Chapter Six: Purging the Miasma, Awakening the Divine Mouth

After safely storing the spiritual items he needed, Shen Lian left the Treasure Pavilion.

The discovery of a mineral vein outside the marketplace had ignited a treasure-hunting frenzy among the itinerant cultivators.

The demand for Miasma Dispelling Talismans surged.

For him, it was the perfect opportunity to earn some spirit stones.

Each Miasma Dispelling Talisman cost two and a half spirit stones to make.

Now that most of the miasma in his own body had been purged, Shen Lian found his spiritual power circulating more smoothly than before. He could finally attempt to craft these talismans.

“Let’s hope more fellow cultivators find their fortunes in the mine.”

As he walked past the row of shops, he glanced back at the cultivators weaving through the busy street, offering them a heartfelt blessing.

“And may I, too, earn enough spirit stones for a bottle of Yellow Sprout Pills.”

While wishing others luck in finding fateful opportunities, Shen Lian added a hope of his own.

If everyone prospers, only then is it true prosperity.

...

With Shen Lian’s earnest blessings, fortune seemed to favor the market.

He didn’t even have to wait until the next day.

That very afternoon, his words proved prophetic.

A figure, battered and bloodied, burst into the Treasure Pavilion from outside the marketplace.

Right then and there, he produced a chunk of reddish-gold ore the size of a human head.

The manager of the Treasure Pavilion, usually indifferent to all affairs, even set aside his tea to personally inspect the ore.

He promptly announced that, while this chunk of red iron ore was only of the second tier and lower grade, its substantial weight made it worth eight hundred lower-grade spirit stones!

The moment the news spread, the itinerant cultivators within the marketplace were stirred up once more.

Many ground their teeth in envy.

Some cursed, others sighed in longing.

Eight hundred spirit stones—how long would it take them to earn so much?

For most itinerant cultivators, their monthly takings might reach a hundred spirit stones.

But after all expenses, the amount truly in hand would only be ten or so, sometimes even less.

In the end, everyone was just passing spirit stones from one hand to the next.

“This really happened. My brother-in-law, who shares my trench, happened to be buying talismans and saw it with his own eyes.”

“If only I had found that ore—eight hundred spirit stones could buy me ten lives!”

“That region, Lot Thirty-Six, really is a treasure trove—if only the miasma weren’t so thick.”

...

The next day.

Unaware of the commotion outside, Shen Lian was busy exhaling rings of black mist.

Whoosh—

He swallowed another Miasma Dispelling Pill, feeling a lightness in his chest.

He pulled back his bedding, revealing a smooth stone bed beneath.

Setting out his talisman brush, spiritual ink, and talisman paper, Shen Lian glanced at the cracks deepening along his brush and sighed softly.

It seemed it was time to replace it.

He smoothed out the talisman paper, spiritual light flickering at the tip of the brush as he traced mysterious patterns.

When the brush lifted, the talisman glimmered briefly before the light faded.

The Miasma Dispelling Talisman was complete.

“Phew—”

“Cough, cough, cough...”

Setting down the talisman brush, Shen Lian began to regulate his spiritual energy.

The intricate script of the Miasma Dispelling Talisman made it a strenuous task.

It wasn’t a matter of skill.

Crafting talismans drained both spiritual power and mental energy. With lingering miasma still in his system, the process felt even more exhausting.

Putting away the ink, Shen Lian decided to rest.

Crack.

He peeled a sweet potato and chewed on it.

“Once I sell this batch of talismans, I’ll buy some spiritual rice. Even a dog would tire of eating sweet potatoes this long, let alone a person.”

Pfft—

He spat out the stub of the sweet potato.

Though he now had six surplus spirit stones in his storage pouch, Shen Lian hadn’t thought to buy spiritual rice.

Eating it was a long-term investment for cultivators’ improvement.

In the short run, there wasn’t much difference between eating sweet potatoes and spiritual rice.

To advance to the fourth layer of Qi Refining, he still needed pills.

A single bottle of Yellow Sprout Pills cost fifty lower-grade spirit stones—the most suitable pill for the early and middle stages of Qi Refining.

Ten days later.

Pfft—

He spat out a mouthful of viscous, blood-tinged black fluid.

After a moment’s relief, a faint smile appeared on his face.

The poisonous miasma in his body was finally purged.

Once he had rested, Shen Lian pulled back his bedding, set out his brush and talisman paper on the bed, and prepared to work.

Three days later.

He had produced a total of fifteen first-grade, lower-tier Miasma Dispelling Talismans.

Why fifteen? Because he had run out of spiritual ink.

These talismans consumed more ink than Fire Talismans.

Stowing the talismans in his storage pouch, Shen Lian pushed open the door and stepped outside.

Next door, a middle-aged cultivator he had seen before was just entering his room. Spotting each other, they exchanged nods before going their separate ways.

Shen Lian made his way down the street toward the shops.

Beyond the grand stone archway, the street was crowded with cultivators, some with fierce expressions.

He hurried into the Treasure Pavilion.

Behind a small counter, Weng Xia idly surveyed the room. Spotting Shen Lian, he called out.

“Fellow Daoist, over here.”

Following the greeting, Shen Lian approached the counter.

“It’s been a while, fellow Daoist. You look much better—seems you’ve driven out the miasma.”

“All thanks to your pavilion’s Miasma Dispelling Pills.”

Shen Lian withdrew ten Miasma Dispelling Talismans from his pouch.

Weng Xia’s eyes lit up as he eagerly grabbed the talismans and examined each one.

“It appears your talisman-crafting skills are solid. You’re not far from becoming a mid-tier first-grade talisman master.”

“Not quite. These talismans are complicated to make. It took me ages, and I had to keep calm and focused—yet still, half of them failed.”

“A fifty percent success rate is already impressive,” Weng Xia said softly. “Recently, demand for Miasma Dispelling Talismans has outstripped supply. The price we offer at the Treasure Pavilion is eight lower-grade spirit stones each.”

Shen Lian was taken aback.

Just over ten days ago, the price was only five spirit stones.

If the purchase price was eight, wouldn’t the market price be nine or ten? That was approaching the price of mid-tier first-grade talismans.

Weng Xia chuckled and leaned in to whisper in Shen Lian’s ear.

“I see,” Shen Lian replied, his eyes brightening with understanding.

It was all due to the newly discovered mineral vein.

His earlier heartfelt wish had come true.

The mineral vein in Lot Thirty-Six was indeed a source of great fortune.

Since its discovery just over a month ago, no fewer than three itinerant cultivators had found second-tier ore within.

This had greatly stirred the other cultivators.

The Miscellaneous Affairs Hall of the Clearwater Sect had also increased the number of missions for that region.

How much was a Miasma Dispelling Talisman, compared to the value of a piece of second-tier ore?

Any itinerant cultivator could do the math.

What were they waiting for?

They had left their homes and taken on the Clearwater Sect’s pioneering missions—this was what it was all for.

“I’d like a lower-grade first-tier talisman brush, two bottles of spiritual ink, and three packs of talisman paper.”

“Why not consider a mid-grade first-tier talisman brush? It’s only sixty lower-grade spirit stones,” Weng Xia suggested, quickly producing several brushes for Shen Lian to inspect.

Pointing to one of the mid-grade brushes, he began to introduce its features.

Shen Lian glanced at it, then looked away.

A higher-grade brush could raise his success rate, but for now, it was a luxury.

Perhaps when he began crafting higher-grade talismans, it would be necessary, but not yet.

Seeing Shen Lian select a thirty-spirit-stone lower-grade brush, Weng Xia looked a little disappointed.

Two bottles of spiritual ink: forty spirit stones.

Three packs of talisman paper: nine spirit stones.

He received one spirit stone in change.

“Miasma Dispelling Talismans will remain in high demand for a while. Once you’ve crafted more, feel free to bring them to our Treasure Pavilion,” Weng Xia said, handing Shen Lian an extra pack of talisman paper from behind the counter.

“Thank you.”

Shen Lian accepted without protest. The manager of the Treasure Pavilion was far wealthier than he, earning a commission on every deal.

After leaving the Treasure Pavilion, he didn’t head straight home. Instead, he paused outside a shop with a double-sided banner—“Lu” on the front, “Dan” (Pill) on the back.

This was the flag of the Lu family, a cultivation clan of the Chu Kingdom.

The Lu family was affiliated with the Clearwater Sect, and boasted a false core patriarch.

First-tier Yellow Sprout Pills were common in the cultivation world, not rare at all.

Any cultivation clan with some foundation had alchemists able to produce them.

With five more Miasma Dispelling Talismans and his remaining spirit stones, he had just enough to exchange for a bottle of Yellow Sprout Pills.