After the business with Commandery Princess Ling'er wrapped up, Mo Fan didn't give it much more thought.
Whether they were royalty or the offspring of provincial governors, as long as they didn't get in the way of him making money and getting stronger, everyone could walk their own half of the road.
Over the next two or three days.
Mo Fan began wandering around this vast provincial capital of Cangqing.
He familiarized himself with the terrain and power distribution of each district while offloading the "merchandise" he'd been sitting on for ages—in batches, at different locations.
At the same time, he hadn't forgotten the main purpose of this trip: continuing to hunt for the special "qi of heaven" that Mo You needed to complete his first perfect metamorphosis.
He split the disposal of his goods into two lines.
The ordinary Tier-1 and Tier-2 demon beast materials dug out of the underground mine, the rare ores, some demon beast bones—those he sold directly to the legitimate large shops in the eastern district.
The prices were transparent, but the volume was high and the transactions were safe.
As for the gray-market loot scavenged from Old Freak Miasma Dust 's private vault, items with obvious demonic path characteristics, or the Storage Pouches and artifacts whose origins would be inconvenient to explain—
For those, Mo Fan changed back into that unremarkable gray robe and returned to the few Southeast Old Streets at the border of the southern and eastern districts. In other words, the black market.
He found several underground pawnshops with modest storefronts but staff whose eyes were exceedingly seasoned, and disposed of the gray goods gradually, spread out across the shops.
He had to admit, Cangqing City's black market really was professional.
The bosses taking the goods would typically just glance at them through a specialized artifact, verify the quality and the restrictions.
Then: negotiate, pay.
From start to finish, not a single one of them asked an extra question.
They didn't even bother taking a second look at Mo Fan's face under the hood.
As Mo Fan walked out of the Old Streets with yet another heavy load of spirit stones, he couldn't help but muse to himself:
A big city really is a big city.
Even fencing stolen goods is this smooth.
But his musing hadn't even had time to warm up in his head.
He'd only just left the busiest stretch of Southeast Old Street, and as he passed through a relatively quiet alley—
He sharply noticed that at some point, several extremely well-concealed tails had attached themselves behind him.
At first, Mo Fan didn't pay it much mind, assuming they were rogue cultivators headed the same way.
He deliberately took two extra streets at the fork ahead, and even ducked into a talisman shop and pretended to browse for a good while.
But when he came out again.
Those few faint, barely-there auras were still stuck to him like rot clinging to bone.
Interesting...
The corner of Mo Fan's mouth curled beneath the hood.
He stopped heading toward the crowded main street altogether, turned around, and strode straight into an exceedingly remote dead-end alley lined on both sides by towering courtyard walls.
Sure enough.
He'd barely stepped in before those few came swiftly in after him.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Several figures flashed out of the shadows at the alley mouth, blocking off both ends with practiced ease.
They weren't bothering to pretend anymore.
Four in total, cultivation levels mostly ranging from early to mid *Foundation Establishment*, each holding some artifact glowing with spiritual light.
Those several pairs of eyes, full of greed and murderous glints, were locked on the high-grade Storage Pouch at Mo Fan's waist.
Clearly, what they'd targeted was the substantial pile of spirit stones he'd just earned selling goods in the black market—plus whatever other good things he might not have offloaded yet.
"..."
Looking at this exceedingly classic setup, Mo Fan paused.
"...So black-eats-black is actually a thing here?"
Looking at these vicious-looking bandit cultivators, Mo Fan genuinely found it a little funny.
The black market did have strict rules. Killing and robbing weren't permitted out in the open.
But that didn't mean that once you left those few protected streets, everyone in the remote corners of Cangqing City instantly transformed into law-abiding saints.
No wasted words, no clichéd opening lines.
"Take him!"
The lead bandit barked, and all four struck in perfect coordination.
The fight ended even faster than Mo Fan had expected.
After all, his physical body was now comparable to a humanoid beast, and on top of that, he was a Tier-3 Necromancer.
Just moments later.
BANG! BANG! Crack!
The four *Foundation Establishment* bandits who'd been so ferocious a moment ago were now sprawled every which way across the remote little alley, bruised and swollen.
One had a snapped wrist, another a caved-in sternum, twitching and groaning on the ground. The eyes they turned on Mo Fan were filled with the extreme terror of men who'd seen a ghost.
This gray-robed figure with no detectable spiritual fluctuation at all wasn't a fat sheep—he was a horrifying beast wearing sheep's skin.
Mo Fan crouched down unhurriedly.
He didn't kill them. Creating corpses inside Cangqing City would ultimately be a hassle.
He merely—with exceeding practice, looking more like a robber than the robbers themselves—stripped every last Storage Pouch off their belts.
They weren't as rich as he was, but these guys had obviously pulled this black-eats-black routine plenty of times. The odds and ends of Low-grade Spirit Stones inside added up to several hundred!
They'd come to rob him.
And ended up delivering him another tidy windfall instead.
Mo Fan stood, weighing the four pouches in his hand, listening to the pleasant clinking of spirit stones inside, and an exceedingly satisfied smile spread across his face.
For the first time, he had an exceedingly direct and profound positive understanding of the cultivation world's so-called "black eats black."
"This place..."
Looking at the trembling cultivators on the ground, in excellent spirits, he muttered to himself:
"...actually suits me pretty well."
Once it was over, Mo Fan didn't pursue the matter further.
Water too clear holds no fish. That was simply the ecosystem of the gray market. As long as his own strength held up, this was an ATM with infinite returns.
In the following days.
Mo Fan shifted his focus back to real business.
He made his way through several large shops in the eastern district with genuinely deep foundations...
Continuing to convert his high-grade materials and demon beast cores into hard spirit stones.
At every shop, he carefully inquired after the special spiritual object he needed.
The results, however, were somewhat disappointing.
A few shopkeepers did produce similar high-tier spirit liquids or spirit marrows.
But after careful examination, Mo Fan found that they were either too heavily skewed toward one attribute, or their refinement quality fell a tier short—nowhere near the standard Mo You required.
When he reached the last of them, a top-tier pill pavilion claiming to be one of the "Three Great Merchant Guilds of Cangqing City's Eastern District"—
The white-haired shopkeeper, a man who'd seen plenty, simply shook his head helplessly after hearing Mo Fan out.
"What Fellow Daoist is asking for sets the bar far too high."
The white-haired shopkeeper sighed and told him plainly:
"An ordinary shop—even the outer hall of a large guild like ours—can't hold onto a treasure of that caliber."
"If Fellow Daoist absolutely must find one soon..."
The shopkeeper paused, pointing south.
"Then your only option is to try your luck at the 'Cloud Sea High-Tier Auction' in a few days. I hear this time's lots do include several extraordinary heaven-and-earth rarities."
Walking out of the pill pavilion, Mo Fan had confirmed one fact for certain.
It wasn't that Cangqing City had no good things.
It was that heavenly essences of that caliber had long since moved beyond ordinary, conventional trade channels.
If he wanted to round up the qi of heaven Mo You needed for his metamorphosis on this trip, he really would have to pin his hopes on that high-tier auction.
Walking down the clamorous main street, Mo Fan mentally tallied up his current holdings.
Through all the selling and income of this period.
Converted out, the pure liquid spirit stones he could deploy at any moment now had a purchasing power approaching two hundred and fifty Mid-grade Spirit Stones!
That was an absolutely enormous sum.
And that was without touching the most precious thing in his Storage Pouch—the remaining large sections of Peak *Golden Core* snake molt.
Mo Fan patted his Storage Pouch, feeling the perfectly preserved high-tier snake molt inside, and his mind settled a little.
A few days later.
In the core zone of Cangqing City's eastern district, a high-tier auction officially opened.
Following the location he'd learned earlier, Mo Fan arrived early at the luxurious auction house called "Cloud Summit Heavenly Palace."
This place was clearly on a completely different level from the ordinary shops and pill pavilions.
Before the enormous white jade steps, spiritual light flickered and formation patterns surfaced faintly.
The cultivators coming and going were mostly richly dressed with extraordinary bearing.
Occasionally he could even feel one or two exceedingly profound auras sweep past—no guessing needed, those were absolutely *Golden Core* powerhouses of Cangqing City arriving in person.
Mo Fan was still in a low-key green robe. He followed the flow of the crowd up to the auction house's resplendently gilded entrance.
Handling reception was a female cultivator at early *Foundation Establishment*, quite lovely in appearance.
"Fellow Daoist."
She blocked Mo Fan's path, her attitude still reasonably courteous as she bowed slightly.
"Please present your auction invitation."
Mo Fan shook his head and answered honestly:
"Don't have one."
The woman paused momentarily. Her smile didn't change, but a trace of scrutiny entered her eyes.
"Then... does Fellow Daoist have a letter of recommendation from one of the city's large merchant guilds, or from a senior of one of the great clans?"
"Also no."
Mo Fan spread his hands.
Seeing that Mo Fan had neither invitation nor recommendation, she didn't put on any clichéd look of contempt or mockery—after all, anyone working reception in a place like this had reading people as their most basic qualification.
She merely extended a hand by the rules, gesturing toward the other side of the plaza:
"If neither is convenient to present, Fellow Daoist may take a look at the 'Outer Venue' over there."
"There are plenty of spiritual objects and artifacts aimed at the *Foundation Establishment* level on sale there today as well. It's quite lively."
That was a polite refusal.
Mo Fan shook his head, his tone even:
"What I'm looking for probably isn't in the Outer Venue."
"Then my apologies, Fellow Daoist." She bowed slightly, a note of unyielding firmness in her voice. "The Inner Venue's rules are strict. Fellow Daoist may only return once you've obtained an invitation, or have someone to recommend you."
Mo Fan didn't badger her or try to force his way in.
He nodded, turned, and was about to head back down the steps, already calculating where to find a scalper to buy a recommendation from.
However.
He'd taken only two steps.
Then his feet suddenly stopped.
A memory surfaced in his mind—the words that young Young City Lord, Qing Luan, had said a few days ago as he handed over a token before leaving:
"In this city, the vast majority of places will honor it."
Standing on the white jade steps, Mo Fan patted the front of his robe.
It seemed like...
He actually did have a way in that wouldn't cost him a thing?
So.
Under the somewhat puzzled gazes of several cultivators about to enter...
Mo Fan turned back around and strode right up to that resplendently gilded entrance again.
The receptionist had already been about to put on her professional smile and greet the next lavishly dressed customer.
Seeing the cultivator from a moment ago come back...
She couldn't help frowning slightly, lifting her head, about to remind him that loitering wasn't allowed here.
At that moment.
Mo Fan reached into his robe and produced that archaic token—neither metal nor jade, carved with an intricate crest.
He set it gently on the reception desk with its fine velvet covering.
Then, pressing it with two fingers, he slowly pushed it forward.
"An invitation, I genuinely don't have."
Mo Fan looked at the receptionist, the corner of his mouth curling into a perfectly harmless smile...
And pointed at the City Lord's Manor guest token on the desk.
"But..."
"Will this do?"