Both start in hell: but their talents are multiplied a hundredfold.

The flower fairies were ashen-faced, huddled in the corner of their cages, possessing the curves of a woman's body, yet clearly plants.

One of the bolder ones looked up at the crowd that was gathering around it, then immediately buried its head back down.

The burly man's stall was surrounded by layers of people, including martial artists dressed in coarse cloth and short jackets, as well as monks holding whisks. Their eyes were shining, just like chefs picking out pork at the market.

"Hiss! If we buy this flower demon and cultivate it using the 'Heaven and Earth Righteous Qi Method,' it'll probably be bedridden for three days!" a monk exclaimed in surprise.

"Brother, you are absolutely right. Directly absorbing it would be too wasteful," a refined-looking martial artist nodded in agreement.

The owner of the next stall, seeing this, was immediately displeased. He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Old Zhang, you dare to sell this flower demon for five thousand taels?"

"Gentlemen, take a look at my goods!"

"This is a genuine, century-old vengeful ghost from Beiman Mountain, brimming with resentment. A single breath of it, obtained using the 'Heaven and Earth Righteous Qi Method,' is equivalent to three months of arduous cultivation!"

"Starting bid: 8,000 taels; highest bidder wins!"

The vengeful ghost, bound like a dumpling by numerous talismans, dangled from a wooden pole, swaying precariously, muttering curses: "I've cultivated in Beiman Mountain for 120 years, and I've eaten at least 80 to 100 scholars, and now you filthy scum are selling me off in the street!"

"I curse you all..."

Before he finished speaking, several burly monks with full beards from the Sichuan-Chongqing region caught his eye!

The vengeful ghost, who had been there for centuries, was dressed as a military general from a previous dynasty. He was broad-shouldered and strong, exuding a heroic and imposing aura, somewhat resembling Dong Zhuo, the tyrant who set fire to Chang'an in history.

"Good! Good! Good!"

"Don't even mention eight thousand taels, even if it were ten thousand taels, I'd still have to come up with it!"

"Such a beauty!"

"Even if I exhaust all my possessions and sacrifice half of my cultivation, so what?!"

"I must win!"

Upon hearing this, many mages and martial artists distanced themselves from the few mages from the Sichuan and Chongqing region.

"What the hell! You guys have such heavy tastes?!"

"That's too ruthless, is that even allowed?"

"Haha, you wicked ghost, you're going to be living the good life now!"

A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd, while the hanging ghost recalled the rumors circulating among demons about some perverted humans.

The already pale-faced ghost turned even paler.

It glanced several times at the monk from the Sichuan-Chongqing region, whose eyes were brimming with hearts, and then said with difficulty, "Gurgle..."

"Kill me!"

Upon hearing this, the surrounding practitioners burst into laughter.

"There's going to be some excitement over there in the arena!"

These words immediately caused an uproar among the surrounding crowd.

A large group of people rushed over.

In the center of Zhengqi City, there were three large arenas, surrounded by thick wooden fences. Outside the fences, there was a dense crowd of martial artists and mages watching the spectacle.

These three arenas were originally intended for cultivators to spar and compete, but within three days of the city opening, ninety percent of the fights that took place on the arenas were due to disputes over ownership of demons.

At this moment, on the largest arena in the middle, two people are locked in a fierce battle.

The man on the left wields a large, ghost-headed saber. His swordplay is fierce and sharp, each strike accompanied by a whistling sound. Clearly, his internal strength cultivation has reached the level of a third-rate martial artist.

The one on the right had his hands empty, forming a hand seal. His body was filled with righteous energy, and talismans flew and swirled in the air like living things, seeking an opening to attack his opponent.

The cheers from the crowd below the stage were deafening.

"Chop him! Chop him! Wang Mazi, your knife skills are so weak, didn't you eat last night?!"

"Master Li, what skill! If that fire talisman had been just a fraction off, it would have burned Wang Mazi's crotch!"

"Hey, hey, hey! Wang Mazi, don't dodge! Face him head-on!"

A long table was set up below the arena, with writing brushes, ink, paper and inkstones on it. An old man dressed in a blue robe, who looked like an accountant, was engrossed in writing.

A wooden sign stood beside the table, which read: "The 37th Arena Battle in Righteous City, the stake: one male snake demon, the bettor has signed the bet."

On the other side below the arena, Yan Chixia, holding the Xuanyuan Divine Sword, watched the scene before him speechlessly.

Standing beside him were Commander Zuo and Ning Caichen, each with their own fascinating expressions.

Yan Chixia's beard trembled slightly. Everything that was happening in this righteous city before him made him feel a kind of indescribable absurdity.

Demons were being sold in the street, and cultivators fought fiercely over a male snake demon.

"Damn it..." Yan Chixia opened his mouth, then closed it again, then opened it again, finally managing to utter only a few words.

Zuo Qianhu was much calmer than him.

This former imperial commander, now dressed in a sharp black outfit with a standard military saber hanging at his waist, is watching the fight on the arena with great interest.

During this time, under Shen Jue's influence, Commander Zuo resigned from his military officer position and instead helped Shen Jue spread the "Heaven and Earth Righteous Qi Method".

As a result, Zuo Qianhu's eyes became more alert.

He even pulled out a handful of melon seeds from his pocket, cracking them open while commenting, "Wang Mazi's knife skills are based on combat techniques from the military camp, but he's modified a few things to make them more flexible."

"That Master Li's spells are too flashy. The outcome should have been decided long ago in actual combat. He just wanted to show off and dragged it out until now."

Ning Caichen watched the fight with great interest, even though the two men's cultivation levels were not particularly high.

Long ago, Shen Jue actually crafted a magical artifact that could store ghosts and gave it to Ning Caichen.

The ritual object contained four female ghosts, including Nie Xiaoqian.

So, after a period of adjustment, Ning Caichen truly earned the title of master of controlling ghosts, and he even asked Shen Jue to upgrade the magical artifact that stored the ghosts.

With a touch of mischievousness, Shen Jue handed a banner of ten thousand ghosts—no, a banner of the human emperor—to Ning Caichen.

Ning Caichen lived up to expectations. Having tasted the sweetness of the poison, he managed to capture at least a hundred female ghosts and put them into the Emperor's Banner, thanks to the cultivation he gained from Shen Jue's enlightenment.

Ning Caichen's biggest daily worry is deciding which female ghost to choose.

For this reason, Yan Chixia had repeatedly advised Ning Caichen to restrain himself.

Even if Ning Caichen went to find some humans, Yan Chixia could understand, but what does it mean to play with female ghosts all day long?

Shen Jue found it amusing, believing that Ning Caichen had even achieved what that boring guy Shen Jue from the horror movie had failed to accomplish.

"They didn't fight because of their different positions."

"It's already quite good that they're fighting just to fight over demons," Ning Caichen said, comforting Yan Chixia, who couldn't bear to watch any longer.

Just then, a huge commotion came from not far away, interrupting their conversation.

On the main street of Zhengqi City, a grand procession was slowly moving forward.

Leading the group were eighteen Arhats clad in golden monk robes, each exuding the imposing aura of a Grandmaster-level martial artist.

They were carrying a huge Buddha carriage, on which sat a figure leisurely.

The figure was dressed in a moon-white long robe, with a handsome and gentle face and a faint smile on his lips. He was completely detached from worldly affairs, yet he silenced tens of thousands of people on the street at the same time.

Tens of thousands of martial artists and mages turned their heads in unison, their eyes fixed on that figure with fervent passion.

Someone started it, and a deafening roar erupted from the crowd.

"Master Shen Jue!"