From the depths of his sea of consciousness, red threads extended from the Ancient Devil Monument. The threads quickly moved towards Zhi Xuan's ribs, temporarily holding them to prevent more fatal injury.

  'The Zhu Clan, one day you will make them tremble in fear, Boy!' Ruo Xianxue hissed, her voice filled with a cruel promise.

  Zhi Xuan ignored Ruo Xianxue's hiss. His focus was entirely on the remaining pure energy of the Low-Grade Spirit Recovery Pill in his abdomen. The Taiyin Essence was forced to operate at its limit, freezing the tissue around the fractured ribs and his injured lungs. It felt like lighting a small fire in the middle of a snowstorm—the pain was sharp, but the heat provided stability.

  He spent two hours there, at the cold and damp spiritual border of the Zhu Clan. When the first light of dawn touched the mountain peaks, Zhi Xuan knew he could not linger. His wounds were stable, but he was far from healed. The bruise on his cheek was still swollen, and every breath still felt like a stab.

  'Enough,' Zhi Xuan muttered in his heart, forcing his body up from the ground.

  He wiped the dried blood residue from his robe and concealed the thick Jade Pouch containing the spiritual jade coin prize beneath his tattered robe.

  In his hand, he held the mortal skin scroll announcing his freedom from the Dragon Fang Arena contract—a guarantee that he would not be hunted as an escaped slave. He put the Heart-Nurturing Jade back inside his robe, the remnants of the star village that once cherished him.

  "Red Stone, we must go see the Seal Carver." Zhi Xuan stated, it was time for him to return to the Shadow Market.

  Zhi Xuan descended the mountains again, avoiding the main road that might still be guarded by angry Zhu Clan guards. The journey back to the bustling city of Shoutuo felt time-consuming; every step tested the physical limits he had just stabilized.

  As Zhi Xuan entered the heart of the city, which was beginning to stir with the morning hustle and bustle, he immediately headed for the dark eastern alley, a narrow labyrinth despised by the sun. Only in a place like this would his tattered figure and cold aura blend in without attracting too much attention.

  Zhi Xuan arrived in front of the dilapidated incense shop he was looking for. The strong, sweet, and stale smell of incense immediately greeted him. The skinny man with red eyes quickly opened the door, his gaze now more wary after hearing rumors about the Black-Haired Devil winning a crazy bet in the arena.

  "Blood Flower Collapses in the Snow," Zhi Xuan said, his voice hoarse but steady.

  The man grinned, showing his yellow teeth, then led Zhi Xuan straight down the stone spiral staircase.

  As his feet touched the stone floor below, the gloomy and enchanting Shadow Market unfolded. The man-made cave was illuminated by spiritual mushrooms that glowed blue and purple. The atmosphere here was quieter than the arena, but far more dangerous. Everyone here carried a secret that could be deadly.

  Zhi Xuan moved quickly, ignoring the stalls selling poison pills or Demonic techniques, heading straight for the darkest corner. There, the Seal Carver, a hunched old man, sat in front of a dim oil lamp, carving a piece of black jade that emitted an aura of a complex formation.

  "Greetings, Senior," Zhi Xuan greeted in a low tone.

  The hunched man raised his head. His wrinkled eyes immediately swept over Zhi Xuan's blood-stained body. The traces of the cruelty and exhaustion he had just endured were clearly visible.

  "You are still alive," the Seal Carver muttered, emotionless. "The winning rat. I heard the whole city talking about the Black-Haired Devil. You do not look like a devil, you just look like newly minced trash."

  Zhi Xuan ignored the insult. He knew that in this place, only survival was valued.

  "I came for the Identity Jade for the Silver Moon Auction," Zhi Xuan said. "And I kept my promise not to be killed until you sold the jade to the person who would kill me."

  The Seal Carver snorted, his carving motion stopping. "Good timing, Little Devil. Your Identity Jade is ready."

  The Seal Carver took a jade carving from under the table, placing the Fake Identity Jade with the name Ming Xu on it. The jade emitted a stable Divine Wheel aura, but beneath the surface, Zhi Xuan sensed a fake blood seal of a Consciousness Transformation cultivator—a perfect job to deceive the auction guards.

  "I kept my promise, Senior. And you have kept yours," Zhi Xuan said.

  Zhi Xuan picked up the Fake Identity Jade, his rough fingers touching the cold jade surface. The jade immediately absorbed a little of his spiritual Essence and reflected the aura of a fresh Divine Wheel cultivator, far from his current crushed condition.

  "Perfect," Zhi Xuan muttered, hiding the jade beneath his robe. He drew a ragged breath, the pain stabbing his fractured ribs again. He could not go to the auction in this condition. The Spirit Recovery Pill only stabilized, not healed.

  "Senior," Zhi Xuan continued, lowering his voice. "I need help again. The Silver Moon Auction is the only place I can get rare items. Is there anyone in this Shadow Market selling a Body Tempering Pill or a Dragon Marrow Pill—pills that can quickly reconnect fractured bones?"

  The Seal Carver raised one of his thick eyebrows. "Body Tempering Pill? That is a high-level item, Little Devil. It is not something sold at spiritual mushroom stalls. It is traded in dark corners by the Poison Sect or the Medicine Sect. You have the money, but you do not have the time."

  "Give me a clue," Zhi Xuan urged, his sapphire blue eyes blazing with determination.

  The hunched man sighed, scratching his dirty chin. "Alright. There is a crazy alchemist named Granny Luo in the middle sector. She sells Cold Blood Pills that can freeze pain and accelerate bone regeneration. It is expensive, and she is crazy. You have to go yourself."

  Zhi Xuan nodded, wasting no time. "Thank you, Senior. If I return alive from the auction, I will pay for this clue with ten spiritual jade coins."

  As Zhi Xuan turned, beginning to move quickly toward the middle sector of the market, the narrow labyrinth suddenly felt more alive. Sharp gazes from the merchants and rogue cultivators began to turn towards him. His blood-stained and dirty figure no longer radiated weakness, but a newly found aura of cruelty.

  As Zhi Xuan walked through the gloomy aisles of the Shadow Market, whispers and glances began to follow him. The news spread quickly among the rogue cultivators and black market traders, especially about the victory that benefited them.

  Zhi Xuan heard a murmur between two bulky men hiding behind a pile of poisonous herbs.

  "That's him. The Black-Haired Devil. Look at his robe, still stained with foul mortal blood."

  "By the heavens, he is only in the Divine Wheel realm, but he took down fifty people. The moment he slammed that head onto his knee... that was art!"

  Zhi Xuan tried to walk quickly, ignoring them, but a skinny woman with pale skin selling forbidden artifacts approached him, her eyes ablaze.

  "Little Devil!" the woman exclaimed, her smile showing sharpened canines. She grabbed Zhi Xuan's shoulder, and although the woman was only in the Divine Wheel realm, her hand felt like an iron claw on Zhi Xuan's already crushed shoulder.

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  "You are quite a spectacle," she hissed, the smell of dried blood on her hands pungent. "I bet a thousand jade coins on you. You made the cultivators in the stands scream like mortals! This is for your courage!"

  She slapped Zhi Xuan hard on the back, triggering a sharp and unbearable wave of pain.

  "Cough!" Zhi Xuan coughed, suppressing a groan.

  The woman laughed, thinking the cough was a sign of arrogance.

  "Do not die yet, Little Devil. I have placed a big bet that you will return to the Dragon Fang Arena! You must duel again!"

  "I will return, once I have healed my bones," Zhi Xuan countered, his voice hoarse, his tone containing a cold promise that made the woman grin wider.

  Zhi Xuan walked again, tracing the dark aisles toward the middle Sector. Until one voice stopped his steps again, the voice of a man who might now be flattering him.

  "Hey! Black-Haired Devil!"

  A rough hand, possessing a Consciousness Transformation grip, landed hard on Zhi Xuan's shoulder. The blow sent a wave of sharp pain through Zhi Xuan's still bruised shoulder blade, but he managed to restrain himself from flinching.

  The man who patted him was a fat rogue cultivator, with a scar-adorned face and a black robe stained with dried blood. Beside him, a cold-faced female cultivator holding a poison pill in her hand grinned.

  "Do not rush, Brother!" the fat man exclaimed, his eyes glittering like a shark's. "You were great! I, Blood Ghost He, bet a hundred spiritual jade coins on your tenth duel! You fought with the spirit of a wolf!"

  Zhi Xuan held his breath, forcing a cold smile onto his face.

  "You did not kill anyone after the first! That was a show! Taking them down one by one, leaving no corpse to spread vendetta!" the female cultivator added, her voice hoarse and full of gruesome excitement. "You are crueler than Young Master Gu!"

  Another rogue cultivator, selling blood techniques at a nearby stall, shouted: "Yes! When are you returning to the Dragon Fang Arena? We cannot wait! We need another mortal duel show! We need money, Little Devil!"

  Zhi Xuan felt a strange mix of pride and cold disgust. These rogue cultivators worshipped cruelty and strength, and for the first time, he was accepted by this dark world not for his appearance, but for his actions. However, their aura felt dirty and misleading.

  "I thank you for your bets," Zhi Xuan countered, his voice hoarse and calm, pulling himself away from Blood Ghost He's grip. "I am busy. Personal matters."

  Blood Ghost He laughed, patting Zhi Xuan's shoulder again, this time lighter. "Personal matters? Of course, of course. Go. But remember, the Dragon Fang Arena is always waiting for you! We will ensure the bets for your mortal duels reach the millions! We need our Black-Haired Devil back!"

  Zhi Xuan merely nodded briefly, ignoring the other hysterical shouts, and quickened his pace. He knew he had to get out of this interaction quickly before being caught by the spies of the Poison Sect or the Zhu Clan.

  'You like that flattery, monkey,' Ruo Xianxue hissed, amused. 'You have become an idol for society's trash. This is your new karma.'

  'Silence, Ruo,' Zhi Xuan countered, his resolve hardening. He would never allow himself to be trapped in this vicious cycle of cruelty. Capital had been gained. Now, he only needed healing and opportunity.

  Zhi Xuan arrived in the middle sector, a place that felt damper and darker. He found Granny Luo in the corner of the cave, surrounded by cobwebs and foul-smelling herbs. Granny Luo was a withered old woman, her face covered in wrinkles, and her eyes radiating madness.

  "You are the Black-Haired Devil, eh?" Granny Luo's voice squeaked, like a rusty door hinge. "I know the smell of your blood. Your bones are cracked, my organs scream. You need my Cold Blood Pills."

  On the table lay bottles of pills that shone with a terrifying blood-red color, emitting a strong and strange spiritual essence aura.

  "Yes, Senior," Zhi Xuan countered. "What is the price?"

  Granny Luo grinned, showing her toothless gums. "Medium-grade regeneration Cold Blood Pills. Usually, ten thousand spiritual jade coins. But since you have become the 'idol' of the Shadow Market, I will give them to you for a fitting price. Fifty thousand spiritual jade coins for ten pills!"

  Zhi Xuan narrowed his eyes. That was a cruel price—one-tenth of his total winnings. He knew he was being robbed, but he had no choice. Time was the most precious thing.

  "Fifty thousand spiritual jade coins," Zhi Xuan repeated, his tone flat. "Give me the Cold Blood Pills, Senior."

  Zhi Xuan pulled out the thick jade pouch from beneath his dirty robe. The weight of the object—the result of a life-and-death gamble and the suffering of fifty people—felt so real and cold in his hands. He untied the Jade Pouch, and the soft sparkle of the five hundred thousand newly won Spiritual Jade Coins flooded Granny Luo's dark corner.

  Granny Luo snorted in surprise. Although she was a black market vendor, seeing such wealth in the hands of a crushed Divine Wheel cultivator was rare. Her insane eyes glittered with unbearable greed.

  Zhi Xuan counted fifty thousand jade coins—ten stacks, each containing five thousand coins—and pushed them onto the table in front of Granny Luo.

  "Fifty thousand," Zhi Xuan said coldly. "I will take ten pills. Quickly, Senior."

  Granny Luo snatched the jade coins with her skinny hands like lightning, stuffing them into a hidden bag. The madness in her eyes subsided, replaced by satisfaction.

  "Quickly, eh?" Granny Luo laughed hoarsely. "Of course. Cold Blood Pill is the best Poison Pill, Little Devil. I named it the Cold Blood Pill because it freezes the blood pathways around fractured bones, forcing new bone growth in a very short time. But, the pain... it will be ten times what you felt in the arena. Do not die."

  Granny Luo grabbed ten dark red pills wrapped in dry snakeskin and handed them to Zhi Xuan.

  "Take them and go. The Silver Moon Auction does not wait for wounded rats."

  Zhi Xuan took the pills, hiding them inside his robe along with his remaining coins. He did not bother to reply to Granny Luo's threat. He nodded briefly, turned, and began to walk toward the exit of the shadow market.

  As Zhi Xuan walked, his ear caught a faint sound. In a dark corner of the shadow market, he saw the black market vendor looking mysterious, and on his table were only scrolls that looked like maps.

  Zhi Xuan sighed, the pain in his ribs feeling like penetrating ice needles. He had spent one-tenth of his fortune, and now he had medicine that could reconnect his bones. His main goal was to heal himself immediately before the Silver Moon Auction began. However, his gaze was automatically drawn to that dimly lit corner.

  It was the quietest corner of the Shadow Market. There, a thin and tall man, his face covered by a robe, sat silently. On the table in front of him, there were no spiritual artifacts, pills, or weapons. Only three old animal skin scrolls placed on glowing moss. The scrolls looked ancient, emitting a different aura—not a dense spiritual aura, but an aura of long and hidden history.

  Zhi Xuan, driven by the instinct he learned from the river, walked closer.

  "Excuse me, Senior," Zhi Xuan greeted, his voice hoarse again, taking care not to let the Cold Blood Pills in his robe shift.

  The thin man did not move. Only after a moment, he raised his pale hand and pointed toward the scrolls.

  "These are maps," the man whispered, his voice squeaky and dry. "Maps to lost treasures. I only sell them to those who exude enough aura of suffering to bear their curse."

  Zhi Xuan's eyes fixed on the scroll in the middle. The scroll was tied with dry blood-red thread. The scroll looked like a map, but the aura it emitted... it was a very weak aura, but familiar, like an echo from the past.

  'Wait, Monkey!' Ruo Xianxue suddenly exclaimed, her tone filled with rare shock and urgency. 'The scroll in the middle! That... Is a clue about the Nine Lotus Blood Flower! One of the rare herbs for the Flame of Sunrose Flower! That will be useful for you to advance to the First Ember later!'

  Zhi Xuan narrowed his eyes, his resolve instantly locked. His urgent need to heal his bones was now balanced by a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for his future cultivation foundation.

  "The scroll in the middle," Zhi Xuan said, his tone flat, concealing the surprise he heard from Ruo Xianxue. "What is the price?"

  The thin man raised his head slightly, his dark eyes staring directly into Zhi Xuan's sapphire blue eyes. He smiled, a cold and terrifying smile.

  "The price is one hundred thousand spiritual jade coins, Black-Haired Devil. It is an ancient map that leads you to the place where soul fire is born. You have the money, and you have the destiny to bear its curse. Take it, or leave."

  Zhi Xuan held his breath. One hundred thousand spiritual jade coins. One-fifth of his entire capital, for something he needed in the future. It was a crazy gamble. But if Ruo Xianxue said it was the Nine Lotus Blood Flower vital for reaching the First Ember Realm and igniting a strong soul fire, he could not miss it.

  Zhi Xuan forced his body to pull out his Jade Pouch again. The sparkle of the coins re-ignited in that dark corner. Emotionlessly, he counted twenty stacks of coins, five thousand coins each.

  "One hundred thousand," Zhi Xuan said, pushing the coins forward. "I will take the scroll in the middle."

  The thin man was not surprised. He merely snatched the coins with his pale hand and handed the scroll tied with blood-red thread to Zhi Xuan.

  "Congratulations, Black-Haired Devil. Now, the curse of the past belongs to you," the man whispered, his smile spreading.

  Zhi Xuan took the scroll. Its aura felt cold and ancient. He immediately hid it beneath his tattered robe, along with the remaining coins, the Cold Blood Pills, and the Fake Identity Jade.

  His heart pounded. In fifteen minutes, he had spent one-third of his war capital for urgent healing and future foundation.

  'You made the right decision, Monkey,' Ruo Xianxue said, her voice now back to normal. 'The Flame of Sunrose Flower is the key to the First Ember. More valuable than all the pills sold at this auction.'

  "Now, Senior," Zhi Xuan said, looking at the thin man. "Where is the Silver Moon Auction held?"

  The thin man grinned again, showing his unhealthy teeth. "At the Falling Water Pavilion. It begins when the moon is fully high. You have time to die on the way or heal your bones, Little Devil. Go."

  Zhi Xuan nodded, turned, and with a much more hurried step, he began to walk toward the exit of the Shadow Market. He had to heal himself immediately. The Cold Blood Pills had to start working. The Silver Moon Auction would be the next battlefield.