Chapter 232: Back To That Key Moment ⑥

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Chapter 232: Back To That Key Moment ⑥

Shang Ke did not know when divine retribution would descend upon Yan Lu or what form it would take, so all he could do was prepare as early as possible. Yan Lu’s retribution came from more than a century of accumulated resentment, while his inner demon continued eroding his mind and pushing his sanity toward a dangerous edge. If he lost control, it would not be long before he became a bloodthirsty Demon Lord. Without divine retribution, Shang Ke had been confident he could guide him through his inner demon. Now that the retribution had already been triggered, however, they probably no longer had the luxury of cultivating slowly.

The System had said that under normal circumstances Yan Lu should have wandered the world in a muddled state for thousands of years until his cultivation was exhausted, he fell back into mortality, and his divine retribution finally ended. Could Shang Ke interpret that to mean that if Yan Lu became mortal, he might be able to avoid the worst of the retribution?

Shang Ke thought it over again and again. The solution seemed too simple to count as fully paying off Yan Lu’s divine retribution, but it should at least weaken its force and reduce the risk of his soul being scattered.

“What are you thinking about?” Yan Lu wrapped an arm around Shang Ke’s waist and leaned lazily against him.

How to make sure a certain Demon Lord about to be struck by divine retribution could die in a slightly less horrific way.

“I want to refine some pills for emergencies.” Yan Lu still knew nothing about the divine retribution, and Shang Ke had no intention of telling him. As long as he kept his murderous impulses under control, Shang Ke could find a way to deal with everything else.

“Haven’t you been refining things all along?” The food Shang Ke served cultivators already had effects no weaker than mid-grade spirit pills.

“That’s different. Food from the teahouse can’t be stored. It has to be eaten immediately, or its effects dissipate. This time I want to refine genuine high-grade spirit pills.”

Yan Lu had no objection, except for one concern. “High-grade spirit pills require quite a lot of good materials. Collecting them may take a long time.”

“No need. We can buy them directly from other cultivators. Pills in exchange for materials—I’m sure most people will be willing to try.”

The good reputation Shang Ke had accumulated over twenty years was finally about to prove useful.

Once word spread that he was purchasing materials, more than a hundred cultivators arrived over the next several dozen days. Shang Ke graded the materials they supplied by quality and quantity, established a point system, and announced that once the pills were successfully refined, contributors could exchange their points for corresponding pills.

Artifact-refining masters were not rare in the cultivation world, but spirit-plant cultivators with natural spiritual bodies like Shang Ke were exceedingly scarce. The natural essence of such cultivators could improve both the quality and efficacy of pills. Becoming dual-cultivation partners with one could also greatly accelerate cultivation. Over the years, no one knew how many people had secretly envied Yan Lu’s extraordinary luck. If not for fear of Yan Lu’s strength, someone would probably have tried to steal Shang Ke away long ago.

“Young Proprietor, this is my treasured Kanshui Silver Pine. Please accept it.”

“Young Proprietor, this is a Diluo Pearl I happened upon through fortunate chance. I hope it catches your eye.”

“Young Proprietor, my senior brother and I come from a small sect and don’t have much wealth. We can only offer some fairly good Soul-Returning Grass and Purplewood Fang.”

“Young Proprietor, do you want Snowstar Fish Bones? I’ve collected tons of them!”

“Move aside. Since when do Snowstar Fish Bones count as refining materials? What are you going to do with them, make decorations?”

After being mocked by everyone, Brother Snowstar Fish Bones was preparing to retreat with what dignity he had left when Shang Ke stopped him. “Wait. May I see your Snowstar Fish Bones?”

“Of course!” The cultivator immediately perked up and hurriedly dumped all the bones from his storage ring. A clattering avalanche later, a small mountain of white fish bones stood before everyone, accompanied by wave after wave of fishy odor.

The other cultivators exploded: You bastard, at least clean them before you store them! Did you think putting them in a storage ring meant they couldn’t rot and stink?!

Shang Ke did not mind. With a casual wave, the mountain of fish bones floated into the air and slowly circled above everyone’s heads. A moment later, three bones descended into his hands. He recorded them in his ledger as high-grade materials, awarding even more points than for the Kanshui Silver Pine.

“High-grade? Why?” Everyone looked baffled, including the cultivator who had supplied them. Snowstar Fish lived beneath frozen lakes in enormous numbers and were hardly rare. Even ordinary mortals occasionally caught a few. To cultivators, Snowstar Fish were good for little beyond filling the stomach, and their bones were merely harder and more translucent than ordinary fish bones.

Shang Ke explained, “These three bones should come from a thousand-year-old Snowstar Fish King. Their structure is extraordinary; they have evolved from mundane material into spiritual material and are excellent for artifact refinement. Everyone knows Snowstar Fish are weak. Precisely because they are weak, cultivating to spiritual awareness is far harder for them than for other spiritual creatures. Yet this Snowstar Fish King endured a thousand years. Though its aptitude was mediocre, it ultimately became something extraordinary. Its strength may not even have matched a Nascent Soul cultivator, but it possessed one of the purest courageous spirits in the world.”

The cultivators were deeply moved, especially by the words, “Though its aptitude was mediocre, it ultimately became something extraordinary.” Most of those present had ordinary talent; otherwise they would not so often visit Shang Ke’s teahouse. Some remained in tiny sects, while others wandered as unaffiliated cultivators, all for the simple hope that one day they might accomplish something. Yet who could understand the monotony of a hundred years spent the same way, or the despair of cultivating for decades without advancing an inch? The judgment “mediocre aptitude” had cut short the path of countless cultivators.

And yet a weak Snowstar Fish had broken through its own limits and climbed step by step toward the summit. That alone deserved the word courage. Although it had ultimately died at a cultivator’s hands, its spirit might still enter reincarnation and receive the chance to be reborn. Its life had not been lived in vain.

After that, Shang Ke received many more valuable items. Whenever anyone asked about the origin or use of a rare material, he answered openly, and the breadth of his knowledge amazed them. Their respect for his character also deepened. With many materials, if Shang Ke said nothing, no one would ever know if he quietly classified them as low-grade—the Snowstar Fish Bones were a perfect example. Yet he still told the truth without deception or concealment. That alone was enough to earn their respect.

The material collection continued for more than three months. Shang Ke needed over a dozen storage rings just to hold everything.

Most cultivators did not leave immediately after arriving. Shang Ke answered every question they asked and possessed an extraordinarily discerning eye. Listening to him was almost like attending a lecture, and everyone learned a great deal.

Eventually, someone could not resist asking, “Young Proprietor, may I ask how many years you’ve cultivated?”

Shang Ke smiled. “Are you asking about this life or my previous one?”

That answer left everyone present completely dumbfounded…

Once all the materials were gathered, Shang Ke spent several days sorting them by category and then drew up a long list of things to refine. Quite a few of the pill formulas had been supplied by Yan Lu.

In their previous life, Shang Ke and Yan Lu had traveled widely and collected many formulas. Yan Lu had never cared much about such things, but Shang Ke’s memory was extraordinary, and he had remembered nearly all of them.

“Little Deer, let’s compete. One month. We’ll see who can refine more treasures and whose are higher grade.” Shang Ke was brimming with fighting spirit.

“A month?” Yan Lu sounded thoroughly uninterested.

Seeing that, Shang Ke hooked a finger into his collar and raised an eyebrow. “If you win, I’ll agree to enter the Xuzi Illusory Realm with you.” The so-called Xuzi Illusory Realm was a miniature world constructed through formations. One day inside equaled one hour outside. Cultivation itself was impossible there, but practically anything else could be done. The owner could shape the world according to their imagination—even make all four seasons appear at once. How long the illusory realm lasted depended on the formation’s spiritual power, and its owner could freely enter and leave.

What Yan Lu cared about was not the pleasure of creating worlds. It was the prospect of sustained, uninterrupted “harmony of life.”

“Fine.” Yan Lu was instantly ready to fight.

“Wait. What if you lose?”

“Then make me do hard labor in the Xuzi Illusory Realm for a month.”

That sounded pretty good. Shang Ke agreed—completely failing to realize that “hard labor” could be interpreted in another way…

The two entered seclusion one after the other and devoted themselves to refining. Shang Ke focused primarily on pills, while Yan Lu refined spiritual artifacts.

Although Yan Lu’s cultivation had fallen drastically, divine power still circulated through his body. Refining cultivation artifacts remained more than easy enough for him.

A month passed in the blink of an eye. When the two emerged from seclusion, both wore confident smiles.

They eagerly brought out their results. Yan Lu had refined three high-grade spiritual artifacts and fourteen mid-grade ones. Anything low-grade, he had simply thrown back into the furnace.

Shang Ke had refined three high-grade spirit pills, thirty-five mid-grade pills, and four hundred sixty low-grade pills. In both quantity and overall grade, he had crushed Yan Lu completely.

Just as Shang Ke prepared to declare victory, Yan Lu suddenly took one more object from his storage ring.

Shang Ke looked—and discovered it was actually a quasi-immortal artifact!

“This quasi-immortal artifact should be enough to offset those few hundred mid- and low-grade pills of yours, shouldn’t it?” Yan Lu casually played with the artifact in his hand while staring at Shang Ke with bright, expectant eyes.

Shang Ke accepted defeat honorably. “Fine. You win this round.”

“I’m going to set up the formation now.” Yan Lu tossed the quasi-immortal artifact to Shang Ke, then vanished with a whoosh.

Shang Ke was speechless. Did he have to be that impatient? They were practically an old married couple by now. Wasn’t he tired of it yet?

He looked down at the quasi-immortal artifact in his hands. Something of this level could trigger bloody disasters throughout the cultivation world, okay? Yet that bastard had treated it as though it were nothing.

Shang Ke carefully put away the artifacts and pills, then drifted into the house to begin his pre-“battle” preparations—bathing, changing clothes, skincare, beautifying himself, and getting into the proper mood…

The two spent more than a month inside the Xuzi Illusory Realm—fifteen hours in the outside world.

By the time they finally came out, Shang Ke had reverted to a little mushroom and had to be carried out perched on Yan Lu.

He did not regain human form until the third day. The moment he did, he swore that he would achieve an overwhelming victory in their next competition. The important word was not “victory.” It was “overwhelming”!

Before that, however, Shang Ke used the communication talismans left by the cultivators to send out a complete list of the pills he had refined and their grades, allowing everyone to place orders according to their accumulated points. They could exchange immediately or wait for the next batch before deciding.

Many cultivators had only a small number of points and could afford nothing beyond low-grade pills. When they saw the lists of mid- and high-grade pills, they bitterly regretted not gritting their teeth and contributing more rare materials back then.

As for the spiritual artifacts Yan Lu had refined, there were too few for Shang Ke to add them to the exchange list yet. And at present, no one had enough points to afford the quasi-immortal artifact anyway.

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