Chapter Forty: The Banquet

“They’re all medicines that replenish energy and nurture the spirit.”

The old Daoist carefully opened a packet of medicine, gently pinched a bit of the powder, sniffed it under his nose, and his eyes lit up.

“Thirteen packets of Energy and Blood Replenishing Powder, nine of Tortoiseshell Pills, and six of the Peach Blossom Spirit Elixir. Daoist, I’ll give you four hundred and seventy coins for the lot—how does that sound?”

“Deal!”

Lu Qian nodded. Elixirs that boost cultivation are always in high demand, no matter where you go.

Outside the sect, their value doubles.

Converted to Daoist merit, that was forty-seven points—comparable to the gains he made in Baiyang City.

Having a skilled craft really does make money come quickly.

(The profits from Baiyang City were actually quite high, but they were divided among five people, so each share seemed smaller.)

The old man called over an attendant to carry the bundle to the back courtyard.

“Are you an apothecary? Our Treasure Pavilion is backed by the Ma family. Would you consider joining us?”

The old man suddenly extended an invitation.

A Daoist who’s also an alchemist is a rare talent wherever you go.

The quality of the medicines was impressive—worth any price to recruit someone of his skill.

“Is the Ma family one of the three great clans of the Dark Night?” Lu Qian asked.

“Of course. The Ma family boasts an ancestor at the late stage of Qi Refinement, and two elders at the middle stage. They’re a first-class power in this city.”

The Ma family practiced the art of spirit invocation, worshiping five celestial beings.

The Fox Immortal, the Snake Immortal, the Yellow Weasel Immortal, the White-Haired Hedgehog Immortal, the Grey Mouse Immortal, and so on.

Most practitioners like to embellish their backgrounds—even the Netherview Monastery was not immune to this custom.

They called them immortals, but in truth, they were merely mountain spirits and monsters.

“No need. I have some minor skill in alchemy myself, hardly worthy of such an offer.” Lu Qian declined politely.

The old man did not take offense and smiled, “If you change your mind, the Treasure Pavilion will always welcome you.”

“Do you, by chance, sell alchemical recipes here?” Lu Qian asked.

Business being his forte, the old man sat up straighter. “What recipes are you looking to trade for?”

“The Fire Thunder Elixir, the Thousand Blossoms Heart-Piercing Powder, and the Water-Repelling Pill—one recipe each.”

The Fire Thunder Elixir was likely something akin to black powder, the Thousand Blossoms Heart-Piercing Powder could serve as a poison, and the Water-Repelling Pill might come in handy at some point.

Moreover, these could be sold at the sect’s underground markets.

So far, Lu Qian hadn’t seen anyone else offering such recipes.

Getting out and about really does broaden one’s horizons and brings new experiences.

“Certainly—one hundred coins per recipe.”

“By the way, do you have a map of the Nether Valley?” Lu Qian inquired.

Since the Ma family was one of the three great clans, they ought to know the lay of the land.

“I’ll need to consult the family head about that.”

At that moment, a servant whispered something in the old man’s ear.

“Daoist friend, our family head wishes to meet you. Would you be willing?”

The old man turned toward Lu Qian.

“Of course,” Lu Qian agreed, planning to inquire about the Nether Valley as well.

After all, this was the true purpose of his visit.

He followed the attendant through a tranquil courtyard.

The night air on the terrace was cool as water.

The garden was brightly lit, lush with rare trees and blooming with exotic flowers. A clear stream wound its way through the thick foliage, tumbling over stones.

Elegant pavilions flanked either side, with winding paths meandering through dense shade.

The entire place was decorated with remarkable opulence.

At the center of the lake, in a pavilion, a group of Daoists in various robes sat drinking and laughing in lively company.

An elderly man with silvery hair glanced up, tapped his foot lightly, and glided effortlessly over the water.

“Welcome, Daoist friend, to my humble abode. I am Ma Heng. May I know your name?” Ma Heng cupped his hands in greeting, his gaze lingering on Lu Qian with a hint of surprise.

“My surname is Li, given name Lin—no need for formalities.”

During the earlier transaction, Ma Heng had been entertaining several Daoist friends. When his attendant brought forth a batch of quality medicine, Ma Heng had expected the maker to be a seasoned elder. He hadn’t anticipated someone so young.

What’s more, this body before him held not a trace of natural vitality, appearing as some kind of external manifestation.

Perhaps a disciple sent out by a great sect to gain experience.

Thoughts flashed through Ma Heng’s mind, but his smile did not waver. “Please, Daoist friend, be seated. I have a few friends here; I hope you don’t mind their company?”

“Not at all. Pray, introduce me.”

The two drifted together to the lakeside pavilion.

“Allow me to introduce Jia Daoist,” Ma Heng said, pointing to a middle-aged man shrouded in chilling yin energy.

“Well met, Daoist friend,” Jia Daoist said, bowing with hands clasped. He exuded the aura of one who practiced ghost cultivation.

“This is Daoist Huang Yue.”

A woman in a crimson palace gown, radiating allure and charm, greeted him with a captivating glance. Her every gesture seemed designed to entrance the soul.

“And Daoist Chu Xing,”

A burly, bearded man nodded in greeting.

The rest were subordinates or disciples of these individuals.

“This is Daoist Li Lin, an apothecary,” Ma Heng introduced.

“Such talent at a young age,” Jia Daoist remarked politely.

Lu Qian took his seat beside Huang Yue, who offered him a gentle smile.

“With so many distinguished guests gathered, let us drink and enjoy the dancers!” Ma Heng clapped his hands.

A small boat drifted over.

A group of dancers, clad in translucent gauze, their graceful figures dimly revealed, brought with them a waft of fragrance as they began their performance amidst the guests.

The music was ethereal, the wine rich and sweet, the air thick with perfume—a scene akin to paradise.

The dancers were clearly well-trained; every smile and movement enchanted the senses.

A few impatient men pulled the dancers into their laps, hands wandering freely.

Most of the guests paid it no mind, long accustomed to such scenes.

“Daoist friend, you seem somewhat distracted. Is something on your mind?” Ma Heng asked quietly, holding his wine cup.

“I was thinking about the Nether Valley,” Lu Qian replied with a wry smile. “Besides, this sort of environment isn’t really my style.”

“That’s easily remedied. I’ll have someone bring you the map you need,” Ma Heng said, draining his cup. “Enjoy the wine while it lasts! I used to be as disciplined as you, but what’s the point? Cold and lifeless immortality is nothing compared to savoring your prime.”

In the beginning, most cultivators are full of ambition.

They believe they can climb to the summit.

But as time passes, most come to realize they are destined for mediocrity, and so they make peace with themselves and begin to indulge in pleasure.

Lu Qian merely smiled and said nothing.

“Daoist Li Lin, would you care to join me later for a little adventure?” Huang Yue leaned close, her red lips brushing Lu Qian’s ear as she whispered, her breath warm.

“No, I have pressing matters to attend to,” Lu Qian replied coolly.

There were those in his sect who practiced dual cultivation, but it was for the sake of cultivation, not desire.

These people sought nothing but pleasure, which was a lesser path—slaves to their own instincts.

They had been blinded by wine and women, losing the discipline and ambition of true cultivators.

From the moment he entered, Lu Qian had remained vigilant, silently forming seals, ready to act at a moment’s notice.

Judging by their demeanor, if Lu Qian were to make a move, he estimated he could wipe out sixty percent of those present.