A Name Shakes the Region – The Trading Fair

Chapter 682: A Name Shakes the Region – The Trading Fair

Han Li stared at the jade box in his hands for a long time before finally letting out a soft sigh and slowly storing it back into his storage pouch.

A flash of azure light later, the pale green jade slip reappeared in his palm.

Should he risk cultivating this second Nascent Soul? He would decide after thoroughly comprehending the complete secret art of the Xuanmu Infant Transformation Grand Art.

After all, the risk and difficulty of this matter were far from ordinary. It was better to be cautious.

Having made this prudent decision in his mind, Han Li immersed his spiritual sense into the technique, once again entering a state of self-forgetfulness.

The door to his secluded cultivation chamber remained tightly shut. Meanwhile, Silvermoon was also in quiet cultivation in another chamber not far away.

All other miscellaneous tasks within the cave dwelling were handled by several giant ape puppets.

Time flew by. Winter passed, spring came and went. In the blink of an eye, over a year had elapsed.

On this particular day, near the Mother-Child Peak where Han Li's cave dwelling was located, a streak of azure light and a streak of white light shot through the air from afar, their forms slowing to a halt.

The radiance converged, and two figures emerged before the dense, hazy mist. They were two Elders of the Falling Cloud Sect: the silver-haired elder and the sallow-faced, middle-aged man surnamed Lü.

Seeing the grand formation's restrictive barriers still tightly locked, the two men exchanged a knowing smile.

The middle-aged man, Lü, flicked his finger, and a prepared communication talisman shot forth, transforming into a streak of fire that vanished into the restriction. At the same time, he turned to the silver-haired elder beside him and said with a smile, “It seems Junior Han hasn't left his cave dwelling once since his return last time. Truly a dedicated ascetic.”

“That's perfectly normal. Otherwise, it would be impossible for Junior Han to have formed his Nascent Soul at a mere two hundred years of age. It's a pity my own lifespan is nearly at an end; I cannot advance further on the path of immortality. And your chances are not great either, I suspect,” Elder Cheng said, a strange expression flickering across his face.

“You jest, Senior Brother. At your age, you ought to have at least another one or two hundred years, no problem at all,” the middle-aged man quickly said, attempting to console him.

“Heh, Junior Lü! Do you think I don't know my own condition? Perhaps before my last injury, I might have lived another century or two without issue. But now, though the injury itself is mostly healed, the origin energy I lost in that fight cannot be fully recovered by mere meditation alone,” the silver-haired elder said, shaking his head calmly.

“Senior Brother!” the middle-aged man, Lü, exclaimed, his expression shifting.

But the elder waved a hand, cutting him off. “Even if I never fight or exert myself again from this day forward, I can only endure for at most five or six more decades. There's no point in comforting me on this matter; it is beyond doubt. Otherwise, why would I have been so eager to recruit Junior Han into the Falling Cloud Sect and deliberately cultivate a good relationship with him? In ordinary circumstances, no matter how eager one is to recruit a person, one would first thoroughly investigate their background before speaking. Even so, my judgment has now been proven correct. This man, though his origins are a bit circuitous, certainly didn't join our Falling Cloud Sect with any other agenda in mind,” the silver-haired elder said slowly.

“Senior Brother, did the disciple you sent out last time truly uncover Junior Han's origins?” The middle-aged man, Lü, was taken aback by this.

“Indeed. Although Junior Han was rather vague about his past, with only the clues of his name, appearance, and origin from the State of Yue, I sent several disciples to discreetly investigate there. They managed to uncover the general outline of our Junior Han's background. You may find it hard to believe, but our Junior Han was, over a hundred years ago, a Foundation Establishment disciple of the former Yellow Maple Valley in the State of Yue. He even had some minor reputation among the Foundation Establishment disciples. It is said that during the war with the demonic path, he single-handedly slew a number of cultivators of the same rank. But later, when the Yellow Maple Valley was routed, that old fox, Linghu, for some unknown reason, misjudged him and discarded him as a scapegoat. After that, our Junior Han vanished without a trace, living in obscurity and practicing in seclusion somewhere, only to suddenly reappear recently with a Late Core Formation cultivation, and then form his Nascent Soul here in our Falling Cloud Sect. It seems he must have encountered some other opportunity during that blank period,” the elder said calmly.

“Discarded as a scapegoat. How amusing. To discard a sect disciple who turns out to be a once-in-a-millennium cultivation prodigy, rising from Foundation Establishment to Nascent Soul in such a short time. I wonder if old fox Linghu, upon learning of this, will be stamping his feet in regret! After all, the Yellow Maple Valley's position in the Nine Nations Alliance hasn't been easy lately. It's far too difficult for him alone to hold it all together. And if my memory serves me, he is a cultivator from the same era as you, Senior Brother. His lifespan shouldn't be much longer either, right?” A cold, mocking sneer curled at the corner of the middle-aged man, Lü's, mouth.

“True. The old fox, Linghu, is actually a bit older than I am. But that old monster is an expert in the art of nurturing life, so he has a slightly longer natural lifespan. As long as he remains, the Yellow Maple Valley shouldn't face any major problems before his eventual seated transformation. I once had the same worry for the Falling Cloud Sect. If I were to pass on, I feared that you, Junior Brother, would be unable to stand alone and would be helpless.”

“If it weren't for our occupation of a sacred spiritual mountain range like the Yunmeng Mountains, then relying on you alone, Junior Brother, would have been enough to keep the Falling Cloud Sect prosperous and worry-free. But as things stand, if our sect's strength wavers even slightly, I'm afraid there would be quite a few jealous sects jumping at the chance to move against us. My original intention was to instruct you, Junior Brother, that once I was gone, the whole sect should voluntarily withdraw from the Yunmeng Mountains to avoid a great calamity. But with Junior Han joining us now, all of this has changed.”

“This Junior Han appears to be an ascetic who pursues the Dao single-mindedly and cares little for sect affairs. But the more he is like this, the more I can rest assured. As long as we properly win him over and no once-in-ten-thousand-years catastrophe befalls us, the Falling Cloud Sect can be worry-free for another millennium.” The silver-haired elder stroked his long beard, looking very confident.

“But Junior Han, though a cultivation prodigy, is still very young. He has only just condensed his Nascent Soul. I wonder what his actual magical power is like,” the middle-aged man, Lü, said hesitantly, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Mm. I share that concern. There are some ascetics who are unwilling to waste time cultivating powerful techniques, only focusing on advancing their realm. Such cultivators, despite their profound cultivation, can be defeated in battle by those even one or two ranks lower. While I don't think Junior Han is that kind of ascetic, it is still better to test him. That's why, for this trip to the trading fair, I've specially chosen to remain behind and guard the sect, letting you accompany Junior Han on this journey.” The silver-haired elder spoke with a mysterious expression.

“Senior Brother, do you mean...?” the middle-aged man, Lü, seemed to have caught on.

The elder smiled faintly, but before he could say anything more, the mist before them suddenly began to churn. Seeing this, the elder immediately fell silent.

The middle-aged man followed suit, closing his mouth without another word.

The surging mist parted gently to each side, revealing a passage on its own. The two men, without any hesitation, walked in side-by-side, their figures gradually disappearing into the thick fog until they were no longer visible.

...

Three months later, the Tientsang City, the largest trading fair in the Heavenly South region, held once a century, was about to convene in the northernmost state of Yu.

The city, built deep within the mountains of this state, was the headquarters of the Nine Nations Alliance and the only city in the Heavenly South solely for cultivators.

Every resident of this city, male or female, young or old, was a cultivator with spiritual roots. Within the city, there were as many as six or seven old monsters of the Nine Nations Alliance at the Mid-Nascent Soul stage or above, enough to instantly annihilate any cultivator who dared to cause trouble or provoke them.

Thus, whether they were from the righteous or demonic path, the Heavenly Dao Alliance, or unruly rogue cultivators, none dared to act too recklessly or stir up trouble here.

A month or two before this, the first trading fair in the Heavenly South was set to begin, its host, the Nine Nations Alliance, had already deactivated most of the restrictions of the city's famous protective grand formation, the "Upper Primordial Annihilation Light Formation."

By this time, some cultivators from distant lands had already arrived in the city. Some impatient ones had even set up stalls in the market areas within the city, and other cultivators could be seen approaching to inquire about prices and trade.

For while the main days of the trading fair would naturally see countless treasures and rare materials emerge, these were certainly not things ordinary cultivators could afford. For those wishing to purchase slightly rarer but suitable materials, it was better to seek them out and buy them early.

The once slightly desolate Tientsang City soon became bustling and lively, as busy as any ordinary mortal city.

The only difference was that the people walking along both sides of the streets were all cultivators of no mean cultivation level.

And the sole currency used for buying and selling was spirit stones.

The city's only auction house, also run by the Nine Nations Alliance, had begun accepting and appraising various rare items for consignment.

The entire city of Tientsang gradually grew hotter by the day.

When only half a month remained until the trading fair, three beams of light were flying unhurriedly towards the city from several thousand li away.

As the beams drew closer, one could make out two men and one woman, all cultivators.

One of them was a coldly beautiful female cultivator, clinging closely to a plainly-dressed young man in a green shirt, her manner seemingly quite affectionate.

The other was a middle-aged man in blue robes, his sleeves fluttering in the wind, his bearing quite extraordinary.