Chapter Eight: The Hall of Spiritual Arts

Meng Guan from the Spirit Medicine Pavilion?

Upon hearing this, He Song’s mind immediately flashed with the image of the old man from the Spirit Medicine Pavilion.

The book “Techniques for Cultivating Spirit Plants” that his predecessor obtained had been given by Meng Guan. It was thanks to Meng Guan that he became a spirit plant cultivator. Even if, for Meng Guan, this was merely a trivial matter within his duties, a favor is a favor—it must be repaid.

Now, having arrived at the Spirit Construction Pavilion, the person before him, Wei Fan, mentioned Meng Guan right off the bat. Could it be that these two have a grudge?

Thoughts raced through He Song’s mind. After considering for a moment, he decided to remain unchanged in the face of change. Even if he ended up offending Wei Fan, Wei Fan was in the Spirit Construction Pavilion and could hardly interfere with someone in the Spirit Medicine Pavilion. At worst, he would simply visit the Spirit Construction Pavilion less often in the future.

“Yes, I know him. It was Elder Meng who guided me and paved the way for me to become a spirit plant cultivator. Otherwise, I’d likely still be just a rogue cultivator now,” He Song replied without the slightest attempt to conceal anything.

As he spoke, He Song’s gaze flickered, and he was ready to leave at any moment. Inside the Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market, even internal personnel were forbidden from violence. If the law enforcement team was summoned, the consequences of fighting within the market would be severe, and not everyone could bear such charges. Even Wei Fan, an official of the Spirit Construction Pavilion, would likely not escape punishment.

“There’s no need for such concern, fellow cultivator. The immortal market is very safe, and besides, Meng Guan and I are fellow disciples. I simply wanted to ask about his recent circumstances,” Wei Fan said with a smile, his gaze at He Song even gentler.

One of Meng Guan’s duties at the Spirit Medicine Pavilion was to recruit new spirit plant cultivators, and Wei Fan knew this well. Thus, He Song, a newcomer to the Spirit Medicine Pavilion, must have been recommended by Meng Guan.

Wei Fan’s earlier question was merely to gauge He Song’s character and see if he was worth befriending. If He Song had instinctively distanced himself from Meng Guan, he would not have been greeted with Wei Fan’s amicable demeanor.

But the result pleased him greatly, and so he now viewed He Song in a new light.

Seeing this, He Song felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Soon, the two began to converse, exchanging words back and forth. Through his earlier inquiry, Wei Fan learned about He Song’s character. He Song, for his part, was happy to accept Wei Fan’s goodwill.

With both parties inclined to befriend each other, their relationship quickly deepened. By the time He Song was escorted out of the Spirit Construction Pavilion by Wei Fan himself, they were already calling each other brothers.

Leaving the Spirit Construction Pavilion, He Song looked toward the direction of the Spirit Medicine Pavilion.

That Meng Guan, who had recommended him to join the Spirit Medicine Pavilion and become a spirit plant cultivator, would soon learn of Wei Fan’s renewed regard for him.

In this way, He Song now had the friendship of both a mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator and a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator in the Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market.

During their conversation, He Song had already learned that Wei Fan’s cultivation had reached the seventh level of Qi Refining, stronger than Meng Guan’s sixth level.

To be acquainted with both Wei Fan and Meng Guan might not guarantee a meteoric rise, but at least it meant he was no longer without a foundation. If news came, he could learn of it in advance through their mouths.

Thinking of this, He Song’s steps grew lighter.

He did not return home to cultivate. Instead, following his memory, he quickly arrived at the market’s stall area.

The last time he came to the stall area was when he first ventured out to buy ordinary rice.

Back then, He Song had been cautious and hurried away after purchasing twenty pounds of rice, not daring to linger or browse for fear of being targeted.

But now things were different.

Wearing the attire of a spirit plant cultivator, He Song’s status in Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market was far superior to that of ordinary rogue cultivators. He no longer needed to worry that buying a few things would draw unwanted attention.

This time, He Song took his time to stroll through the stall area.

“Low-grade Thick Earth Talismans, five spirit stones each, only thirteen left—while stocks last!”

“Spirit rice, homegrown spirit rice, one spirit stone for ten pounds!”

“Fasting Pills, two spirit stones per bottle!”

“Low-grade magical tools, clearance sale, only eighty spirit stones!”

“….”

Cries of vendors echoed in his ears as He Song’s gaze swept over the various stalls before him.

Some sold spirit talismans, their stalls covered with talisman brushes, talisman inks, talisman papers, and other materials for talisman making—abundant and varied.

Some sold fasting pills, their stalls lined with bottles and jars, almost all filled with these low-grade pills. Genuine alchemists would not deign to set up stalls here.

There were magical tools for sale as well, but the battered, pitted appearance of these tools made it easy for He Song to imagine how much abuse they had suffered.

He Song also spotted the old man from whom he had previously bought spirit rice.

At that moment, spirit rice was pouring from the old man’s sleeve, quickly filling a cloth bag.

“A storage pouch?”

Seeing spirit rice emerge from the old man’s sleeve, He Song’s mind immediately conjured the term.

“Who would have thought that even an old man selling rice could carry a storage pouch?”

After watching a while, He Song withdrew his gaze, his confidence in his future as a spirit plant cultivator now a little greater.

If even an old man selling spirit rice could have a storage pouch, then surely he would too, someday!

He Song continued forward.

The stalls before him grew more numerous, and the goods became ever more diverse. With his limited experience, He Song found much unfamiliar and unseen.

But he was not concerned. Rogue cultivators always had a harder time, and compared to sect disciples and clan scions, their knowledge was bound to be lacking.

The solution was simple enough.

He looked up, and immediately caught sight of a grand signboard.

“Spirit Arts Pavilion.”

This was the very destination He Song had in mind for his trip to the stall area.

Earlier, when conversing with Wei Fan, he had been advised to visit the Spirit Arts Pavilion to purchase some commonly used cultivation techniques.

At the same time, the Spirit Arts Pavilion offered many books on basic cultivation knowledge for browsing.

These books carried a fee for rogue cultivators, but were free for internal members of Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market.

Only the purchase of spells required regular payment.

For someone like He Song, newly entered into the cultivation world and now an internal member of the market, this was truly a treasure trove.

He glanced at his spirit plant cultivator attire, then stepped forward and entered the Spirit Arts Pavilion.

“A humble woman named Ping’er greets you, fellow cultivator. May I ask what spells you seek?”

As soon as he entered, a gentle female voice sounded in He Song’s ear.

Following the voice, He Song’s eyes brightened.

Before him stood a beautiful female cultivator, smiling warmly at him. It was she who had just spoken.

Female cultivators were usually quite attractive; those who cultivate refine their bodies, and most were handsome men and lovely women.

He Song’s own appearance at this moment could be described as dignified and handsome.

“I am He Song. Greetings, fellow cultivator. A senior instructed me to come and choose a few basic spells.”