Chapter 17: Longing

When the attendant checked his communication talisman, Qin Chengming instinctively glanced at it with his spiritual sense—surprisingly, he could see the contents. Reading the message, he realized that the attendant’s earlier signals to the two guards had not been malicious; they suspected him of theft!

Did he really need to steal? Anything he casually took from his spatial ring or his storage ring was far superior to that pile of rubbish. The only reason he was a bit short on funds was because he hadn’t figured out a proper way to earn spirit stones yet.

Qin Chengming considered how the attendant was so poor he couldn’t afford a decent communication talisman, instead using this inferior one visible to anyone. His irritation faded. No matter how hard up he was, he would never use such a privacy-less talisman.

He gave the attendant a glance filled with veiled pity and walked out of the shop.

Taihua Road was bustling, but every transaction required spirit stones. With only mundane gold, silver, and jewels left in his pouch, Qin Chengming could only wander with his empty purse, unable to buy anything.

He exhaled in relief after traversing the entire stretch of Taihua Road. He needed to start preparing to earn spirit stones soon, or else he’d forever feel like a pauper. In truth, if this Chao Ge City didn’t have a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator in residence, selling a few stalks of spiritual herbs would be the fastest way to acquire spirit stones. Yet the spiritual energy in his small space was so abundant that anyone with sharp eyes would notice something amiss. If similar spiritual herbs existed in nearby secret realms, it would be less suspicious; if not, it would draw too much attention. Besides, he didn’t want his treasures to be squandered on others.

Since he hadn’t planned to buy anything, Qin Chengming moved quickly. It was still early by the time he finished his rounds, and not wanting to return too soon, he chose a road brimming with scholarly atmosphere.

Most shops here accepted gold and silver. Perhaps to make up for his earlier frustrations, Qin Chengming shopped with abandon. Maps, travelogues, Daoist and Buddhist treatises—he bought anything that wasn’t a duplicate, accepting all comers. He even purchased a complete set of mundane books used for civil service exams. The shop attendants, seeing his interest in mortal texts, eagerly recommended the long-neglected storybooks from the mortal realm. Their pitches were extravagant, but Qin Chengming barely cared—he had money to spare. Eventually, the entire pile of books, whose age was unknown, was finally sold.

With arms full of books of uncertain utility, Qin Chengming felt thoroughly invigorated and headed back. Several bookstore attendants waved him off enthusiastically. Upon returning to the inn, he ignored the proprietress’s hesitant expression, went straight upstairs, and entered his room.

Only after closing the door did his expression change. Someone had entered his room, and the array left inside had injured them. The scene had been cleaned up, but there were still traces of blood in the corners of the wooden door, not fully wiped away. No wonder the proprietress looked so troubled—she must know something.

All his valuables were with him; he had only left behind a defensive array and a concealment array in the inn. He’d kept these simply because he’d paid for ten days’ lodging, and whenever he needed to enter his space, it was easier to leave the arrays up rather than reassemble them each time. Both were energy-efficient, costing little even if run for ten days. Too lazy to fuss with them daily, he’d left them. When he left, he had hung a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. Whoever was injured this time, he was fully justified.

He didn’t suspect an attempt on his life. He’d only been in town a few days, much of it spent inside his space—how could he have made any enemies in such a short time? The proprietress’s hesitant behavior led him to believe it was one of the inn’s staff who got hurt. He dismissed the matter and entered his space to practice with the ordinary, worthless medicinal herbs.

Elsewhere, in a stone house, a spirited young woman wept as she leaned against the bedside. The man lying on the bed was pale, the tear mole at the corner of his eye making him look even more pitiful. Two furry fox ears and a bushy tail had appeared. He spoke impatiently to the woman: “I’m not dead yet. Why are you mourning? Go and call Hu Zhe in.”

The woman dared not argue, bowed her head, replied softly, “Yes, Second Prince,” and obediently left without looking back.

The man on the bed grew angrier seeing her demeanor. Was this the only daughter of Hu Jiangjin? She was utterly unimpressive. When they first met, he thought she was a bold, straightforward woman, but as they grew familiar, she turned into a whimpering, nagging mess. He wondered how she’d managed to act so decisive and sharp before.

Before he could ponder further, the peach-eyed Hu Zhe entered, bowed, and said, “Second Prince, you summoned me. How may I serve you?”

The Second Prince deliberated, “Do you think that person overheard our conversation?”

Hu Zhe was momentarily stunned, then realized whom the prince meant. He hurriedly replied, “That person was nowhere near us at the time, and we discussed official matters inside the house. With the defensive array in place, he shouldn’t have overheard anything. At most, he saw the three of us leaving that room together. I checked at the city gate; that man only entered the city a few days ago and isn’t a local resident. The gatekeepers said he looked like a beggar when he arrived, grimy and shabby. It was Immortal Wei on duty who took pity and returned the spirit fruit he used to pay the entry fee, so he could afford to stay at the inn. Someone like that couldn’t possibly be a bait sent by the City Lord’s mansion. Besides, he has barely any spiritual energy on him; even if he’s not a mortal, his cultivation can’t be high.”

The Second Prince stared at him. “You say his cultivation can’t be high? Look at my injuries. Though not inflicted directly by him, they were caused by his array. If his level were low, how could he have set up such an array? If I hadn’t watched you grow up, I’d suspect you were a spy for the City Lord’s mansion.”

Hu Zhe’s face tightened. He loudly declared his loyalty, “I, Hu Zhe, am a devoted follower of the Second Prince and would never betray you, nor become a traitor to the human clan. If you’re dissatisfied with my investigation, I’ll go back and look into it again.” He turned to leave.

The Second Prince rolled his eyes. “Stop right there! You make a mistake, and I can’t even say a word? Where would you investigate? The inn room is set with a high-level array plate; even I was badly injured, you’d be going to your death. Stay in your room for the next few days—don’t go anywhere. Do you hear me?”

Hu Zhe blushed. Though he was the Second Prince’s guard, his cultivation wasn’t as high as the prince’s. If he hadn’t grown up at the prince’s side, he wouldn’t even be qualified for the post. Still, no matter how insecure he felt, he had no desire to leave. He obediently replied, “Yes!” and retreated quietly to his room to reflect.