Eternity Starts From His Seed

Public Commons District.

In a cramped stall, Bubai finally put down the make-up brush onto the makeshift table.

Picking up a polished bronze disk, he peered into it, barely making out the features of Liang’s face - now pale thanks to the layers of powder and softer from the applied rouge. As a finishing touch, he adjusted the white turban wrapping his head, “Good enough.”

Clearing away all the make-up supplies and keeping them into his smaller storage pouch, Bubai then glanced down through the glass lid of the makeshift table, taking in the scene of the small platoon of black scorpions cluttered within. “Though I could stay low key for a bit longer, but I didn’t expect…”

Only one month in, and the scorpions had already grown! This was the power of his green Qi nourishment!

His green Qi was still as mysterious as ever. Even after he exhaustively dug through the general section, it yielded no information on Qi exhibiting unique colors like his or the black mist glimpsed in Old Shen’s workshop.

On the other hand, the Classified section, at first glance, also appeared to lack any dedicated volumes on the subject.

However, it was too difficult to predict if there were any hints in a random book as book titles alone provided little insight.

Plus, navigating through this sea of literature also proved challenging. In this era, many works took the form of biographies or journals, laden with superfluous details that were time-consuming to sift through.

Only essential techniques, methods, and knowledge, crucial for cultivation, were organized and refactored by the cultivators, resulting in a text that gets straight to the point.

Typically, these were the foundation collected and meticulously altered by sects, meant to foster new cultivators instead of a detective or scholar.

Unfortunately, the clarity of these still sometimes fell short. Vagueness persisted, many omitting important points in the cultivation process while some even resorted to pure visual aids.

It still remained uncertain whether this ambiguity was deliberate or unintentional...

Who knows? Perhaps the vital points were locked away as a part of higher-end knowledge. Maybe a dedicated explanation on the distinctive colors of special Qi could also be found there.

Bubai let out a sigh, “But who knows when I’ll be able to access those higher-end knowledge on the upper floors of the library…”

Especially since he had to take days off recently to make sales.

Granny Shu was definitely dissatisfied, her words still clearly echoing in his memory, “Young Bubai, you’re giving up a mountain of gold for trifling scraps on the long road.”

Ah. Indeed, for a powerful cultivator like her, the monetary value earned from his sales were likely considered trivial.

Alas, it was a hefty sum required to sustain his livelihood. So the trip was necessary.

West District. Twin Towers Plaza.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the plaza that was alive with activity. The air was filled with the soft murmurs of haggling cultivators and occasional hollers of sellers.

Despite the lively atmosphere, the spacing between the stalls was wider than usual.

The usual throngs of visitors to the twin towers at the center of the plaza were notably absent, leaving an air of emptiness that hung over the typically overcrowded marketplace.

With the main source of income gone, the traffic was naturally less.

Situated in his own personal space, away from the other stalls, Bubai sat behind his wooden box, the contents of which sent shivers down the spine of many passerby, causing them to avoid his stall.

Bubai glanced down at his cuties, their pincers clicking menacingly as they danced with each other, clearly wanting a piece of each other’s meat. “Really, they aren’t that scary...”

Leaning forward, Bubai called out once more, “Death scorpions for your self-defense needs! Intoxicating pills and drugs! The best prices you’ll find! You know you need it!”

Just when his shout ended, a ragged group of men approached, their tattered clothes and unkempt appearance contrasting sharply with the tidy appearance of others.

Eyeing the scorpions with a mix of curiosity and greed, they exchanged furtive glances before hustling Bubai.

"We’ll take your medicine. We'll take these scorpions as well," one of the men declared, a sly grin playing on his face.

“A spirit stone for a team. I accept spirit rice for individual sales. Aphrodisiac and knock-out powders sold separately.” Their expressions soured after Bubai quoted the price.

"Are you playing dumb? We ain't paying that much. We'll just take 'em," another man sneered, reaching for the box without offering any payment.

Bubai's eyes narrowed, and he firmly placed one hand on the box. "No payment, no goods."

Muscles bulging, the man attempted to wrest the box from his control. Failing to pull the box away, he signaled to one of his companions to help.

Then, two man strained to move the box, their faces contorting with exertion, yet the box stubbornly refused to budge.

“Tsk. Useless trash.” Despite the clear gap in strength, the leader of the ragged group still showed his aggressiveness, "You're asking for trouble. Do you know who we are?”

“…” Nope.

Hearing no response, the agitated leader leaned forward, slamming his hand onto the glass lid, “Listen up! We’re the Flower Picking Gang. Behind us is a big man from the inner sect. If you’re smart, you know what to do. Otherwise, we could just pay you a visit tonight and help ourselves."

Haha. Pay him a visit? They should be more worried that he would pay them a visit.

Bubai rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Try it. These scorpions aren't the only things that bite.”

With lightning speed, his free hand snaked forward, seizing the man’s wrist with a vice-like grip and giving it a twist. “Ow- ow- let go!”

With a light toss, he sent the man stumbling back, falling over unceremoniously onto his rear, “Now, if you're not buying, move along and don't waste my time."

After struggling to get back on his feet, the leader, now with a flushed face and clutching his bruised wrist, gave him a glare that could melt steel, “Just wait and see! Go!”

The ragged group did not taking kindly to the refusal, even giving his box a kick as they left.

Honestly, Bubai never expected he would have a cliché random encounter with idiots like this.

Well, given the outer sect's population, he supposed it wasn't entirely unexpected to come across some arrogant fools who believed themselves superior simply because they had an influential backer.

Of course, outer disciples weren’t foolish to just offend anyone. Their condescending attitude towards him probably stemmed from their misguided perception of him.

In this market, he was clearly a new face, and his soft, pale face that he designed really looked like the type that gets bullied. They most likely took him for a soft persimmon.

Adding onto that, they probably mistook him as an outer disciple because he wasn’t displaying his inner disciple token.

While hiding the token did bring some unnecessary troubles, but it was a strategic move to mix as much sand as possible into his identity.

This way, even if the abnormality of his scorpions were to be discovered later, it would be much more difficult to track him if the main focus was diverted to the chaotic and densely populated outer sect.

The advantages of hiding his identity trumped the minor inconveniences arising from his understated image.

Still, it was a bit annoying to encounter troubles like this. However, Bubai knew there was a reason.

His gaze swept across the plaza, meeting the hawk-like gazes of several others stall owners who watched the farce from afar. Much like Bubai, they were also engaged in the trade of selling scorpions, yet their stalls boasted a more varied assortment, including other venomous insects such as centipedes.

However, Bubai had long gauged their prices and his price was set much lower.

His cheaper price evidently ruffled the feathers of his fellow sellers. The discontent among them may have led to the orchestration of the small disturbance that had just occurred.

Perhaps not all of them were responsible, but the culprit was among them.

He couldn’t blame them. Such tactics were commonplace in the business sphere of outer disciples, which makes up the majority of the population in the market nowadays.

Once the inner disciples come back, these individual sellers can only scurry back to their own residences or become the low-cost suppliers for the main insect-selling stalls.

That’s why they were even willing to play underhanded tricks just to keep out competition. They simply wanted to make as much as possible before the sharks returned.

Bubai glanced down at his cuties. Well, still a couple of days. Plenty of time.

He can still afford to lower the price further.

If it doesn’t work, he could take out his inner sect token to attract business, reeling in those eager to hug a thigh as customers.

In the worst-case scenario, if all else failed, he saves them and breeds a large batch. As a last resort, he can do a one-time clearance sale when the wealthy population returns.

Of course, he would rather not if he didn’t have to. He wasn’t willing to gamble that no one would notice the abnormality.

Fortunately, despite the lackluster sales of scorpions on the first day, a steady stream of disciples still came along to check out the drugs and pills he had looted from the outer sect. It needs not be mentioned why these were a popular commodity.

Of course, he mentally marked down the faces, names, and sometimes even district of all those who purchased these items. His ledger even extended to those who expressed interest in his scorpions.

All of this was for… future reference.

None of these buyers were good people. Having sold the drugs in an undercover operation, he felt a sense of responsibility to catch these criminals in the act later on down the line… confiscating their ill-gotten wealth as a bonus.

Oh, his resourcefulness was indeed a prized quality.

If this wasn’t a demonic sect, he might have been locked up for his “resourcefulness”.

North District. Night.

With a freshly clean face, Bubai walked empty-handed down toward his destination.

The box of scorpion had already been safely tucked away in an empty stall in the Public Commons – the perfect storage at night when no disciples were around.

Too bad the same couldn’t be said for the day, or he would be raising his cuties in the stalls instead of his own tower.

Entering a dark alley, Bubai sniffed the air, prompting a sly smile to arise on his handsome face. In a soft voice, he called out, “Here kitty kitty, dinaa taimu…”

“Meow!” A cat fell from the heavens.

He caught the catwoman, letting her hang on him, cutely rubbing her face against his as she responded, “Itadakimeow!”

Well, close enough. An amused smile played on Bubai's face.

The day had come to an end, but not wanting to waste the materials, he didn't change back. Thus, at night, the mask naturally can’t be wasted.

While high-profile heists had to be avoided, low-profile, honest cultivation didn’t need to be let off.