A Name Shakes a Region; Fallen Devil Valley

Having concluded his acquisition of the Profound Yin Ring, Han Li’s gaze swept across the exchange hall, briefly brushing over a green-robed woman whose expression was one of barely concealed greed. He was certain she was calculating whether her own strength outweighed the risk of a post-meeting ambush. Han Li had encountered such predatory logic countless times; he simply noted her face, along with those of two other cultivators who had stared too long, as high-risk variables for the coming days.

The exchange meeting continued smoothly. When it was the woman’s turn, she stood and produced a golden hoop. “This Spirit Binding Ring is not yet bound to an owner, so I can only use a fraction of its power. However, all esteemed peers here are knowledgeable—you will discern its quality at a glance. I wish to exchange this ring for a bottle of Nascent Soul-stage cultivation pills. If anyone has such pills, allow me to inspect them first.” She spoke calmly.

While every Nascent Soul cultivator already possessed their own intrinsic treasures, few would refuse an additional powerful magic tool for dual cultivation. An unbinding treasure like this could also be bequeathed to disciples. A magic tool personally refined by a Nascent Soul cultivator was naturally far superior to anything forged by a Core Formation junior. Thus, several cultivators stepped forward to negotiate, and the woman eventually made a successful trade with one.

After her, the next cultivator rose before Tianjing Zhenren could call him. “I offer a box of Star Steel Sand. I wish to exchange it for…”

The exchange proceeded without incident. Item after item presented by the Nascent Soul cultivators was something Han Li had never even seen in the grandest market towns. Each one would have bankrupted a Core Formation cultivator. He realized with cold clarity that at this level, true fair trade could only occur among peers.

Not everyone succeeded in their trade. A few items were too niche; others were valuable but demanded resources that simply were not present. Han Li observed how these old monsters handled failure: they did not haggle, did not grow angry, but simply sat down with an expression of mild regret, filing the data for another opportunity.

Fire Dragon Boy and Lu Luo both went before Han Li. Fire Dragon Boy produced a three-colored lotus the size of a bowl, a rare alchemical ingredient, but his request for a certain “Toxic Talisman Wood” went unmet. He sat down with visible disappointment. Lu Luo had better luck, trading a bottle of spirit herb juice for an unbinding fire-attributed flying sword—a treasure he likely intended for a junior, given his age.

Then it was Han Li’s turn.

As he stood, several cultivators glanced at him with renewed interest, remembering that he had bested the brocade-robed cultivator for the Vermilion Spirit Mushroom. Han Li’s face betrayed nothing as he raised two pale white jade boxes.

“I have a fifth-grade water-attributed demon core, a fifth-grade fire-attributed demon core, and two stalks of Thousand Spirit Grass. I will trade either item for a piece of Geng Essence. If no one has Geng Essence itself, I will also accept reliable information on its whereabouts, in exchange for one of these items.”

He flicked his wrists. With a flash of azure light, both boxes opened, revealing the inner treasures to the probing divine sense of every cultivator in the hall.

The reaction was immediate—not excitement, but collective wariness.

“Geng Essence?”

Murmurs rippled through the hall. The demon cores and spirit herbs were valuable, but they paled in comparison to even a pea-sized fragment of Geng Essence. A piece large enough to be useful would require mountains of such resources. Yet offering a fifth-grade core and a millennium spirit herb just for information on Geng Essence—that was an astonishing overpayment. Everyone in the hall knew that information and possession were two entirely different things. There were countless legendary treasures and ancient cultivator ruins whose locations were common knowledge, yet no one could retrieve them—they lay in places even Nascent Soul cultivators dared not tread.

The most famous example was the Fallen Devil Valley in the central region of the Heavenly South Continent.

Legend had it that this valley was an ancient battlefield from the Primordial Era. Ancient devil-cultivators of unimaginable power had laid down strange formations and forbidden restrictions, then fought each other to the death within. In the cataclysm, their clash had torn the very fabric of space, creating innumerable spatial tears that left the valley unstable. In the end, they had all perished together inside.

The combination of spatial disorder and ancient restrictions made the valley a death trap. Countless high-level cultivators, enticed by the legendary treasures and techniques left behind, had ventured in over the millennia. None had ever returned alive. By recent reckoning, nearly a thousand had died inside, with all their treasures added to the valley’s hoard. In the last ten thousand years, not a single soul had been foolish enough to try. The Fallen Devil Valley had earned its reputation as the Heavenly South’s most infamous death ground.

Thus, while every cultivator in the room knew the value of Geng Essence, none spoke up.

Han Li suppressed his disappointment. He had deliberately offered modest items, knowing that a single trade meeting would rarely yield a desired legendary material. He had hoped for information, at least. But even the Nascent Soul cultivators here had nothing to offer.

As he sat down, his gaze swept the room one last time—and paused.

Tianjing Zhenren’s expression was calm, but Han Li caught the faintest flicker of hesitation in the old Daoist’s eyes. It was gone in an instant, but Han Li had seen it clearly.

He either possesses Geng Essence, or knows where it can be found.

Han Li’s heart rate did not change, nor did his expression. He simply sat down as if nothing had happened, closing his eyes to meditate. He knew better than to press the matter immediately. A single clue was enough; he would find the right moment to extract the information.

Soon, the last cultivator completed his trade, and Tianjing Zhenren returned to the center.

“Esteemed peers, most of you have obtained what you sought. For those who did not, do not be troubled. Only a tenth of the Nascent Soul cultivators who will visit Tiantian City have arrived so far. I intend to hold another, larger exchange meeting later. I hope you will all attend. But before we adjourn, I have a few items of my own to offer.”

With a flick of his sleeves, white light shimmered, and seven or eight items materialized on the table before him. When the assembled cultivators saw what they were, a ripple of genuine surprise passed through the hall.

Han Li’s eyes widened.

Arrayed across the table were a group of puppet beasts—a white wolf, an azure python, a red bull. Each one radiated a spiritual pressure that rivaled a Core Formation cultivator. Yet they were clearly mechanical constructs. Han Li’s mind raced. These were not the same type as those recorded in his Puppet Daoist Canon, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

Is Tianjing a member of the Thousand Bamboo School? But they have no Nascent Soul cultivators… Or perhaps he cultivates a different type of puppet art.

Before Han Li could analyze further, the fat cultivator from the Blissful Union Sect spoke with a grin: “Tianjing, when did you take up puppet mastery? Planning to give up that Crystal Light Art of yours? If so, I’d truly be impressed!”

Tianjing Zhenren chuckled. “You flatter me, Brother Ju. I’m far too old to switch cultivation methods now. These puppets were recovered from an ancient relic site by myself and a few associates. My coffers are shallow at the moment, so I must use them to trade for more practical goods. Though weak compared to our own abilities, they have proven effective in certain specialized situations.”

The cultivators leaned in with renewed interest. So did Han Li.