Heaven and the Netherworld

When Qin Chuan heard Zhang Huai's question, his smile faded, he set down his wine cup, and his expression grew somber.

Zhu Ran slammed the table in anger, causing the wine to splash from nearby vessels, droplets falling with a loud slap and wetting a section of the table, running down its edge and legs to the floor, reflecting the silent faces of the three men in the room.

“Brother Qin, if it hadn’t been for Zhang Huai’s luck, you wouldn’t be seeing him today!” Zhu Ran finished speaking and began tearing at Zhang Huai’s clothes.

Zhang Huai did not resist. The weather was hot, and he wore only a thin shirt, which was quickly ripped off.

Upon seeing this, Qin Chuan’s expression darkened, almost dripping with anger.

Zhang Huai’s left chest, near his heart, was mottled with purple-black bruises, surrounded by small wounds. Had the blow been even slightly off, it might have struck his heart.

With a loud thud, he slapped a dented, rust-stained piece of purple-gold iron onto the table. “If this iron piece hadn’t shielded my chest that day, Lei Ya’s hand would have pierced straight through me!”

The bruise matched the iron piece exactly.

“Rest assured, this grudge will be avenged, sooner or later!” Qin Chuan bit his lip, murder already in his heart.

The next day, when Qin Chuan returned to the Sword Lodge, it was already late.

Hungry, he found some game, skinned and bled it, removed the organs, and roasted it over the fire, eating it half-cooked.

He paid no mind to the faint taste of blood in his mouth, his thoughts occupied with his own troubles.

His cultivation was far too low; no matter what happened in the future, this period before his growth was fraught with danger. One misstep, and he could perish before his time.

Finishing the last bone, Qin Chuan dug a hole, buried the leftover skin and bones, cleared the campfire, his mind already made up.

He still remembered, in the last moments of his struggle with Lei Ya, the place name he heard as he lost consciousness—Biluofeng!

Qin Chuan knew well what Biluofeng was.

The peak was favored by low-ranking disciples of the Green Mountain Sect, a place where everything could be found, a marketplace in all but name.

For pill cultivators, it was even more than that. The market thrived because of the many pill cultivators who gathered there.

Biluofeng was adjacent to Yellow Spring Valley. The valley was rich in earth fire, an ideal place for alchemy.

As for Steward Wang, Qin Chuan had a vague suspicion about his identity, but that could wait—he needed to refine what he required first.

He hurried on, paying no heed to the scenery flanking his path, inspiration already blooming in his mind for what he intended to create.

When he finally came to himself, the surroundings had changed: the lush green woods had dwindled to a few scattered trees, their branches sparse and covered in black and yellow growths.

Entering the mouth of the valley, he saw gloomy skies; the rocky mountains on either side were sharp-edged, with occasional pale weeds growing in the cracks.

It seemed the place hadn’t seen rain in ages, dust covering the roof tiles of the shops lining the valley. A few steps further in, waves of heat rolled out from deep within, scorching his face and forcing him to squint.

He accidentally inhaled the foul air, his nose and throat itching, and coughed for a long while before he felt better.

Qin Chuan scanned the shops on either side. Finding nothing he needed, he moved deeper in until his face brightened with joy.

The building before him was not grand, but it bustled with people. Above, a black plaque with gold lettering read—Jade Source Pavilion.

This hall was different from the others; it was run by the authorities and occupied the best location. Just nearby was a plaza, surrounded by well-managed shops beyond the ordinary.

Qin Chuan glanced around and entered the Jade Source Pavilion.

Inside, the facilities and goods were plentiful; many of the herbs he needed were available.

He nodded inwardly but did not select anything. His biggest problem remained—he had no spirit stones.

But that was not difficult; the identity of an inner sect disciple was not given in vain.

“Sir, here is my waist token. Please give me the remainder of this year’s quota all at once,” Qin Chuan said, respectfully handing over his token to the steward before him.

The steward, a middle-aged man, seemed surprised and looked Qin Chuan over. “There’s still over five months left this year. Are you sure? If you break through and claim your quota later, the amount will be much greater!”

“A little less is no matter. Please exchange the Qi-Absorbing Pills, Purifying Powder, and half the spirit stones for Star Dust Grass, Sea Dust Grass...” Qin Chuan thanked the steward for his kind reminder.

He took the bulging cloth bag the steward handed him, checked it briefly, and placed it in his storage pouch, drawing curious glances from nearby disciples.

The higher one’s cultivation, the greater the monthly quota.

Only inner sect disciples could claim the annual quota in advance; outer sect disciples could not. Unfortunately, Qin Chuan’s current cultivation was only at the first layer of Qi Refining; if he broke through again this year, he could not make up the difference.

There were many inner sect disciples in Yellow Spring Valley, but few, like Qin Chuan, claimed nearly half a year’s quota at once.

No one paid him much mind; a curious glance was all, then each returned to their own business.

Qin Chuan had no choice; his oddity had consumed his spirit stones and pills, and in retrospect, he could only blame his youth.

But the oddity had indeed helped him greatly. When he first obtained it, Master Su called it the Mysterious Pouch Medicine Book, and it lived up to its name. Qin Chuan learned much about pill-making from chatting with it, lacking only in practical experience.

When Qin Chuan left the pavilion, the steward muttered to himself, “Strange, Star Dust Grass? Sea Dust Grass... Is this for Fasting Pills? But something doesn’t add up...”

Qin Chuan had no obligation to answer the steward’s questions. He exited Jade Source Pavilion and made his way to the square.

The square had been carved out with great effort, hollowing out the mountains on either side to create this open space.

The mountainside seemed to have been sliced flat by a sharp blade, densely paved with white crystal stones—Qin Chuan knew these as Eye-Ear Stones.

Such stones were common, but a slab over ten yards both ways, laid seamlessly, was a first.

Eye-Ear Stones had no special effect; they were typically used for projecting light and shadow. This enormous crystal screen was obviously inscribed with a massive array, displaying the information of the furnace cauldrons in Yellow Spring Valley.

The cauldrons here were all powered by earth fire, making the area extremely hot.

Earth fire was common and easier to control than other furnace flames, requiring less skill. That was why Qin Chuan came to Yellow Spring Valley, rather than Fuluan or Biluofeng.

The stone screen was divided into four areas—A, B, C, D—with cauldron prices descending in steps. Even the cheapest in Area A cost much more than those in Area B.

Information occasionally shifted above, showing that available cauldrons were being claimed.

Qin Chuan was new, had never refined a single pill, so choosing a cauldron from Areas A or B would be a waste.

He didn’t spend much effort deciding; in just a few breaths, considering his finances, he stepped up to a middle-aged man in a steward’s robe standing beneath the stone screen.

Three or four others stood alongside, each with a line.

The process required little paperwork, so the queue moved quickly; soon it was Qin Chuan’s turn.

“Area D, number thirty-two...” After providing his details, he handed over fifteen spirit stones.

“Take your stone token. If you lose it, the ten spirit stone deposit won’t be refunded. Next...” The man, barely willing to waste a word, handed Qin Chuan the token coldly.

Qin Chuan was about to ask for directions, when a burly man behind shoved him aside. Helpless, he tried infusing the token with spiritual energy to see if it held any secrets.

To his surprise, it slowly revealed a route map. Comparing it, he realized it was a simple map of Yellow Spring Valley, with the destination marked as Area D, cauldron thirty-two.

The token was clearly made of Eye-Ear Stone, and the route ended at the designated cauldron.

Now that he knew where to go, Qin Chuan memorized the route, stowed the token in his storage pouch, and turned to leave.

The journey was neither long nor short; after winding through three or four turns, he came upon a stone stele.

It was hard to say how long the stele had stood there; cracks marred its surface, but the vermillion ‘D’ character carved into the black-and-yellow stone was still vivid.

Trees were even scarcer here, only a few visible near Biluofeng’s side. At all times, one had to use spiritual energy to shield nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. The mountain’s stones were blackened by the heat of earth fire.

Qin Chuan rented the cauldron for half a month; excluding the ten spirit stone deposit, it cost only five spirit stones, nearly all he owned, but still a bargain.

Pill cultivation was built on resources; a single pill could fetch a sky-high price, so five spirit stones were nothing.

Had Qin Chuan used all fifteen spirit stones for cultivation, breaking through to the second layer of Qi Refining would not be difficult, but then his plans would be impossible. He had grand ambitions and would not sit idly by, waiting for death. Now, only five spirit stones remained in his storage pouch.

If not for Zhang Huai’s injury and the Qi Refining trial, Qin Chuan might have been content to stay in the Sword Lodge and cultivate. But now, playing it safe was no longer wise; he had to take risks with what advantages he had.

Qin Chuan arrived at the place marked on the token.

Before him was a heavy stone door, beside it a recessed spot, perfectly matching the token in his storage pouch.

Without hesitation, he took out the token and gently placed it into the recess.