Chapter 22: The Divine Mouth That Blesses

Seal Crafting Chamber.

Shen Lian began to draw talismans, for the profit this time was rather substantial.

One must act with conscience; at most, he would only swindle half the money.

Don’t doubt it—this grandfather and grandson, Weng Xia and Weng He, would still thank him for it…

He worked steadily on the talismans, quietly accumulating points of insight and spiritual comprehension. This was a fine way to live.

There was no need for him to rely on luck or chance encounters to gain opportunity.

Three days later, Weng He came to collect seven miasma-clearing talismans.

Afterward, Shen Lian continued his daily ritual of crafting the miasma talismans, then spent the rest of his time immersed in cultivation.

Occasionally, he would stroll through the market street, searching for poisons, magical implements, elixirs, and so forth, while gathering news from the bazaar.

As he had expected, the Azurewater Sect sent an elder to the market.

The diligent work of the law enforcement team was closely tied to this elder’s arrival.

As for the purpose behind the Azurewater Sect elder’s visit, that was not something the market could uncover.

Ten days later.

Night fell.

Yang Lin, wrapped tightly in robes, knocked on Shen Lian’s door.

“Master Shen, I’ve come for the talismans.”

Upon entering the room, Yang Lin exhaled a long breath of black air, his face veiled with a faint haze.

“Cough, cough…”

He, like Shen Lian, was at the sixth level of Qi refinement.

Seeing Yang Lin’s face streaked with black lines, Shen Lian ushered him into his cultivation chamber.

“I still have one miasma talisman left to finish, I’ll need half an hour.”

“Thank you, Master Shen.” Yang Lin understood the gesture, cupped his fists, and entered the chamber.

Shen Lian truly began crafting the last miasma talisman.

Before half an hour had passed, Yang Lin stood at the chamber’s door, his complexion much improved.

“Cough, cough…”

Seeing Shen Lian set down his brush, Yang Lin spoke, “Thanks to your miasma-clearing talismans, my fellow disciples and I managed to escape the miasma tide.”

“Miasma talismans and pills are only supplementary; you must keep away from the miasma itself,” Shen Lian replied, tidying his brushes and spiritual ink.

“There’s no helping it—sect missions must be fulfilled, and the miasma outside is overwhelming. We can only endure.”

Yang Lin replied casually.

“Soon, more brothers from the sect will arrive. Then we can rotate tasks and purge the miasma from our bodies.”

Shen Lian asked no further, placing twenty-three miasma talismans in Yang Lin’s hands.

“Thank you.”

Yang Lin did not linger, leaving swiftly under the night.

Shen Lian closed the door.

“Miasma tide.”

---

In the wilderness, miasma was abundant, and with countless mountains and ravines, the miasma would usually linger in certain regions.

Yet at the start, middle, and end of each month, the miasma in some areas would be stirred, forming massive tides of poisonous vapor.

Because the timing was regular, the market called it the miasma tide.

Around the Yunmeng Market, there were three places where these tides formed.

Shen Lian knew this well; in his quest for missions, he had painstakingly studied the surrounding environment.

Those spots of miasma tide were the first he excluded.

These three sites were all officially partnered with the Underworld.

Why did Azurewater Sect disciples visit the miasma tide regions? Did they wish to ruin their own lungs?

No wonder Weng Xia sought him out; though others may not know, Weng Xia understood that Shen Lian’s talismans worked better than those of other seal masters when facing the miasma tide.

“Let’s hope nothing drastic happens to delay my departure from the market,” Shen Lian muttered.

Azurewater Sect’s large-scale deployment of disciples must mean they’ve found something in the wilderness.

Even if treasures like the liver of a dragon or marrow of a phoenix appeared, Shen Lian would not covet them; he simply wanted a peaceful home.

…

Soon, a month passed, and Yang Lin came twice more to collect talismans.

Shen Lian did not overly exploit them; he appropriated just over half the materials for himself, keeping his talisman success rate around fifty percent.

In the cultivation chamber, Shen Lian sat cross-legged in meditation.

He had heard that being next to the formation would bring spiritual energy tides, yet in two years, he had never experienced one.

The night was deep.

His door was knocked once more.

Grandfather and grandson Weng Xia and Weng He paid another visit.

“Brother, thanks to your miasma talismans, I owe you much,” Weng Xia said with a warm smile.

“Master Shen,” Weng He cupped his fists.

Weng He didn’t mind being addressed as great-grandson; in the world of cultivation, generations could differ greatly, and it was better to treat everyone as peers.

“Looks like your mission was completed smoothly,” Shen Lian replied, calling Weng He ‘fellow cultivator’ without concern for seniority.

“Mountains and ravines are thick with miasma, plus the tides—traveling through it day after day, even foundation establishment cultivators can hardly endure.”

After some conversation, Weng He revealed their purpose: he wanted Shen Lian to continue crafting premium miasma talismans.

“Isn’t your mission finished?” Shen Lian feigned confusion.

“It’s like this—the sect’s orders are ongoing. I plan to rest for a month, then take up the task again,” Weng He explained, “Many brothers in the sect have also received this mission, so we still need large quantities of miasma talismans.”

Over the past month, Shen Lian had deliberately gone out several times.

Now, the number of Azurewater Sect outer disciples in the market exceeded several hundred; the core courtyards were nearly full.

He had even seen foundation establishment cultivators flying overhead twice.

---

Such sights were rare in the past.

Shen Lian smiled and agreed to continue crafting talismans.

“I’ll soon return to the cultivation world of Chu; before I leave, earning more spirit stones and sharpening my crafting skills is all to the good. In fact, I should thank you both for your patronage.”

“With your skills, brother, you’ll never want for spirit stones wherever you go. You’ve actually helped me tremendously,” Weng Xia replied, his face full of cheer.

Weng He, however, frowned, “Master Shen, you may not be able to leave Yunmeng Market for some time.”

What?

Shen Lian was startled by the news.

“Weng He, what’s going on? When did the sect issue such an order?” Weng Xia was puzzled; he was merely a manager under the sect’s mundane affairs hall, holding the lowest rank, and knew little of sect news.

“I heard it from a senior brother—soon, the market may enact a policy of entry without exit.”

Shen Lian’s face fell.

What was Azurewater Sect up to?

“Brother, you still have a year before your deadline. Perhaps by then, the ban will be lifted,” Weng Xia said with a smile.

With guests present, Shen Lian quickly composed himself, forced a smile, and replied, “Seems I’ll be staying in the market to earn a few more spirit stones.”

Before leaving, the grandfather and grandson handed over another batch of materials for crafting miasma talismans.

Ten bundles of talisman paper, not much spiritual ink—just two bottles—but they had given him seven bottles before, so plenty remained, along with five hundred low-grade spirit stones.

Over three visits, they had provided materials worth nearly three thousand spirit stones—a sign of true wealth.

Shen Lian wondered if the pair had become middlemen.

No matter how they sold the talismans, he could not lose—he was profiting handsomely.

The moment he closed the door, Shen Lian reactivated the Five Elements formation, his smile collapsing instantly.

Damn.

A ban that allowed entry but not exit.

Almost certainly, some valuable discovery had been made in the wilderness.

Yunmeng Market was a natural prison.

Even rogue cultivators at the ninth level would have little hope of returning to Chu—death was almost certain.

Thousands of miles, suffused with miasma, beset by monsters.

Without a spirit ship, escape was impossible.

Though he still had a year before departure, Shen Lian knew that for cultivators, time meant nothing.

If no treasure was unearthed, the ban might last eight or ten years.

This place was so convenient; even the dead didn’t need their bodies hidden—the heavens would do the work.

If the treasure proved too miraculous…

Shen Lian’s face fell again.