Chapter 11: Even in Cultivation, Connections Matter

Shen Lian nodded.

Money can make the devil grind your corn.

This truth holds in many worlds.

Cultivators of the Clearwater Sect don’t live on dew alone; they have bodily needs like everyone else. Rules and regulations aside, spirit stones are the real law here.

As long as you have spirit stones and keep a low profile, you can even live in the core area.

Of course, the caves on Mount Yunmeng are out of the question—even with spirit stones, it’s a lost cause.

Clearwater Sect couldn’t care less about your pitiful offerings.

“If you want to move, my friend, don’t be shy about spending spirit stones,” said Steward Weng, leaning on the counter and inching closer to Shen Lian.

“The sect has sent in a lot of itinerant cultivators, and there aren’t enough houses for everyone. There’s bound to be fierce competition.”

“Us old hands, sent to this godforsaken wilderness to run errands for the sect… Many aren’t here to cultivate for themselves, but to earn spirit stones for the younger ones at home.”

“You get what I’m saying, right?” he asked, toying with a few spirit stones in his hand.

Shen Lian nodded again.

The message couldn’t be clearer. If he still didn’t get it, he might as well bash his head on the counter.

All at once, Shen Lian realized why, on his last visit to the General Affairs Hall, he’d been treated so coldly. He hadn’t found the right way in. He’d approached the wrong people.

In a public setting, everyone abides by the rules.

Even in the world of cultivation, custom and convention rule the day.

Luckily, he wasn’t short of spirit stones now. For a little peace of mind, spending a few extra was no big deal.

That Steward Weng was so forthright suggested their repeated dealings had laid a solid foundation.

“I’m a stranger in the market. Steward Weng, do you have any acquaintances you could introduce me to?”

Housing rentals were under the jurisdiction of the General Affairs Hall. Though Treasure Pavilion and the General Affairs Hall were different branches, both belonged to the Clearwater Sect.

Who knew, Steward Weng might just have a friend in the General Affairs Hall.

“Steward Wang Yang is an old acquaintance of mine,” Weng whispered, glancing around before leaning in. “He’s got sticky fingers, but his word is good.”

The more Steward Weng spoke, the more Shen Lian doubted he’d crossed into a true world of cultivation.

Had he become a fake cultivator?

The stench of money was everywhere.

Still, the hints had been enough, and Shen Lian understood what he needed to do.

False cultivation is all ethereal airs and living on dew and sunset glows.

True cultivation is eating, drinking, sleeping, making connections—everything runs smoother if you have spirit stones.

“Thank you for your advice, Steward Weng,” Shen Lian said, bowing his hands in gratitude.

“No need for thanks,” Weng replied, waving him off. Then he leaned forward again, speaking in a low voice.

“The Wu-character mine is vast. If you can craft mid-grade or even high-grade first-tier Miasma-Dispelling Talismans, you’ll make a fortune.”

“Crafting talismans is a profound art. I’ve practiced for decades to reach this level.”

“You’re too modest. I can see your brushwork—bold and unbroken. Your talismans are getting better and better,” Weng said with a light laugh. Clearly, he valued Shen Lian’s skill at making talismans.

...

“Steward Weng, you’re a lucky man to know such a productive talisman master,” said another steward, approaching after Shen Lian left. The smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s none of your business,” Weng shot back coldly, glancing at Steward Lin who’d come near.

“Hmph. The sect will soon allocate a large batch of Miasma-Dispelling Talismans. What’s the point in collecting a few dozen more?” sneered Lin, though he quickly put on a smile and moved toward a new customer.

Weng did not move from behind his small counter. Watching Lin’s retreating figure, his face betrayed nothing.

It was true, the sect would dispatch talismans soon. But most of those were just practice pieces from inner disciples—a far cry from the quality of Shen Lian’s work.

There were plenty of first-tier, low-grade talisman masters in the market. Weng knew dozens himself, but their skills were mediocre at best.

Only Shen Lian’s craftsmanship stood out. It was only a matter of time before he reached mid-grade, perhaps even high-grade, as a first-tier talisman master.

Otherwise, why would Weng bother speaking with him at such length?

The Miasma-Dispelling Talismans were just the business of the moment—Weng had his eyes on a longer partnership.

...

General Affairs Hall.

As Shen Lian entered, he deliberately glanced down both ends of the street.

The market street wasn’t long, and at the archway outside, he spotted the young cultivator he’d locked eyes with earlier.

With just one exit on the street, the archway was perfect for keeping watch.

Today, he’d handed a stack of talismans to Steward Weng—likely within sight of that watcher.

Loose cultivators in the market kept themselves in check only because the stakes were low.

But a few hundred spirit stones were more than enough to tempt someone to risk it all.

He wasn’t certain yet, but he’d test it on his way out.

Suppressing his thoughts, Shen Lian set about finding Steward Wang, as Weng had suggested.

Inside, cultivators bustled about, taking and reporting on tasks.

Surveying the wilderness counted among the simplest jobs.

Clearwater Sect had invested heavily to bring in so many itinerant cultivators to open new lands, but this was no act of charity.

When the region had been well mapped, the real harvest would begin.

Wherever there were spirit veins and fertile ground, a city could be built, fields and medicinal gardens cultivated, or even a base for a cultivation clan established.

For example, when a foundation-stage cultivator tired of wandering and sought to found a family, he’d need land.

These newly opened territories were ideal for such purposes.

If you wanted a piece, you paid the Clearwater Sect in spirit stones.

Short on spirit stones? No problem—installment plans were available.

In this way, the sect gained more spirit stones, and a new vassal family.

The initial cost of opening up the land was a mere trifle by comparison.

Loose cultivators’ lives weren’t worth much.

And as for the time spent, it was no concern at all.

The Clearwater Sect had a legacy stretching over two thousand years and five generations of golden core patriarchs—its reputation was ironclad in the State of Chu.

Watching the coming and going cultivators, Shen Lian felt a stir within.

A few months ago, he’d been just like them, struggling desperately for the sake of cultivation.

Now that he had a way to earn spirit stones, why not spend a little to protect his own life?

Since he wouldn’t be leaving Yunmeng Market for a while, he might as well seek a safer place to live.

After some effort, he found Steward Wang Yang, whom Weng had mentioned.

“Greetings, Steward Wang,” Shen Lian began, bowing with cupped hands and placing ten spirit stones on the stone table before Wang.

Following Weng’s advice, he led with the spirit stones.

Ten spirit stones—the price of a single Miasma-Dispelling Talisman—a mere trifle to him now.

Wang hadn’t yet sized up Shen Lian before he caught a flash of light from the stones.

Without missing a beat, his hand, which had been about to return Shen Lian’s salute, swept across the table—making the spirit stones vanish in an instant.

The movement was so smooth, Shen Lian barely registered it before the stones were gone.

All that remained was a gleaming, polished patch where the spirit stones had just sat.