I tamed beasts and achieved immortality in the world of cultivation.

Meanwhile, in the Qian Kingdom.

The Palace of Dry Bones.

The night was as dark as ink, shrouding the entire palace complex of bones in gloom. The bone ornaments on the palace walls appeared even paler under the moonlight, resembling an ancient behemoth crouching in the valley, eerily terrifying.

Few people know that deep beneath this palace complex lies a hidden cave.

At this moment, in the center of the underground cave, a figure stood with his hands behind his back.

He was a middle-aged man with a square face and a dignified air between his brows. He wore a black robe embroidered with white bone patterns, a jade belt around his waist, and long hair that was loose. If it weren't for the gloomy surroundings, he would have looked quite like a celestial being.

If any disciples of the Bone Palace were here, they would surely recognize this person as their sect leader.

Qi Linxiao!

The founder of the Bone Palace, a late-stage Golden Core cultivator!

But at this moment, the expression on the face of the withered bone lord seemed a little off.

His eyes were open, but his pupils were unfocused, like a wax figure whose soul had been hollowed out, standing motionless and lifeless. His square face was expressionless, and even his breathing was barely perceptible, as if he had been dead for a long time, with only a shell remaining standing.

Above his head, a strange, illusory figure was slowly floating.

It was a phantom formed from grayish-white mist, about the size of a fist, shaped like a skull shrunk countless times. Two eerie green flames flickered in the skull's eye sockets, like two will-o'-the-wisps that might be extinguished at any moment.

The skeletal phantom hovered three feet above Qi Linxiao's head, its two eerie green flames fixed on the southern direction, as if they could pierce through mountains and rivers to see the distant, pale green crack in the sky.

"A thousand years..."

A hoarse, deep voice came from the skeletal phantom. The voice didn't seem to come from a throat, but rather from two pieces of dry bone rubbing together. It was grating, eerie, and sent chills down one's spine.

"After waiting for a thousand years... this moment has finally arrived. Cultivators of the Canglan Domain, just wait! Soon... I, the Holy Lord, will ascend to the peak of the Nascent Soul stage along with my world! At that time, I will definitely avenge the blood feud of a thousand years ago!"

The sound echoed through the cave, hitting the walls and making a buzzing sound.

The two eerie green flames flickered wildly, illuminating the entire cave with intermittent light, as if something indescribable was awakening from the abyss.

……

A month later.

Darkmoon Valley Black Market.

The afternoon sun was mostly blocked by the cliffs on both sides of the valley, making the valley dimly lit and filled with a damp, musty smell.

Chen Qing, dressed in a black robe and wearing a mask, walked out of Qibaozhai, feeling bitter inside.

"The Soul-Splitting Nail cost four hundred spirit stones..."

He touched the pitifully empty storage bag at his waist and sighed.

His trip to Darkmoon Valley was just a side trip; his real purpose was something else entirely.

A full month has passed since the opening of the No. 8 Abyss Secret Realm.

For the past month, Chen Qing has stayed at Half Moon Lake, cultivating and feeding his spirit beasts as usual, living a peaceful and stable life.

His original plan was simple—wait two more months, until he was about to leave Half Moon Lake, then go into the secret realm again to deal with Lu Chenxing's mission, and then leave, return to his sect to be transferred to Qinghe Lake, and continue to live his peaceful life.

Delicious.

But the plans couldn't keep up with the changes.

Yesterday, he was cultivating in the small building by Half Moon Lake when he suddenly felt a divine sense sweep over him. It felt like an invisible giant hand was gripping his neck, and the hairs on his body stood on end.

Chen Qing felt a chill run down his spine and immediately understood—Lu Chenxing was urging him.

Uncle Lu clearly thought he was being too passive, as a month had passed without any progress, so he couldn't help but personally remind him. So early this morning, he happily rode his Green Leaf Boat to Dark Moon Valley.

He's already bought the Soul-Splitting Nail; now he needs to buy information about the Abyss Secret Realm.

The situation inside secret realms is ever-changing, but the first people to enter can always bring back some useful information—which areas are safe, which areas have dangerous creatures, and which areas have good items. This is information that can be obtained at the cost of one's life.

Chen Qing wandered around between the stalls.

The vendors in the black market were still the same as before, all shrouded in black robes and masks, each one acting mysteriously, as if they couldn't bear to see the light of day. The goods displayed on the stalls were still the same: pills, talismans, magical artifacts, and spiritual materials, a mixture of genuine and fake, a real and fake mix.

Chen Qing walked around, stopping occasionally, his gaze sweeping over each stall owner.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

Not far ahead, a gaunt old man stood in front of a stall, talking quietly with the stall owner. The old man wore a drab gray Taoist robe and a bronze mask that revealed only his cloudy eyes; he looked completely unremarkable.

But Chen Qing recognized him.

A month ago, on the night the secret realm opened, he stood on the mountaintop and paid special attention to a few people who looked like they were not to be trifled with.

This gaunt old man was one of them.

At that time, the old man stood on another hilltop, his breathing steady and his eyes calm. He neither rushed into the crowd nor deliberately hid himself like those seasoned veterans. He just stood there indifferently, as if the "feast" in front of him had nothing to do with him.

But this kind of person is the real old fox!

However, Chen Qing did not chase after the old man who had walked away; his gaze fell on the stall owner.

The stall owner was a man of medium build, also dressed in a black robe and mask, obscuring his face, but his aura was around the seventh level of Qi Refining. He put away the spirit stones given to him by the withered old man and was about to pack up his stall when he looked up and saw Chen Qing already standing in front of it.

"What would you like to buy, sir?" The stall owner's voice was hoarse, and his age was hard to guess.

Chen Qing didn't beat around the bush, lowering his voice to ask, "Do you have any information about the Lin Yuan Secret Realm?"

The stall owner paused, glanced at him, and slowly said, "Yes. Two hundred spirit stones."

"Two hundred?" Chen Qing frowned. "I didn't see this price when that fellow Daoist bought it just now."

"That's a regular customer," the stall owner said casually. "First-time customers pay this price."

Chen Qing cursed inwardly for being heartless, but remained outwardly calm. He took out a small cloth bag from his pocket, weighed it in his hand, and the spirit stones clinked together, producing a crisp sound: "One hundred."

"One hundred and eighty," the stall owner bargained.

"One hundred and twenty, that's the most I can offer." Chen Qing shook his head. "It's just a piece of intelligence, not an exclusive piece of information. If you sell it to him, he can just resell it to someone else. I'm already being very generous by paying one hundred and twenty for it."

The stall owner remained silent for a few moments, seemingly weighing his options, before finally nodding and saying, "Deal."

Chen Qing handed over the cloth bag. The stall owner scanned it with his spiritual sense, nodded, took out a blank jade slip from under the stall, stuck it to his forehead, and after a moment, took it off and handed it to Chen Qing.

Chen Qing took the jade slip and scanned it with his spiritual sense. A dense array of information immediately flooded his mind.

The terrain inside the secret realm, the special creatures that exist there, the types and approximate numbers of monsters, and the unknown dangers in which places... all of this was recorded in fairly detailed terms, and there were even a few simple maps.

"One hundred and twenty spirit stones, that's worth it."

Chen Qing nodded inwardly, but remained outwardly calm, simply cupping his hands in a slight gesture of thanks.

The stall owner waved his hand and went to pack up his stall.

Chen Qing put the jade slip into his storage bag, then wandered around the black market to make sure no one was following him before leaving Dark Moon Valley, boarding the Green Leaf Boat, and flying westward.