Eternity Starts From His Seed

Pouring the final bucket of water onto his fields, Bubai surveyed the two soaked plots with a nod of contentment. "Just in time. I might be running late tonight, but I'm sure she won't mind."

Holding a bucket and hoe in each hand, he made his way back to his hut under the envious stares of his neighbors still tending to their fields.

Casually placing his hoe and bucket in their usual spot, Bubai carefully arranged a pile of leaves collected from the forest, his excuse for the day's delay in the forest.

After spreading the leaves on the hut's floor, he scrutinized the critical points of his arrangement, committing it to memory. Satisfied, he left the hut, striding down the dirt path toward Manager Qin's residence, a light skip in his steps. It was a happy day and he didn’t mind showing it.

Arriving, Bubai noticed the wooden double doors closed. "Hmm? Not waiting here today?" he mused, entering and softly closing the door behind him.

Walking through the silent square courtyard, he headed to their usual activity room. The door squeaked open, revealing the familiar bedroom. Glancing around, Bubai realized it was devoid of WeiWei's presence. "Not here?"

Raising a brow, Bubai stepped in, settling into a meditative posture on the bed, ready to wait it out. Playing hard to get? He, Fang Bubai, is a patient man.

After a couple of hours, Bubai opened his eyes, a slight frown forming. "What game is she playing this time? If she doesn't want to drain me today, just say so."

Getting up, he headed for the door, leaving the room and scanning the residence, noting the eerie silence.

Furrowing his brow, Bubai walked around, peering into the kitchen and the guest bedroom. He halted in front of Manager Qin's study, lips twitching. "She wouldn't have such heavy tastes, right?"

Pushing open the study door, a horrendous stench assailed him, causing him to step back. Inside, he spotted Manager Qin's dried, rotten corpse slumping over at the desk, already showing signs of decay. Apart from him, there was no other presence.

Closing the door quickly, Bubai skipped back into the courtyard, gasping for fresh air to dispel the stench of death from his lungs. He scanned the residence once more, muttering, "Where did that little fox go?"

Bubai hesitated briefly. Wasn’t this the golden opportunity he was waiting for?

However, he quickly regained composure, cautious of possible traps set by the demoness.

What if she was secretly observing him, waiting for the right moment to spring out? Maybe this was all just a game in response to his recent breakthrough?

Suppressing the impulsive urge, he muttered to himself, "Wait and see."

Returning to the bedroom, Bubai calmly settled on the bed, shutting his eyes for a moment of rest.

When he opened them again, morning had arrived.

Yawning as he stepped out, Bubai surveyed the silent courtyard. "Really... not here?"

His eyes flicked around sneakily, and with light steps, he moved toward a shed secured with a lock.

Despite its deterrent for mortals, accompanied by the crisp crackling sound of wood, Bubai effortlessly punched a hole through the thin wooden door, and with a tug, pulled the wooden part with the lock off.

Pausing, he expected the demoness to jump out at any moment, reacting to his abnormal strength beyond that of a mortal. However, there was no immediate response.

A smile crept onto Bubai's face. "Really... gone!"

With a kick, he opened the shed door, revealing relics of Manager Qin and a half-eaten sack of spirit rice. "Running low? Who’s she trying to fool?"

Exiting the shed, Bubai blinked playfully as he scanned the courtyard. "Well, don't mind if I help myself."

Over the next hour, he scavenged the residence for small, valuable objects, stashing any gold or crystal furnishings into his storage space, filling gaps around the wooden box containing the spirit rice.

Having completed his harvest, Bubai was convinced that WeiWei had truly disappeared. Stepping out of the residence, he returned to his hut, grabbing his bucket.

Whistling a giddy tune, he strolled past the farmers and into the forest with his bucket. No one seemed to suspect anything, not even when he disappeared for a couple of hours. Perhaps they simply didn't care.

Ling City. Black Market.

A mysterious figure, his dark skin a stark contrast to the plain white mask concealing his face, navigated the desolate streets of the underground black market. Clad entirely in black, he carried a small sack slung over his shoulder, its contents a miscellaneous assortment of items.

Observing the unusually vacant marketplace, some confusion brewed within him, "Huh, strange. Why is the black market so empty today?"

His curiosity, however, remained at a surface level as he soon reached his destination.

Raising his gaze to the sign reading "Dark Heart Pawn Shop," the cloaked man entered.

Clack. Clack. Clack. The rhythmic clacking of an abacus resonated within the confined, narrow space.

Even with the development of the cultivation world, mental math didn’t seem to be a widely spread concept.

Perhaps mental math did exist somewhere, but it was probably a mental method reserved as an inheritance of some sect, resulting in many cultivators still resorting to outdated devices for calculations.

Behind a long wooden counter, the pawn shop worker, with a scarred face, seemed engrossed in his calculations, paying no heed to the customer's entrance until the man stood before the counter.

Only then did the worker briefly look up, scanning the man’s body briefly before his eyes fixated on the sack. In a gruff voice, he arched his bushy brow, "Stolen goods?"

In silence, the cloaked man placed the sack onto the counter and replied in a hoarse voice, "Does it matter?"

“Indeed, it doesn’t.” The pawn shop worker, unfazed, took hold of the sack, briefly peering inside before tipping its contents onto a nearby bronze scale. The scale barely settled before he declared without much fanfare, "15 taels of silver."

Expressing a hint of dissatisfaction, the masked man asserted, "Aren't you going to check? There are some valuable ones in there."

The pawn shop worker gave the cloaked figure a scrutinizing glance before he responded with a frown, "First time?"

Before the masked man could retort, the worker pushed forward a tray lined with fifteen silver taels. "Since you can come here, you know we don't care too much about mortal objects. Their value doesn't differ much to me. So, we do it by weight here. Those are the rules, 15 taels of silver, take it or leave it."

Exiting the pawn shop, the masked man glanced back at the sign, muttering, "Truly black-hearted."

Yet, 15 taels was better than nothing for items he effortlessly acquired for free.

This masked man, was naturally none other than Bubai, and he had come to the black market to handle his wares and make purchases after accumulating a modest fortune, thanks to Manager Qin’s sponsorship.

“Then, the next stop…”

Entering a lavishly furnished building, Bubai was greeted by a fair-skinned woman dressed in a cheongsam dress embellished with wavy cloud patterns.

A smile graced her face as she executed a slight bow, her arm gracefully pressed against her chest, accentuating the fullness wrapped by her one-piece garment. "Welcome to Nine Clouds Pavilion. How may we help you today?"

Her demeanor exuded a warmth that seemed almost too polished for the confines of Ling City's black market, but it was befitting of the prestige of this store.

The name of this pavilion resonated with familiarity, reminiscent of a well-known tea house in Ling City. It was apparent that such a popular tea house wasn’t backed by a simple organization. And this was in fact, true.

The Nine Clouds Pavilion was a vast consortium stretching across the kingdom's territory.

The consortium specialized in catering to the diverse needs of cultivators, from the common masses to even the high echelons of cultivators, and most cultivation-related resources can be found here.

Here, located in the black market of Ling City, was simply a branch of the consortium, but it still has what Bubai needed this time.

"Do you sell Bigu pills here?" Bubai inquired.

"Naturally." Even knowing it was a small customer, the smile on the lady’s face didn’t falter.

But she had already straightened her posture,  maintaining a slightly more reserved distance relative to before as she guided him toward the transaction counter. "We have Bigu pills from low-grade to high-grade, which does the dear customer want?"

"What are the prices?" Bubai asked.

"Low-grade pills can satiate you for an average meal, lasting a couple of hours and are priced at 60 grams of spirit rice. The mid-grade variant can satisfy your daily hunger and is slightly pricier at 150 grams. The high-grade can sustain you for up to three days and is priced at a cattie of spirit rice, but the convenience it offers, I'm sure fellow daoist should understand."

Indeed, the prices seemed high at first glance, but Bubai knew it was much cheaper to consume a Bigu pill to satiate hunger over its equivalent in spirit rice. It’s just that the Bigu pill only quenches hunger and doesn’t provide additional cultivation benefits like the spirit rice.

Still, many cultivators opt to replace their meals with Bigu pills because they can simply turn to other sources for Qi, such as their natural environment, spirit stones, or pills.

Bubai even knew about the Great Bigu pill, left unmentioned in their transaction. Bubai understood it to be a luxury primarily sought after by foundation establishment cultivators and those at higher levels. Its necessity stemmed from the prolonged periods of closed-door cultivation these advanced cultivators often engaged in and their long journeys over the vast territories.

But the normal Bigu pill was enough for his trip this time.

Without hesitation, Bubai took out two small pouches of spirit rice he was carrying, tossing them onto the counter. "I'll take 20 low-grade, 10 mid-grade, 3 high-grade... and, I also need…"

Leaving Nine Clouds Pavilion behind, Bubai soon found himself at his final destination. Gazing up at the ostentatious sign bearing the name "Heavenly Path," a subtle twitch played on Bubai's lips. "Back here again.”

But, he still honestly walked inside.

A quick survey revealed the same elderly shopkeeper behind the counter, though today, he was sound asleep, his wrinkled face cradled in his own hand.

Clearly, the old man hadn't expected any customers today, and didn’t even bother to keep a watchful eye on the shop.

Despite his carelessness, Bubai, however, knew better than to take advantage of the situation. Approaching the counter, he cleared his throat. "Ahem."

The old man continued to snore blissfully. Bubai, undeterred, brought his hand down on the wooden surface. Knock. Knock.

The shopkeeper shuddered, rousing from his slumber with an expression of annoyance. "Which annoying brat disturbed this old man's beauty nap- uhum?!"

His eyes flickered open in a daze as he scanned Bubai's figure once, finally fixating on his masked face. His initially disgruntled expression transformed into one of approval and interest, seemingly seeing through the masked facade.

"Oh, it's you."