Immortal Path in the Palm of a Mortal's Hand

Chen Fan did not rush to make a move. Instead, he walked back and forth twice from east to west along the narrow street, which was about a hundred feet long and had only about thirty shops. Every step he took was steady, and although his gaze seemed to sweep across the area casually, he actually took in everything around him.

To the left was a magical artifact shop with a plaque reading "Hundred Refinements Hall," its interior displaying ordinary items like swords, knives, hooks, and forks, their spiritual light dim. To the right was a pill shop, two bronze furnaces, each about half a person's height, emitting wisps of smoke from their entrances, the bitter smell of medicine mingling in the air. Further on was a shop specializing in materials from demonic beasts, where a dark-skinned, muscular man squatted at the entrance, skillfully skinning a low-level demonic beast resembling a wild boar with a sharp, ox-ear-shaped knife. The sticky sound of the blade slicing through flesh and tendons, accompanied by a heavy stench of blood and mutton, attracted several low-level carrion-eating demonic insects that stirred restlessly in the shadows.

Chen Fan's gaze lingered on the shop signs of those buying and selling pills. He subtly memorized every detail: which shopkeeper's eyes darted around, which was gossipy and chatty; which shopkeeper's gaze was sharp as a hawk, meticulously inspecting the goods; which shop offered fair prices; and which shop seemed to have the backing of a sect leader or a Foundation Establishment cultivator… This wasn't a supernatural ability he had cultivated, but rather an instinct honed through years of struggling for survival in the dog-eat-dog world of Spirit Beast Mountain.

Ultimately, he narrowed it down to three companies.

The first shop was located in the most inconspicuous corner at the end of the street. The storefront was only about ten feet wide, without even a decent signboard; only the words "Collecting Pills" were crookedly carved with a sharp tool on the weathered doorframe. The shopkeeper was an elderly man over fifty, with gray hair and beard, his cultivation only at the seventh or eighth level of Qi Refining. His eyelids drooped, and he looked drowsy. Chen Fan stepped inside and handed over four Qi Refining Pills. The old man didn't even lift his eyelids. His withered fingers picked up the pills, rubbed them between his fingertips for a moment, then brought them close to his nose to sniff. Without a word, he counted out twenty low-grade spirit stones and pushed them over. Fair price, no haggling, no questions asked—exactly what Chen Fan needed at that moment.

The second shop was a mid-range medicine shop called "Tongchuntang" in the middle of the street. The shopkeeper was a woman in her forties, with a cultivation level of the ninth level of Qi Refining. Her eyes gleamed with a shrewdness typical of merchants. She took the three Qi Refining pills Chen Fan handed her, placed them one by one in her palm, first observing their color and roundness, then bringing them close to smell their aroma, and finally even lightly weighing them with her fingertips before raising her eyes and quoting a price of fifteen spirit stones. Chen Fan remained expressionless, nodded, accepted the spirit stones, turned and left without lingering.

The third shop was "Huichun Pavilion," the largest and most impressively decorated in the market. A two-story building, it had two Qi Refining stage employees standing guard at the entrance, their eyes warily scanning those entering and leaving. The interior was elegantly furnished, filled with the gentle fragrance of sandalwood. The person who greeted Chen Fan was an elderly pharmacist with a goatee and a lean face. Although his cultivation was also at the Qi Refining stage, his method of examining pills was extremely skillful. He took three Qi Refining pills, first carefully observing their texture and luster, then deeply inhaling their aroma. Finally, he took out a silver needle as thin as a cow's hair and extremely lightly scraped off almost invisible powder from the surface of the pills, savoring it on his tongue. After a moment, a hint of satisfaction flashed in his eyes, and he neatly arranged fifteen low-grade spirit stones on the counter.

Ten Qi Refining Pills can be exchanged for fifty low-grade spirit stones.

Chen Fan stored all the spirit stones in his storage bag, then turned and left the Rejuvenation Pavilion. He didn't leave the market immediately, but instead wandered aimlessly through the streets. Sometimes he would pause for a moment in front of a stall selling low-level talismans or ores, and sometimes he would quicken his pace through the crowd. However, his divine sense always maintained a minimum level of outward projection, like invisible tentacles, keenly sensing any abnormal spiritual energy or malicious prying gazes within a few feet behind him.

After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, and confirming that there was no "tail" attached, he quietly turned into a secluded and narrow path on the side of the market, his figure quickly disappearing into the deeper night.

Having completely left the market area, Chen Fan no longer walked. With a thought, a low-grade flying sword, dull and lacking in spiritual light, flew out of his storage bag and hovered about a foot off the ground. He leaped onto it, channeling his magic power into the sword. The flying sword emitted a low hum and carried him close to the treetops, speeding towards Fire Cloud Peak.

A night breeze swept across his face, carrying the unique coolness of the mountain forest and the scent of earth. Chen Fan hunched slightly, his gray robe fluttering in the wind. Beneath his feet stretched a range of undulating mountains, their shadows darkening in the night, while occasionally a star pierced through the clouds, casting a few rays of light. Although flying on a magical artifact was several times faster than walking, the consumption of mana was substantial. With his Qi Refining Stage 10 cultivation, maintaining this speed for thirty miles would deplete nearly 20% of the mana in his dantian. If it weren't for the chaotic atmosphere around the market, where walking would easily make him a target, he would have preferred to expend more energy on foot. But now that he was safe, leaving this dangerous place as quickly as possible was his top priority. Although flying on a sword consumed mana, it minimized the risks, a calculation he understood clearly.

During the flight, Chen Fan was simultaneously controlling his flying sword and silently calculating his spirit stone income and expenditure:

Refining a maximum of three Qi Refining Pills per day would yield ninety pills per month. At the market average price of five spirit stones per pill, this would amount to four hundred and fifty low-grade spirit stones.

However, this is only a small number.

The path of cultivation is one of constant expenditure, never input. He himself needs Qi Refining Pills for cultivation, at least twenty per month, a fixed expense of one hundred spirit stones. While activating the mysterious vortex mark saves him the cost of a pill furnace, spiritual fire, and numerous auxiliary medicines, the intense drain on his spiritual energy after each refining requires half a day of meditation to recover. This inability to cultivate during recovery is itself a huge time cost and a hidden drain. Add to that the additional spiritual herbs and materials needed to aid cultivation and break through bottlenecks… and the spirit stones he can truly accumulate each month are only around two hundred.

Two hundred low-grade spirit stones! For a Qi Refining stage cultivator struggling at the bottom, this is a "huge sum" that would make anyone envious, their heart race, and even take risks. An ordinary cultivator would be considered lucky if they could save up thirty or forty spirit stones after a year of hard work.

However, what Chen Fan sought was still a drop in the ocean.

A decent cultivation technique that can enhance one's spiritual sense, even if it's just a fragment, would cost at least several hundred spirit stones. If it were a complete inheritance, thousands or even tens of thousands of spirit stones would be common! Not to mention the bottomless pit of needs when attempting to break through to the Foundation Establishment stage: Foundation Establishment Pills, protective magic artifacts, life-saving talismans, pills to stabilize one's realm... aren't all of these enormous beasts that devour wealth?

In the distance, towards the main peak of Spirit Beast Mountain, several streaks of light of various colors suddenly pierced the deep night, moving at an astonishing speed, disappearing into the horizon in the blink of an eye. Those were high-level cultivators at the Foundation Establishment stage or above traveling, their speed far surpassing the sluggishness of the low-level flying sword beneath their feet.

Chen Fan withdrew his gaze, suppressed the barely perceptible ripples in his heart, focused his mind on controlling his flying sword, and continued flying towards Fire Cloud Peak. He flew extremely low, almost brushing past the canopy of the dense forest below, so that he could avoid the strong winds at high altitudes and any flying monsters that might be present, and also be able to disappear into the forest below at any time in case of unexpected events.

The thirty-mile journey was covered in just over an incense stick's time while flying on a sword. The familiar silhouette of Fire Cloud Peak, which appeared particularly solitary and steep in the night, was already in sight.