Chapter Thirty-Six: The Might of Foundation Establishment (Happy New Year)

It was precisely because of the existence of this seal that Master Chengshan adopted the Daoist name Chengshan. This was the famed artifact he had spent years refining! The Green Mountain Seal flew from his hand, spinning in midair, and swiftly expanded to an enormous size. What had once been a miniature mountain that could fit in the palm transformed into a massive boulder several yards tall!

Such a gigantic green stone seal, if smashed down with even a modicum of force, would unleash unimaginable power. Now, wielded by a Foundation Establishment master and bolstered by his cultivation, its might was naturally beyond measure.

Before the Green Mountain Seal descended, He Song saw a group of black-clad cultivators, panic-stricken, fleeing for their lives from the outskirts of the Immortal Market, desperately rushing beyond its boundaries. These fugitives were the evil cultivators who had previously battled the law enforcement team. Perhaps their information was inaccurate, or perhaps their greed had gotten the better of them; despite having rampaged through the Immortal Market for days, they still dared linger here.

Yet, judging by their numbers, He Song frowned. There were too few of them—barely a dozen. Such a small group should not have posed such a grave threat to the law enforcement team.

Doubt gnawed at his heart, but He Song’s expression remained unchanged. He did not so much as blink, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the Green Mountain Seal hovering in midair. This was his first time witnessing a Foundation Establishment master in action. Having never left Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market, he had never even seen a late-stage Qi cultivator unleash their full power.

Now that he had the opportunity, he meant to broaden his horizons.

Under the watchful eyes of countless cultivators like He Song, the Green Mountain Seal, which had been floating in the air, moved at last. Not heavy and lumbering as He Song had imagined, the titanic seal shot forth like lightning, propelled by Master Chengshan’s power, descending upon the black-clad cultivators like a meteor.

The black-clad cultivators were quick-witted; seeing the seal hurtling toward them, they scattered in all directions. He Song focused and noticed that each one fled toward a different path. Save for none who ran deeper into the Immortal Market, there was a fugitive in nearly every direction. Evidently, each one was a master of escape, all knowing to scatter and flee.

Boom!

With a thunderous crash, the Green Mountain Seal transformed into a massive stone, slamming into the earth and carving a huge crater into the once-solid ground.

The enormous boulder, propelled by inertia, continued forward, plowing a deep trench across the earth. The spectacle seemed devastating, yet the damage was superficial. The powerful strike that scored a deep ravine in the ground had not so much as grazed a single strand of the fleeing cultivators’ hair.

For a moment, the Immortal Market’s spectators were stunned. Even He Song’s gaze toward Master Chengshan was tinged with astonishment.

A Foundation Establishment master? Is that all? Even striking with an artifact, he missed his target? Where is his spiritual sense?

But just as He Song was entertaining such thoughts, a flicker at the edge of his vision caught something amiss. A barely perceptible golden thread had appeared, connecting all the fleeing black-clad cultivators. If not for the difference between the golden thread and the surrounding environment, he might have overlooked it entirely.

Shifting his gaze from Master Chengshan, He Song’s eyes darted, confirming he was not mistaken.

At that moment, Master Chengshan snorted coldly, and with a subtle movement of his finger, the golden thread vanished into his hand.

Instantly, the black-clad cultivators, still fleeing in all directions, collapsed in a blink—bodies and heads parted, rolling across the ground like bloody gourds.

Not a single scream escaped them; they died on the spot.

In the blink of an eye, over a dozen cultivators were decapitated, their corpses scattered.

These black-clad cultivators, some in late-stage Qi, some in the middle stage, possessed high cultivation and formidable strength. For He Song and those living in the outskirts of the Immortal Market, such individuals were overwhelming, impossible to resist in a direct confrontation—one could only hope not to catch their notice.

Yet, faced with a Foundation Establishment master, these once-powerful bullies were as ants, slaughtered at will by Master Chengshan. With a casual gesture, he reduced them all to mangled corpses.

For a time, silence reigned in the Immortal Market.

Everyone was awed by Master Chengshan’s display. With a flick of his hand, he annihilated a dozen evil cultivators, revealing the full strength of Foundation Establishment.

He Song’s eyes swept over the bloody remains outside the market, and a chill crept up his spine.

So this...is Foundation Establishment? What awe! What majesty! What overwhelming power!

After dispatching the evil cultivators, Master Chengshan looked into the distance, snorting coldly.

“Count yourselves lucky to have escaped!” With these words, his gaze turned inward, displeasure on his face.

“Why are you all standing around? Hurry and rebuild the Immortal Market!”

With a wave of his hand, a dozen or so storage bags soared from the ground into his grasp. At the same time, an earthy-yellow light shot into the most exquisite courtyard at the heart of the market.

It was a quarter hour before Master Chengshan’s presence completely faded.

Only then did the previously silent Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market slowly come back to life.

After days of evil cultivator rampage, the outskirts of Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market had been all but destroyed. Most of the rental houses were in ruins; only those uninhabited retained their original appearance.

But now that Master Chengshan had returned, the market’s safety soared exponentially. The law enforcement team, once bearing the market’s weight, no longer felt the same tension. Even He Song dared to venture out with Wei Fan for a glimpse of the outside world.

The outside was safe.

As He Song followed Wei Fan out, both their eyes shone with the joy of surviving disaster. Yet, when their gaze fell upon the devastated houses at the outskirts, they were suddenly overcome with sorrow.

“Alas, I wonder how many of my friends survived this calamity.” Walking alongside He Song, Wei Fan scanned the ruined scenery, sighing.

Though he had not warned his friends to seek refuge, nor sheltered them, nor done anything for them, his sighs were plentiful.

Ordinary friends—unlike close companions such as He Song and Meng Guan—if they died, he felt no pain; if they lived, there was no benefit.

In this harsh world of cultivation, only the living have value. Indifference to others’ lives had become the cultivators’ most basic rule.