“Nothing, we can discuss this matter later. Since there’s such a grand event, I’ll go take a look first,” Han Li said calmly after a brief pause.
“Very well, this junior will lead the way for you, Senior,” the shorter youth said with a smile after exchanging glances with his companion.
The two then each took out a disc-shaped magical tool and tossed it into the air, stepping onto it. Seeing this, Han Li casually threw out a gleaming flying sword and, with a flicker of his figure, stood atop it.
“Senior’s magical tool is actually a high-grade flying sword! You must be an inner disciple from a major sect out for training, right? Otherwise, an ordinary disciple wouldn’t be rewarded with such a high-quality artifact,” the taller youth exclaimed in surprise after glancing at Han Li’s sword.
The shorter youth beside him also wore an expression of envy.
“Heh, my sect has rules—disciples on training missions aren’t allowed to casually reveal their origins. So, fellow Daoists, don’t try to pry words out of me,” Han Li chuckled, cutting straight to the point.
The two were caught off guard, their faces showing slight embarrassment. However, this only reinforced their belief that Han Li was indeed a disciple from a major sect, and their expressions grew even more respectful.
The three then soared into the sky on their magical tools, heading south toward the town.
The so-called “Snow Ridge Mountain” wasn’t far from the town—its dark, rolling peaks could faintly be seen from the settlement.
In truth, Snow Ridge Mountain should be called the Snow Ridge Mountain Range, stretching for thousands of miles and ranking among the largest mountain ranges in Liaozhou. Moreover, deep within the range, it was said that demons and monsters lurked. Not only ordinary mortals but even cultivators of considerable strength had occasionally vanished without a trace within its depths.
When the missing cultivators’ friends, family, or sect members came searching in groups, they scoured most of the mountain range but found nothing unusual. Yet, afterward, cultivators continued to disappear mysteriously.
Fortunately, not everyone who passed through the mountains vanished, and most of the missing were low-level cultivators from Liaozhou itself. The outer regions of the range remained safe, so after warnings and admonitions, local cultivators stopped venturing deep into the mountains. The disappearances became rare, and gradually, no one pursued the anomalies of the range’s depths.
The Ginseng King Conference hosted by the three great families of Jiangning naturally wasn’t held deep in the mountains but on a tall peak near the town’s outskirts.
From the air, Han Li looked toward the mountaintop and saw a cluster of extraordinarily lavish pavilions and halls. His eyes flickered—he could tell at a glance that these structures were brand new, clearly built recently. A thoughtful expression crossed his face.
“Senior, we’ve arrived. This is the place. All Foundation Establishment cultivators attending the conference will be assigned a private chamber, while Core Formation seniors and above will have their own pavilions to ensure proper rest,” the taller youth explained obsequiously, pointing below.
Han Li nodded without comment, but his spiritual sense quietly swept over the area, probing carefully and discreetly. His brow furrowed slightly—there was actually a Nascent Soul cultivator inside. He wondered if this was a participant or the “Old Monster Kong” that Feng Zhen had mentioned before his death.
The strength of Great Jin’s aristocratic families truly shouldn’t be underestimated. In the South Sky, the most powerful cultivation families only had mid-to-late Core Formation cultivators—none could nurture a Nascent Soul expert.
However, one thing surprised him: this Nascent Soul cultivator’s aura faintly carried traces of corpse energy. Though subtle and well-concealed, Han Li’s spiritual sense far surpassed the other’s, allowing him to detect it despite the effort to hide it.
Could this person be practicing demonic or unorthodox techniques?
If he recalled correctly, the Kong family originated from the prestigious Confucian sect, Tian Sheng Sect, and still received its support. Regardless of whether this Nascent Soul cultivator was the Kong family’s ancestor, merely associating with such a figure was highly inappropriate for the Kong family.
Lost in thought, Han Li followed the two youths as they landed at the manor’s entrance. Immediately, four blue-robed cultivators emerged to greet them.
…
Almost simultaneously, in a secret chamber over twenty zhang underground, the lid of a pitch-black coffin shifted slightly. A pale, jade-like hand emerged from the gap, gently pushing the lid aside. A man in a jade crown and yellow robe abruptly sat up. He appeared to be in his thirties, with refined features and a trace of unease on his face.
“What’s going on? Just now, I felt a sudden sense of dread—could someone have been spying on me?” the man muttered to himself. After a moment’s hesitation, he cautiously released his spiritual sense, sweeping it across the entire mountain, paying special attention to the cultivators in the manor.
Yet, after a long while, he found nothing—no other Nascent Soul cultivators were present. Frowning, he sank into thought.
“Perhaps it was just some old monster passing by, casually probing the area. With this Black Jade Coffin masking my corpse energy, they shouldn’t have noticed anything suspicious,” the jade-crowned man murmured before lying back down. The coffin lid closed on its own, and the chamber returned to silence.
Above ground, Han Li was led by a blue-robed cultivator into a vast square at the manor’s center. Inside, hundreds of cultivators in various robes bustled about—easily five or six hundred in total.
However, these cultivators were divided into distinct groups, each clustered in clearly marked areas, either conversing or trading goods. Around the square, stalls of varying sizes were set up—some on tables, others directly on the ground—creating a lively scene.
Han Li smiled faintly, reminded of his first steps into the cultivation world at the Tai Nan Small Gathering. Thinking back now, it truly evoked nostalgia.
Yet, he was surprised to see a massive tent erected in the square’s center, shimmering with white light—clearly a magical tool. The tent spanned over a hundred zhang, with people coming and going at its entrance.
Shifting his gaze, he noticed two stone halls on either side of the square, also glowing faintly with spiritual light. Though cultivators moved within, the numbers were far fewer compared to the square and the central tent. Some lingered at the entrances, hesitating or whispering with companions.
Aside from some low-level disciples from the three families, only Foundation Establishment cultivators and above were qualified to be here. Han Li’s spiritual sense swept over a dozen Core Formation cultivators—a scale comparable to a first-rate sect in the South Sky. Yet, this was merely a trade fair hosted by local aristocratic families in Great Jin.
Lost in contemplation, Han Li sighed inwardly.
Upon entering, he had been informed that the morning was reserved for free trading, while the auction would begin in the afternoon. Rare materials, magical tools, and treasures could be submitted for auction in advance. The event was scheduled for three days, and this was the second day—the thousand-year Ginseng King would be auctioned on the final day. Likely, the Core Formation cultivators here were all aiming for it.
After a brief glance, Han Li strolled into the square.
As a newly arrived Foundation Establishment cultivator with an unfamiliar face, he drew no attention. Once inside, he blended in seamlessly among the ordinary cultivators.
The items at the surrounding stalls were, as expected, of little interest. While some might appeal to Foundation Establishment or Core Formation cultivators, Han Li, who had handled countless rare materials, found them unremarkable. The only stalls that caught his eye were those with peculiar-looking artifacts or materials.
However, even these were few. After careful examination, Han Li recognized most of them. The remaining unfamiliar items held no research value.
After wandering around for some time without finding anything worthwhile, Han Li was about to head to the central tent to see what the sects were selling when his expression shifted. He turned sharply to find a sharp-faced, monkey-like old man standing two zhang behind him, looking startled. The man was at the early Foundation Establishment stage.
“Fellow Daoist, you’ve been following me for quite a while. Do you know me?” Han Li asked coldly, his eyes glinting with a frosty light.
“Ah, no misunderstanding, please! This Jin Yuan means no harm. I was merely curious. Though this is our first meeting, I noticed you seem exceptionally knowledgeable about all sorts of items—truly admirable!” The old man laughed awkwardly but quickly composed himself.
“Oh? So you’re an observant one. But surely you didn’t follow me just to say that,” Han Li replied indifferently.
“Haha, you’re sharp. Actually, aside from curiosity, I have a small request.”
“Speak.” Han Li crossed his arms, his face impassive.
“I have an unusual treasure whose purpose and origin I’ve been unable to determine. I’d like you to examine it. Of course, if you recognize its value, I’d be willing to sell it to you. Given your means, I’m sure you can afford it!” The old man’s eyes narrowed into slits as he glanced at Han Li’s spirit beast pouch and storage bag.
“An unusual treasure?” Han Li frowned, scrutinizing the old man.
“Fine. Since you’ve gone to the trouble of following me, I’ll take a look. Let’s find a private room to discuss—I also have a few questions I’d like answered.” Han Li nodded and pointed to a side hall.
“A private room? That costs a spirit stone—seems a bit extravagant,” the old man hesitated.
“No matter, I’ll cover it. I just hope your ‘unusual treasure’ doesn’t disappoint,” Han Li said with a faint smile, his gaze lingering on the old man.
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