality—a stark contrast to the terror-stricken girl he had last seen.

She was exiting one of the luxurious Spirit Water Courtyards.

Spotting Wang Ba, Lin Yu froze for a second. Then, her face lit up with genuine surprise and joy.

She checked her surroundings cautiously before circulating her Spiritual Power and rushing over to him.

As she approached, Wang Ba sensed her aura. He was startled.

In just over a month, her cultivation had surged. She felt like she was already at the fourth layer of Qi Refining.

“Wang Ba! What are you doing here?” Lin Yu asked, her smile sincere.

After the catastrophe of the sect’s destruction, seeing a face from home was a comfort beyond words. Despite their past friction, they were survivors of the same shipwreck.

Wang Ba felt a similar warmth. He briefly explained that he had gained the favor of a sect deacon and was assigned to manage a chicken farm.

Lin Yu’s eyes went round.

“Raising chickens?!”

“Isn’t that work for… well, I don’t mean to offend you.” She frowned, lowering her voice. “But you have a Hidden Spirit Root! For them to waste your talent on manual labor… it’s a reckless waste of heaven’s gifts!”

Wang Ba didn’t know how to respond. He actually liked raising chickens. It was quiet, low-profile, and—thanks to his discoveries—potentially very profitable.

He deflected with a smile. “And you? That day, I thought you were…”

“Thought I was dead?” Lin Yu laughed, a bright, clear sound. “I thought so too.”

Her smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of lingering fear mixed with luck.

“I was captured by a Tenth Layer Qi Refining cultivator. He planned to sell me to the Profound Puppet Path to be made into a living puppet. But… he checked my aptitude and decided it was ‘passable.’ He said it would be a pity to waste me on puppetry, so he took me as a disciple instead.”

“I haven’t officially joined the Heavenly Gate Sect yet. My Master said he will help me apply once I reach the late stages of Qi Refining.”

“I suppose I met a rare good person among the demons,” she sighed.

Wang Ba nodded, genuinely happy for her. In a world this cruel, her survival was a miracle.

Lin Yu looked him up and down, an idea suddenly striking her.

“Right! You have a Hidden Spirit Root! Your aptitude must be excellent. How about I ask my Master to take you in as well? He listens to me…”

Wang Ba waved his hands frantically, cold sweat forming on his back.

Joke of the century. My aptitude is trash. If a high-level cultivator checks me, I’m exposed.

“No, no, no! I’m fine! Really!”

Lin Yu opened her mouth to argue, but suddenly cocked her head, as if listening to a voice transmission.

Her expression turned apologetic.

“Wang Ba, my Master is calling me for something urgent. I have to go.”

“Go! Don’t keep him waiting!” Wang Ba urged.

“Come find me when you have time! I live at Spirit Water Courtyard Number Seventeen!”

“I will!”

Wang Ba watched her hurry away, her red skirt fluttering like a flame.

He stood there for a moment, savoring the brief human connection, before turning back toward the outskirts.

He hurried back to the chicken farm.

But as the wooden fence came into view, he slowed down.

From a distance, he could see shadowy figures moving around the perimeter of his farm.