The wind in the Northern Territory's gorge carried a faint reek of blood.
Gu Chengming stood beside that puddle of hawk-corpse, now mangled almost beyond recognition, looking at the demon core in his hand—shattered into several pieces, its spiritual energy already mostly drained away—and couldn't help but sigh.
—Look on the bright side: one demon core had become several.
But to be honest, if it weren't for the genuinely troublesome side effects of that move—[Hundred Heavens Emperor, Aid Me]—Gu Chengming really felt that cultivating this single «Myriad Forms Creation Fist» alone would be enough to run roughshod over the whole world.
After all, whether it was the operation of sword formations or the mechanics of spell arts, in the face of absolute raw stats they all looked a bit like flashy gimmickry.
One punch comes down and it's a straight stat-check; once the stats are compared, it's either you die or I live—who's going to keep playing mind-games back and forth with you?
Come to think of it, all the CGs Old Hundred handed out were pretty stat-monster-ish, weren't they?
For now it did seem somewhat overpowered, because below the Fourth Realm that was indeed the case—but Gu Chengming had no idea yet what the situation was for the Fifth Realm, or for the so-called great cultivators above the Sixth Realm.
If those great cultivators all played by mechanics, then wouldn't Old Hundred be done for?
And judging from the condition that pure body-cultivation couldn't be taken all the way to the end, the odds that the great cultivators played by mechanics were really not small.
Well, at least for now the so-called great cultivators were still far off. For now he'd play the stat-crushing game; once he got there, who knew—maybe some new mechanic would emerge?
Gu Chengming weighed the few dull demon-core fragments in his hand with some regret.
This was, after all, the inner core of a Second-Realm Consummation great demon. Intact, it could have been taken to the Hall of Battle Merit to exchange for at least a hundred-odd merit points, or even used to refine some special pills.
Smashed like this, its value was bound to be heavily discounted.
Still, fortunately, the bulk of the merit points actually came from the act of demon-hunting itself—it was just that Old Hundred was probably aching with heartbreak over it.
However, contrary to Gu Chengming's expectations—
[Though the Hundred Bones Resonance ached with regret, it still consoled him: It's fine, Emperor Gu! This kind of demon-beast's inner core has too many impurities—we're better off without it anyway!]
[A true Heavenly Sovereign wouldn't deign to pick up such garbage! When we plunder, we go plunder real heaven-and-earth treasures!]
Gu Chengming felt a bit odd inside. Granted, the sight of Old Hundred enduring its own heartache just to comfort him was rather touching.
But why did these comforting words of yours sound so awkward?
Thinking this, Gu Chengming nonetheless upheld the fine tradition of "a thief never leaves empty-handed"... er, of thrift and good housekeeping, and bent down to rummage through that heap of red-and-white muck.
Besides the demon core, the few hardest plumes on the Iron-Feather Grey Hawk's body and its pair of sharp talons had just barely survived. Damaged though they were, they could still be exchanged for some merit.
"Hm?"
Just as Gu Chengming was about to wrap up and leave, his fingers suddenly brushed against a hard, ice-cold object.
The feel of it was neither like bone nor like stone—more like some kind of metal.
He reached out and grabbed it, prying a palm-sized token out of that mire of blood and flesh.
Gu Chengming casually cast a Cleansing Spell to wash off the bloodstains.
The token was a dark-iron color all over; its material was neither metal nor wood, and cold to the touch.
The front of the token bore no words, only the carved image of an Azure Luan with wings spread as if about to take flight. Two tiny rubies were set where the Azure Luan's eyes would be, exuding an indescribable air of eerie strangeness; on the back of the token were engraved intricate, obscure cloud-and-thunder patterns, with a faint flowing light drifting between the lines.
This was clearly not something a Second-Realm demon bird could have forged—indeed, it didn't even look like a treasure a creature of its rank should possess.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance swept away its earlier heartache and grew somewhat excited.]
[There's even a kill-and-seize-the-treasure segment!]
[Emperor Gu, this thing might be of great use!]
[Hundred Bones Resonance favorability +2]
Gu Chengming stroked the patterns on the token and probed into it with his divine sense, only to find it like a clay ox sinking into the sea—no reaction at all.
"Seems it's a token that needs some specific method to open?"
Gu Chengming mused. Though he didn't yet know its purpose, since the Iron-Feather Grey Hawk had carried it on its person, it must have some origin.
The wind and snow grew heavier, sweeping up the remnant snow on the ground and burying the traces of battle bit by bit.
Gu Chengming lingered no longer. He put the token away, got his bearings, and with a flicker of his figure vanished into the vast, boundless snowstorm.
By the time he returned to Snowfall Pass, the sky was already near dusk.
Inside the Hall of Battle Merit it was still abuzz with voices, and the one-armed old cultivator in charge of verifying battle merit was swamped with work.
When Gu Chengming set the still-dripping bag of bloody water on the counter, the old cultivator clearly froze for a moment.
When he opened the bag and saw the heap of demon-beast materials, smashed like a rotten orange, along with the demon core that had obviously been violently blasted to pieces, the expression on his weather-beaten old face became exceedingly remarkable.
He looked up at the young man before him—handsome as a jade-crowned youth—then looked back down at that heap of "muck," his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.
"Young man..."
The old cultivator swallowed and asked in an odd tone:
"Did this demon-beast kill your father or something?"
He'd worked in this Hall of Battle Merit for so many years; the demon-beast corpses he'd seen numbered, if not ten thousand, then eight thousand.
Slain by sword, burned by fire, struck dead by lightning, even poisoned to death—he'd seen them all.
But one "blasted" into such an evenly-mashed pulp—with even the demon core shattered along with it—this was honestly the first time in his life he'd seen such a thing.
How much strength was that? How great a grudge was that?
——A father-killing grudge there probably wasn't, but there'd soon be one—except it'd be me slaughtering its whole family.
Thinking this inwardly, on the surface Gu Chengming explained: "It was trying to self-detonate at the time, so in the heat of the moment I came down just a teeny bit heavy."
The old cultivator's mouth twitched. This counted as "a teeny bit"?
But rules were rules. As long as it could be proven to be a demon-beast—even smashed to bits—the merit due had to be paid.
Although the shattered demon core meant a discount in value, considering this was a demon listed on the Green-Fang Ranking, plus the still-usable plumes and talons, the old cultivator in the end gave a fairly fair figure.
"All right, three hundred eighty battle-merit points, recorded to your name."
As he recorded it, the old cultivator couldn't help stealing a couple more glances at Gu Chengming.
These days, the more refined they looked, the more ruthless their hands.
He recalled that back in the day there'd been a young man like this too—called Ren, Ren Wen-something, was it?
Ah, he was getting old; only a few centuries had passed and he couldn't remember anymore.
Unaware of the old cultivator's inner thoughts, having dealt with the trivial matters, Gu Chengming thanked the old cultivator, turned, and walked out of the clamorous hall.
By now the sky had darkened, and dim yellow lights had come on along Snowfall Pass's streets, tinting the wind and snow with a layer of warm color.
Coming out of the Hall of Battle Merit, Gu Chengming went straight back to the rear courtyard of the Northern Garrison Manor.
The moment he pushed open the door, a wave of warmth rushed at his face, and with it came a stretch of very rhythmic breathing.
There he saw Yu Wenqiu curled up in utterly undignified fashion on that soft couch spread with thick fox fur, a blanket over her, half her face buried in the pillow, sleeping soundly.
Perhaps dreaming of something delicious, a glistening thread of drool still hung from the corner of her rosy lips, and now and then she'd smack them a couple of times.
Gu Chengming looked at this Elder of his, sleeping like the dead, and let out a helpless sigh.
She'd been asleep a whole day now, hadn't she?
Still, Gu Chengming could understand.
He'd originally thought Yu Wenqiu's excessive sleepiness these past few days was because she wasn't acclimatized after arriving in the Northern Territory, or simply that her laziness had flared up.
It wasn't until he later learned the truth from Luo Jinyao that he realized he'd wrongly blamed this Elder.
That day, facing the Green-Scaled Hawk King's killing blow, Yu Wenqiu had forcibly opened her Clairvoyant Eye and carried him through the void in an ultra-long-distance precision teleportation—the drain on her spirit-soul had been utterly terrifying.
Her deep slumber these past days was not slacking off, but a way of rapidly repairing her damaged divine sense and energy through a special technique called the "Tortoise-Breath Spirit-Nurturing Method."
Even though her spirit-soul had been wounded, Yu Wenqiu hadn't breathed half a word of it to him.
In these respects, little Elder Yu really did carry the bearing of an elder.
Gu Chengming tiptoed aside, set the food box of piping-hot spirit-food on the table, and without waking her, turned and walked out of the room.
In the courtyard, beneath the red plum tree.
Luo Jinyao stood quietly in the snow, seemingly lost in some thought.
Seeing Gu Chengming approach, she sheathed her sword and stood, a trace of gentle, warm smiling rising in those cool, clear eyes.
"You're back?"
Luo Jinyao glanced at the aura about Gu Chengming and gave a slight nod:
"Looks like this trip out was quite fruitful. The malevolent aura about you is a bit heavier, but your aura is more condensed."
Gu Chengming cupped his hands in salute, then, as if recalling something, took out from his storage pouch the dark-iron token he'd recovered from the Iron-Feather Grey Hawk.
"Senior Luo, this junior happened upon this item while hunting that hawk-demon, but can't make out its origin. Might Senior take a look?"
Luo Jinyao took the token; it felt slightly heavy in her hand.
She didn't speak right away, but turned the token over and over, examining it several times, then a sliver of silver-white sword-light lit at her fingertip, which she gently tapped against the cloud-and-thunder patterns on the back of the token.
"Hmmmm—"
The previously dead-silent token, the instant it met this Fourth-Realm sword intent, actually emitted an extremely faint hum, and the two rubies set in the Azure Luan's eyes flickered with a ghostly light in response—but quickly returned to stillness.
Luo Jinyao's delicate brows knit slightly.
"This material... seems to be Mystic Demon Iron, but the forging technique is quite ancient—it doesn't look like a product of the last thousand years."
She pondered a moment, her gaze falling on the Azure Luan image:
"The Azure Luan governs wind; cloud-and-thunder governs punishment. The seal on this token is exceedingly masterful—even my sword intent can't forcibly break it open, only stir its resonance."
"If I'm not mistaken..." Luo Jinyao lifted her head, a few traces of uncertainty in her tone:
"This ought to be a key. Or some sort of identity token, used to pass through a particular ancient seal."
Gu Chengming's heart stirred: "Senior means—a secret realm?"
"Very possibly."
Luo Jinyao handed the token back to Gu Chengming and analyzed:
"This land of the Northern Territory was once the main battlefield of the human and demon races, burying countless powerhouses and sects. Ruins and secret realms often surface here due to shifts in the earth's crust or tides of spiritual energy."
"Since this hawk-demon carried it on its person, that means it perhaps knew something—or that the Green-Scaled Hawk King behind it knew something."
"Keep it safe for now; perhaps one day you'll come across the place it opens."
Having heard this, before Gu Chengming could say anything, the Hundred Bones Resonance in his sea of consciousness had already started shouting.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance cheered: Yay! It really is a secret realm!]
[A secret realm definitely has ten-thousand-year spirit herbs! Ancient divine weapons! And lost imperial scriptures! Emperor Gu, we're rich!]
Meanwhile, in a corner, the «Huiyuan Sword Formula», which had been quiet all along, was now somewhat worried.
[Ancient seals and the like—just hearing it sounds terrifying... what if there's some danger inside?]
Gu Chengming watched his cultivation methods bicker, thinking to himself, then cupped his hands and said: "Many thanks, Senior, for clearing up my confusion."
Their main business concluded, Gu Chengming then asked about the front-line battle situation he'd been most concerned with these two days.
At the mention of this, Luo Jinyao's expression eased a little, yet a trace of worry still lingered between her brows.
"Thanks to Director Zhou, that day's battle slew two Demon Kings outright. Once the news traveled back to the Demon Domain, their arrogance was instantly beaten down."
Luo Jinyao sighed, gazing at the vast, hazy night to the north:
"The demon tide that had originally massed at the border, ready to march south with the Fifth-Realm Demon Kings, has now mostly withdrawn. The pressure on the various passes has plummeted, and that oppressive sense of an impending storm I'd been sensing has dispersed quite a bit these past days."
"So you're saying the situation has stabilized?" Gu Chengming asked.
"Stabilized for the moment, I suppose."
Luo Jinyao gave a bitter laugh: "It's fortunate too that Director Zhou's strength exceeded the Demon Domain's expectations. Had Director Zhou failed to hold the line in that battle, or fallen there—taking the Night-Watch Bureau's elite flying-ship squadron down with her—the Demon Domain would likely have already launched a full-scale invasion, and this Snowfall Pass... would probably be in dire peril."
"But the surface-level pact between us has been thoroughly torn up. Though the demons' main force has withdrawn for now, the enmity is sealed, and with two Demon Kings dead, this is a blood-deep grudge—they'll never let it rest."
"The present calm is nothing but their stalling tactic. Once the demons recover their strength, this Northern Territory... will probably descend into chaos again."
Gu Chengming nodded, then asked: "And how is Director Zhou's injury?"
Although rumor outside held Zhou Qingmu's divine might to be invincible, he knew very well that fighting three at once—and slaying two Demon Kings of the same rank—the price would surely not be small.
Luo Jinyao was silent for a moment before saying softly: "Though her life is not in danger, and her foundation has been stabilized, that result was bought by overdrawing her origin-essence. Director Zhou's vital organs were injured, and the Demon King's virulent poison and malevolent aura still linger in her body—for a while she likely won't be able to call upon her full power again."
"I've already received secret orders. In a few days, once Director Zhou's injuries are somewhat more stable, I'm to personally escort her back to the Great Qian's Capital first, to recuperate by means of the Imperial City's dragon-qi and the Imperial Medical Academy's techniques."
"Director Zhou returns to the Capital gravely wounded; on the demon side two Demon Kings are dead, and the remaining one is half-crippled too..."
Gu Chengming suddenly realized something.
Didn't this mean that, for a long stretch ahead, on this Northern Territory battlefield, both sides' "main accounts" had been banned?
With no Fifth-Realm figures coming out, wasn't this plainly leaving the stage of performance to those below?
[The Hundred Bones Resonance cheered again: Emperor Gu! You've attained enlightenment!]
[Make your name, slay every demon-race prodigy, forge the supreme path of the Heavenly Sovereign—it all begins today!]
[But let's not do anything too dangerous either—we'll become Sovereign sooner or later anyway, so safety first!]
[It gave a little harrumph, thinking: Don't go assuming only that so-called sword formula worries about your safety—it does too, all right?]
Gu Chengming: ...
He'd been puzzling over why the Hundred Heavens Emperor had suddenly had a change of heart—turned out it was because the earlier exchange about the secret realm had made it jealous.
This left Gu Chengming feeling a bit odd inside.
It really was a rare sight to see Old Hundred jealous.
Rather cute, actually.
Inside the room, the earth-fire blazed vigorously, shutting all of the Northern Territory's sky-filling wind and snow outside the window lattices.
This wing room of the Northern Garrison Manor, reserved for cultivators to rest, had been arranged by Luo Jinyao with exceeding elegance. In the corners there were even several pots of red plum blossoms coaxed open by spiritual power, their faint fragrance drifting, blending with the cozy warmth of the room—most apt to lull one to sleep.
Yu Wenqiu was curled deep within the fox fur, most of her body sunk into it.
She hadn't bound her hair today; her waterfall of black tresses lay scattered across the pillow, a few strands by her cheek rising and falling gently with her long, slow breaths.
Perhaps sensing the change in the air beside her, or perhaps dreaming of something pleasant, Yu Wenqiu instinctively reached out and hugged the cloud-patterned soft pillow in her arms, nuzzling her cheek against the soft brocade again and again with attachment, mumbling indistinctly:
"Little Gu, little Gu, I'm nuzzling..."
Gu Chengming couldn't quite bear to watch this disgraceful display of his Elder's, and helplessly woke her with a soft voice.
"Elder, I've brought food back for you."
As he spoke, Gu Chengming opened the food box.
Yu Wenqiu, still nuzzling the pillow, twitched her exceptionally keen nose.
The next moment, she snapped her eyes open—still carrying a few traces of half-asleep daze—but her body had already instinctively sat up, drawn by the aroma.
When she made out Gu Chengming standing by the bed, she recoiled as if her tail had been stepped on, instinctively hugging the pillow tighter, her face—still bearing sleep-creases—instantly flushing crimson.
"Lit... little-little Gu?!"
She stammered, her gaze flustered with nowhere to settle, and blurted out: "I... I absolutely was not just now dreaming about you and me—"
Halfway through, she abruptly bit her tongue.
What was she even saying?! "Wasn't dreaming about him"—what was that supposed to mean? Wasn't that just confessing without being pressed?!
"Ah, no! Ahem, ahem..."
Yu Wenqiu hastily gave two tactical coughs, trying to use an Elder's dignity to cover this embarrassment, and forcibly changed the subject:
"What I mean is... when did you get back?"
Gu Chengming looked at her ear-roots, so red they seemed about to drip blood, and found it funny, thinking that little Elder Yu's symptoms of spirit-soul damage were really too obvious.
"Just a little while ago." Gu Chengming set the food box on the small table without changing his expression: "Just came back from the Hall of Battle Merit, and stopped by the kitchen on the way to bring Elder a bit of food."
"Oh... oh-oh, I see."
Seeing that Gu Chengming wasn't pressing on her earlier slip of the tongue, Yu Wenqiu finally let out a relieved breath, as if a burden had been lifted.
She stole a glance at Gu Chengming, and only after confirming there was no strange expression on his face did she recover a bit of her confidence as an elder.
"All righty, then thank you, little Gu."
With that, not even putting on her shoes, she sat cross-legged barefoot on the soft couch and reached out to drag the food box over.
The instant she bit into a chicken leg, her previously somewhat tense little face instantly relaxed, and she narrowed her eyes blissfully.
"Mmh... not bad, not bad. This Snowfall Pass chef's skill is no less than the Capital's."
Gu Chengming poured her a cup of hot tea at the side, and looking at her bulging cheeks, asked casually:
"What was Elder dreaming about just now? Smiling so happily."
"Cough, cough, cough—!"
Yu Wenqiu nearly choked on the chicken and hurriedly gulped down a big mouthful of tea before she could catch her breath.
She guiltily shifted her gaze away, staring at the chicken leg in her hand, and mumbled hesitantly:
"N-nothing, really?"
—I beg to differ.
Gu Chengming thought to himself: Well now, little Elder Yu—wanting to enter a special CG with me before even triggering a dialogue option.
As if afraid she'd say something wrong again, Yu Wenqiu buried her head and ate ravenously.
Watching her ostrich-like manner, Gu Chengming chuckled inwardly.
It seemed Senior Luo was right—spirit-soul damage really did lower one's self-control. The little Yu who usually had to keep up a bit of an Elder's airs was now, instead, a bit more... genuinely cute?
After the meal, Yu Wenqiu's spirits had recovered quite a bit.
The two discussed it and decided to stay, for now, in the rear courtyard of the city lord's manor.
Here there was an earth-fire formation, and Luo Jinyao holding the fort; both safety and comfort were top-tier in Snowfall Pass—no need to go fuss about outside.
However, though they had lodging, apart from the basic furniture, the room was utterly without any other daily necessities.
Gu Chengming looked at Yu Wenqiu's condition, told her to keep resting, and—taking the Pass-Guarding Token with him—planned to stroll through the market within the pass to acquire bedding, washing implements, and to buy some snacks for the Elder.
Snowfall Pass's market lay in the south of the city and was called the "Barter Market."
Unlike the Great Qian Capital's neatly-planned markets, which exuded wealth and nobility everywhere, the Barter Market here gave off a rugged, practical, and utterly unique frontier-pass flavor.
The moment he stepped through the Barter Market's archway, a clamorous wave of heat rushed at his face.
The streets here were not broad; the buildings on either side were mostly built of heavy black rock—low and sturdy—to withstand the Northern Territory's ceaseless year-round gale-winds.
Hanging beneath the eaves were not delicate lanterns, but enormous windproof lamps made from demon-beast grease, their light dim-yellow and steady, illuminating the streets bright as day.
Gu Chengming strolled among them, observing his surroundings with great interest.
The stalls here were extremely casual—often just a beast-hide spread on the ground, piled with goods.
Some sold heavy cloaks made from demon-beast pelts, some sold "Blazing Sun Talismans" that could burst with instant heat to drive off the cold, and some sold the kind of "Blade-Burn" liquor blended from strong spirits and spirit-herbs.
As for the exquisite jade pendants, hairpins, or gorgeous dharma-robes with no real combat use, hardly anyone here gave them a second look.
The mode of trade here was quite hardcore too: besides spirit-stones, the hard currencies here were "battle merit" and "demon-beast materials."
Gu Chengming watched with his own eyes as a big, full-bearded man pulled a freshly-hacked demon-wolf thigh straight out of his storage pouch and tossed it to the liquor-seller, exchanging it for two jars of strong liquor. Neither said a single superfluous word—clearly long accustomed to this primitive barter method.
Moreover, although the cultivators here mostly looked fierce and savage, carrying undispersed malevolent auras, in the Barter Market they kept the rules strictly.
No one dared cause trouble here, because at the end of the street, atop the tallest tower, a divine sense belonging to a Fourth-Realm great cultivator patrolled at all times.
Gu Chengming bought the bedding and daily goods he needed at several shops, and just as he was about to head back, he noticed quite a few people crowded around a corner of the Barter Market.
There stood a black wooden board, plastered all over with red-and-white notices.
Gu Chengming had thought it was a sub-board of the Myriad Demon Ranking, but upon drawing closer found it was not.
On this board, glaringly written, were three large characters—[Bounty Notice].
Unlike the officially-issued demon-hunting missions of the Myriad Demon Ranking, the bounties here were mostly privately posted.
[Bounty: The human cultivator Zhao Gou. Half a month ago in Broken Leaf Forest, this man deliberately lured demon-beasts into attacking his teammates, causing three of them to perish, then made off alone with the spoils and fled. Whoever brings his head will be rewarded with five thousand low-grade spirit-stones, or one Tier-Two dharma artifact. Posted by: the Blood Wolf Demon-Hunting Squad.]
[Bounty: Whoever provides clues to the exact hiding place of 'Hidden Demon' will be rewarded with fifty battle-merit points.]
[Bounty: Capture the mole Wang Hu. As an information peddler, this man actually sold the news of our squad accepting the Crimson Flame Tiger listing to the demon race, causing our squad to be ambushed. Dead or alive, reward of ten thousand spirit-stones! Posted by: the Iron Alliance.]
Looking at the contents, Gu Chengming had a sudden realization.
Before coming here—indeed, when he'd first encountered the rules of "accepting" listings on the Myriad Demon Ranking—a doubt had actually lingered in his mind all along.
—Since hunting a demon required first accepting the listing, wasn't this glaringly announcing to everyone: "I'm going to kill this demon"?
If there were a mole within Snowfall Pass, who needed only watch who accepted a listing and then tip off the demon race, wouldn't the demon-hunter become prey delivering itself into the net?
Such an obvious loophole—the rule-makers couldn't possibly have failed to think of it.
But now Gu Chengming understood.
The existence of the Myriad Demon Ranking did indeed give moles an opening to exploit.
But likewise, it was also the best bait for catching moles.
Every acceptance of a listing was a flow of information. If a cultivator's whereabouts were exposed and he was ambushed after accepting a listing, then the range of those who knew the details of that operation would be greatly narrowed.
Some "accepted" missions might even themselves be false information released by the authorities.
The so-called "demon-hunting squad" might not exist at all, or might itself be the enforcement team in disguise. Once the demon side caught wind and reacted, the channel relaying the message would be instantly exposed.
Moreover, looking at the high bounties aimed at moles, the authorities were clearly also encouraging this bottom-up "purge."
As long as you dared betray, not only would the authorities want you dead—those bounty hunters after the reward, rogue cultivators, even your own accomplices, would all regard you as walking battle merit.
Gu Chengming's gaze swept down the red-and-white notice wall, and soon a bounty notice of rather distinctive style caught his attention.
The paper of that notice was not ordinary yellow paper, but gold-stamped Xuan paper, and the handwriting fairly exuded a teeth-gnashing hatred.
[Bounty—Thief-Cultivator: Nuo Pao]
[Crime: Three days ago this person infiltrated the Myriad Gold Pavilion's storehouse and, using a bizarre escape art, made off with twelve Tier-Two dharma artifacts!]
[Bounty: This person must be captured alive! If you can bring this person back, the Myriad Gold Pavilion is willing to offer the twelve stolen Tier-Two dharma artifacts as a token of thanks! Plus a bonus of two thousand low-grade spirit-stones!]
[Posted by: the Pavilion Master of the Myriad Gold Pavilion]
"Good grief..."
Gu Chengming looked at the bounty and couldn't help clicking his tongue.
Twelve top-grade Tier-Two dharma artifacts—that was no small gesture.
And the bounty's terms were even more outrageous: as long as the person was brought back, all the goods went to you?
Had the Myriad Gold Pavilion's Pavilion Master perhaps been robbed so badly his Dao-heart had shattered, seeking only to vent his fury?
However, what most caught Gu Chengming's attention was not the amount of the reward, but that special appellation—thief-cultivator.
Into his mind unbidden surfaced some of the strange anecdotes about the Northern Territory's cultivation world that Luo Jinyao had casually mentioned during idle chat a few days before.
Upon this vast land of the Nine Provinces, besides the orthodox cultivators who founded sects and valued orderly inheritance, and the devil-cultivators and demon-cultivators who fed on raw flesh and blood or harmed others through heterodox arts, there existed yet another extremely special group.
They cultivated no great arts of slaughter, sought no long life and eternal vision, yet specialized in escape arts, concealment, seal-breaking, and reaching into a pouch to take its contents.
These were the "thief-cultivators."
Luo Jinyao had said at the time that Gu Chengming hailed from the Wenjian Sect, and that his first descent for tempering had taken him to a place of foremost refinement like the Great Qian Capital, so he knew very little of these motley trades.
The Great Qian Capital was where the dragon-veins converged, its imperial aura vast and mighty, suppressing all manner of goblins and specters.
In such a place of strict rules and covering grand formations, a thief-cultivator's full skill would be suppressed by ninety percent; the slightest unusual movement would be detected by the Imperial Astronomical Bureau's seismograph or the Night-Watch Bureau's night-patrol guards. Thus in the Capital, thief-cultivators were all but extinct.
But the Northern Territory was different. This was a land beyond civilization—rules in chaos, dragons and fish mingled together—and ancient secret realms and ruins often surfaced here.
Such an environment was simply the place thief-cultivators dreamed of.
Thief-cultivators usually had no gate or sect—or rather, were transmitted singly down one line—acting in secrecy and very rarely showing their true faces.
"Senior Luo even specially warned me..." Gu Chengming instinctively touched the storage pouch at his waist, thinking inwardly: "She said that profound thief-cultivators practiced a special pupil-art that could see through a storage pouch's seal to the treasures within—the principle of 'never flaunt your wealth' was utterly useless before a thief-cultivator."
Thinking this, Gu Chengming shook his head, withdrew his gaze, and without lingering further on that bounty notice, carried his purchases and turned to leave the clamorous Barter Market.
However, what he didn't know was that the very instant he turned around—
A gaze had already, silently and without a sound, settled upon him.
In a corner of the Barter Market, beneath an inconspicuous tea-shed.
A girl who looked about fifteen or sixteen was sprawled boredly across a table, toying with two copper coins in her hand.
The girl was very pretty—a fair, clean little round face, those eyes large and lively, exuding a quirky, mischievous spark.
She wore an unremarkable set of black short-cut clothes, her jet-black long hair tied into two playful twin ponytails that swayed gently behind her head with her movements.
She sat there so brazenly, people coming and going around her—even several demon-hunting squad cultivators radiating powerful auras brushed right past her—yet it was as if none of them noticed this living, breathing person at all.
Even when the tea-shed's waiter passed by carrying tea, his gaze merely slid naturally past her spot, as though what sat there were nothing but a wisp of air.
In the thief-cultivator's trade, this was called "Dust-Merging."
The girl was named Nuo Tao.
In the Northern Territory's thief-cultivator circles, perhaps no one had heard her name, but if her lineage were mentioned, likely all thief-cultivators would have to call her Senior Sister.
Because she was orthodox.
She was the only one in all the Nine Provinces who could be called the orthodox heir of the "Myriad-Theft Immortal Sovereign" lineage.
All the world knew thief-cultivators were as numerous as carp crossing a river, yet none knew that this path of "theft" also had its source and stream.
Ordinary thief-cultivators had merely learned some superficial escape arts, getting by on the wild-path methods of slipping through doors, prying locks, and petty pilfering.
What they stole was gold and silver; what they filched was dharma artifacts—low in taste, crude in method. But the Myriad-Theft Immortal Sovereign lineage cultivated the "stealing of heaven's secrets, the filching of cause and effect."
Rumor held that the patriarch named the Myriad-Theft Immortal Sovereign was a great cultivator above the Sixth Realm. The venerable old man had once said:
"The Dao of Heaven diminishes the excess to supplement the deficient; the Dao of Theft takes what you can't use anyway and lets me make some use of it too."
This lineage's inheritance had never looked at talent, only at fate and wit.
Nuo Tao's master was the current gate-master of this Myriad-Theft Gate.
Speaking of that master of hers, even Nuo Tao herself found it rather baffling.
That old man's skills clearly reached through heaven and earth, yet he was an old prankster, and—just to get on swimmingly in this trade—had even given himself an earth-shaking, era-dazzling Daoist title: "Dunno."
Yes—the "Dunno" Daoist.
At first Nuo Tao had thought her master was just brushing her off, until later she came to understand the "deep foresight" behind the name.
It was so that, after stealing the sect-guarding treasures of the great sects, when those furious sect masters and elders grabbed passersby and roared "Who stole my treasure?!"... everyone could only answer with blank faces: "Dunno!"
"Who was it?!"
"Dunno!"
Every time she pictured that scene, Nuo Tao felt her master was simply a naming genius, having grasped the very essence of "the great thief leaves no form."
As the final disciple of the "Dunno" Daoist, Nuo Tao had naturally inherited the true teachings deeply. Not only had she inherited the sect's set of ghost-and-god-confounding escape arts, but she had also trained a pair of [Myriad-Theft Spirit Pupils] said to be able to "peer up to the azure heavens and down to the Yellow Springs."
Her descent to Snowfall Pass this time had originally been to complete a tempering mission for her sect—
To find the other half of a token that opened a secret realm.
But after staking out this Barter Market for three days and three nights, she hadn't seen the token, so out of sheer boredom, she'd disguised herself as someone else and, under an alias, stolen the Myriad Gold Pavilion's twelve dharma artifacts.
It wasn't that she was that short of money—her hands had simply itched—and she truly couldn't stand that sort of black-hearted merchant guild profiteering off war... Her master had once said this counted as minor karma; stealing for fun was no big deal, so long as she returned it afterward.
Of course, if she were short of money, not returning it would count as taking on this karma.
As for what effect this karma would have... her master hadn't said either.
Nuo Tao pursed her lips, put away the copper coins in her hand, and was about to move to another spot to keep up her stakeout.
Suddenly, her gaze fixed.
Amid that bustling crowd, a figure clad in a dark cloak, carrying bags large and small, broke into her line of sight without any warning.
"Eh?"
Nuo Tao blinked, and those previously somewhat bored eyes instantly lit up.
S-such a good-looking fellow!
Although the man wasn't deliberately showy—his aura was even restrained—that upright bearing and that profile, gentle as jade even in the wind and snow, still made Nuo Tao, a severe "looks-obsessed" type, unable to look away.
It was a clean, pure handsomeness utterly out of place in this rugged frontier pass.
Nuo Tao instinctively swallowed, and the little figure named "reserve" in her heart was instantly kicked flying a couple of li away.
However, as the orthodox heir of the Myriad-Theft Gate, her professional discipline reclaimed the high ground the very next second.
"No, no! Nuo Tao, you have to stay calm! Master said the better-looking the man, the more likely he is to deceive... and besides, it's work hours right now!"
She took a deep breath, forcibly pulled her gaze from Gu Chengming's face, and shifted it instead to the inconspicuous storage pouch at his waist.
This was a thief-cultivator's instinct.
It was also the most direct way to "assess" a cultivator's wealth and depth: "Let me see just what treasures this fellow's got hidden on him."
She used no spiritual fluctuation at all, merely narrowing her eyes slightly, and deep within her pupils an extremely fine golden thread seemed to flash and vanish.
[Myriad-Theft Spirit Pupils], open!
In that instant, the previously utterly ordinary storage pouch seemed to turn transparent in her eyes.
Layer upon layer of intricate seals, like peeled onion skins, unfolded one by one under her gaze, then were effortlessly penetrated by that special pupil-art of hers.
No alarm was triggered, no spiritual backlash stirred.
It was like a gaze passing through the water's surface to see directly the fish swimming at the bottom.
"Whoa, quite a fortune..."
Nuo Tao clicked her tongue inwardly.
Her gaze passing through the ordinary pills, spirit-stones, and changes of clothing, she saw some rather interesting things.
A few talismans radiating Fourth-Realm sword intent... a great heap of snacks and pastries that were obviously just bought...
And so, so, so many dharma artifacts and Dharma Swords!
Such a net worth made even Nuo Tao click her tongue.
However, just as her gaze was about to move away from that corner—
An extremely faint yet unusually distinctive ghostly glow suddenly caught her attention.
The thing was stuffed in the deepest part of the storage pouch, pressed under a few odds and ends; had her eyes not been most sensitive to "treasure-aura," she might truly have overlooked it.
Nuo Tao focused her gaze, and her vision passing through the clutter, she finally saw the thing's true appearance clearly.
It was a palm-sized token.
It was a dark-iron color all over, its material archaic and heavy, and on the front of the token was glaringly carved the image of an Azure Luan with wings spread as if about to fly, two tiny rubies set in the Azure Luan's eyes.
"That's..."
Nuo Tao's body abruptly stiffened, those large eyes fixed dead-still on that image.
"Mystic Demon Iron... Azure Luan pattern... red-stone eyes..."
That enormous, delighted surprise—of searching in vain through worn-out iron shoes only to find it without any effort at all—nearly made her leap straight up from her chair.
She took a deep breath, forcing down the excitement in her heart, and her right hand—which had been hidden in her sleeve all along—reached out, trembling slightly.
In her fair palm, there was clutched, plain to see, a token extremely similar to the one in Gu Chengming's storage pouch.
Only, the one in her hand was not dark-iron colored, but presented a warm, gentle milky-white, its material like jade yet not jade.
And carved upon that token was not an Azure Luan, but a Fire Phoenix surging through a sea of clouds.
Two tokens—one black, one white; one Luan, one Phoenix.
"Found it..."
PS: Next chapter we interrogate Nuo Tao to get the key—a little spoiler so no one spirals into a slippery-slope:
Everything Nuo Tao steals has to be returned. Even if she stole those twelve dharma artifacts and returns them, she still owes a minor karma (clearly described earlier), and this minor karma also needs to be repaid.
By the same logic, if she really did steal little Gu's key (of course there's absolutely no chance of that—it's purely hypothetical!), then after she opens the secret realm, she'd still owe a major karma, and would have to share what she gains inside the secret realm with little Gu (this is just an example here!).
And what she stole wasn't front-line supplies either—it was the dharma artifacts of a trading house profiteering off the war.
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