By the morning of the seventh day inside the Demon Sealing Ruins, Broken Banner City had already become louder than the night before.
Fang Lin stepped out of the stone room and felt the noise strike him before the light did. Cultivators were bargaining in the streets, arguing over pill quality, formation repairs, map fragments, beast cores, and whether a bloodstained sword was "ancient" or merely "unwashed." Somewhere near the market road, a man shouted that his medicine could restore half a life. Another voice immediately asked if the other half had to be purchased separately.
Fang Lin stood at the doorway for a moment, letting his gaze pass across the Green Bamboo camp. After one day of rest, the tightness in his body had faded, and his aura looked much steadier than before. To outsiders, Shen Mo seemed to have recovered from the Weapon Resting Hall battle. In truth, Fang Lin had spent most of the day sorting gains, calming his breathing, and deciding which items could be used, hidden, traded, or turned into future debts.
Zhao Feng saw him first and waved with a strip of dried beast meat in hand. "Fellow Daoist Shen, you finally came out. I was starting to think your seclusion had ended with you counting spirit stones until your soul left your body."
Fang Lin walked over calmly. "If my soul leaves my body because of spirit stones, at least it will leave happily."
Murong Yue nearly choked on her tea. Bai Qing lowered her head, but her shoulders moved slightly. Li Shan looked away as if he had heard nothing, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
Feng Jiu'er sat beneath a half-broken stone pavilion near the center of the camp. A simple table had been set there with spirit rice, roasted beast meat, vegetable soup, two jars of pale wine, and several plates of small fruits that gave off faint spiritual Qi. Compared to the dangerous and greedy air outside, this corner of the camp felt strangely peaceful.
Feng Jiu'er looked at Fang Lin. "You rested for a full day. Are your injuries stable?"
Fang Lin sat down at the edge of the table. "Stable enough."
"Enough for what?"
"Eating without owing medical fees."
Zhao Feng nodded gravely. "That is an important standard."
Feng Jiu'er glanced at him, and Zhao Feng immediately lowered his head to focus on the beast meat. His expression said that the meat had suddenly become the most profound thing in the ruins.
Su Wanqing poured a cup of wine and pushed it toward Fang Lin. "Senior Sister Feng said this meal is to thank Fellow Daoist Shen for helping us in the Weapon Resting Hall. There is no need to refuse."
Fang Lin looked at the wine, then at Feng Jiu'er. "Fairy Feng is paying?"
Feng Jiu'er's expression did not change. "Green Bamboo Alliance is paying."
"Then I will drink carefully."
Murong Yue smiled. "Carefully?"
Fang Lin lifted the cup. "Expensive kindness should not be wasted too quickly."
Feng Jiu'er gave him a look, but did not argue. For some reason, the more serious he sounded, the more shameless the words became. She had seen many proud cultivators, many cold cultivators, and many greedy cultivators, but someone who could make taking advantage of hospitality sound like respect was rare.
The meal passed with a warmth that did not belong to the ruins.
They spoke of the city, the rumors, and the strange black marks some cultivators had obtained. Han Zhi mentioned that two more groups had entered Broken Banner City before dawn, one from a tributary sect under Scarlet Sun Palace and another made up of rogue cultivators who had paid heavily to join a medium sect's protection group. Luo Chen said that Iron Spear Valley had been asking about Shen Mo, though not in a hostile way.
Zhao Feng leaned forward. "Fellow Daoist Shen, Iron Spear Valley may invite you again. If they offer wine, remember to ask whether it is free before drinking. Some people call it friendship first and debt later."
Fang Lin looked at him. "You have experience?"
Zhao Feng's face stiffened. "A painful amount."
This time Bai Qing laughed openly.
Even Feng Jiu'er's eyes softened for a breath.
After the meal ended, Fang Lin did not return to his stone room. Broken Banner City had gathered too many cultivators and too many items. Some things were trash, some were traps, but occasionally, good things appeared precisely because their owners lacked the eyes to understand them. Since he had already sorted his spoils, it was time to turn what he could not use into something that suited him.
Feng Jiu'er noticed him preparing to leave. "Going out?"
"To look around."
"Alone?"
"If I bring too many people, sellers will raise prices."
Murong Yue smiled. "If you go alone, sellers may still raise prices after seeing your sword."
Fang Lin touched the hilt of the Night Burial Sword lightly. "Then I will tell them the sword is poorer than it looks."
Zhao Feng stared at him with admiration again. "Fellow Daoist Shen, if cultivation fails one day, you can open a shop."
Fang Lin replied, "If cultivation fails, I will collect from people who said that."
Zhao Feng immediately picked up his cup and pretended to drink.
Feng Jiu'er watched Fang Lin for a moment, then said, "Do not leave the city boundary. Broken Banner City is messy, but outside it, people disappear faster."
Fang Lin met her gaze. "Fairy Feng worries too much."
"I worry accurately."
He smiled faintly. "Then I will return before your worry becomes expensive."
Feng Jiu'er looked away first. "Go."
The market streets of Broken Banner City were even more chaotic in daylight. Formation flags flickered between broken pillars. Temporary stalls had multiplied overnight. Some were made from cloth laid across stone slabs. Some were carried on the backs of large spiritual beasts. Others floated in the air using small formation plates, with their owners sitting cross-legged beneath them as if being high above the ground made their goods more trustworthy.
Fang Lin moved slowly through the crowd.
He stopped first at a Pill Dawn Sect stall. The disciple behind it wore white-gold robes and had a smile that looked gentle until someone asked for a discount.
"Clear Meridian Recovery Pills," the disciple said, opening a jade bottle. "Seventy low-grade spirit stones each. Good for restoring Qi and calming meridian strain. In a place like this, cheap pills kill faster than enemies."
Fang Lin checked the scent and quality. The pills were not top-grade, but they were clean.
He bought two bottles, twelve pills total.
The Pill Dawn disciple's smile widened. "Fellow Daoist has good judgment. We also have Bone-Mending Pills. One hundred and eighty each. Expensive, yes, but bones are more expensive if they remain broken."
Fang Lin looked at him. "Your sect must be very kind."
The disciple smiled. "We save lives."
"And empty pouches."
"An empty pouch can be filled again. A dead man cannot bargain."
Fang Lin found the logic difficult to refute and bought four Bone-Mending Pills. After that, he purchased two more Spirit Cleansing Pills. The price was ugly, but useful things in ruins rarely looked gentle.
He visited several more stalls afterward. One sold damaged talismans that had been "mostly repaired," which was a phrase Fang Lin trusted about as much as a smiling enemy. Another sold map fragments, but three different fragments showed the same road leading in three different directions. At a weapon stall, a large man claimed a rusted saber had once belonged to a Core Formation expert. Fang Lin asked why the saber had not protected its owner. The man lowered the price by half without another word.
The morning slowly turned toward afternoon.
Fang Lin was about to return when he heard a sharp female voice near the shadow of a cracked shrine.
"Senior Brother, if you do not want it, then do not block my stall. My goods may be poor, but your eyesight is not rich enough to insult them for free."
Several cultivators laughed.
A Scarlet Sun Palace tributary disciple stood before a small stall with an embarrassed and angry expression. Behind the stall sat a young woman in dark teal robes, her patched black cloak spread beneath a pile of old jade slips, broken talismans, strange stones, and two dull bronze needles. Her eyes were bright, her smile quick, and her posture relaxed in a way that made it clear she was ready to flee at any moment.
The disciple pointed at a black jade slip. "This thing condenses one drop every midnight. One drop. Even if I live long enough to become an elder, I may not gather enough to scare a kitchen rat. You call this a technique?"
The young woman's smile did not fade. "I call it patience. Some people lack it."
The disciple's face darkened. "You dare mock me?"
"I dare explain why you should not buy it."
The surrounding cultivators laughed louder.
The Scarlet Sun disciple snorted, flung his sleeve, and left.
Fang Lin's gaze landed on the black jade slip.
It was quiet. Too quiet. Most jade slips carried some trace of their contents, a faint fluctuation from sword Qi, fire Qi, formation marks, or soul imprints. This one seemed almost dead, yet when Fang Lin's divine sense brushed past it, the Night Burial Sword at his waist grew slightly colder.
Fang Lin did not stop immediately. He moved to another stall first, looked at two broken talismans, then circled back as if he had only wandered there by chance.
The young woman looked up. "Fellow Daoist, looking for talismans, maps, techniques, or lies? I sell all four, but lies are cheapest if you buy in bulk."
Fang Lin glanced at her. "Do lies come with a refund?"
"No. That is what makes them lies."
He almost smiled.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Qin Xiaodie. Rogue cultivator, honest merchant, temporary survivor." She tapped the stall cloth. "Which part do you want to question first?"
"Honest merchant."
"Everyone questions that first."
Fang Lin crouched before the stall and picked up a dull green jade slip. It contained an incomplete wood technique, poorly preserved. He set it down and picked up another. This one was a fire palm fragment. Useless to him. Only after looking through several items did he touch the black jade slip.
Qin Xiaodie watched him carefully. "That one is strange. Volumes one and two only. No later volumes. The name sounds grand, but the method is slow enough to make a dead man impatient."
"What name?"
"Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows."
Fang Lin's eyes did not change.
Qin Xiaodie continued, "Every midnight, one Shadow Dewdrop cultivated. And extremely hard to cultivate. High chances of failure. One hundred drops for the first stage. Ten thousand for the second. If a person cultivates honestly, he may die of boredom before dying in battle. It has some perception and recovery effects, but people in the ruins want power now, not after counting drops like a farmer counting rain."
Fang Lin turned the jade slip in his hand. "How much?"
Qin Xiaodie's eyes narrowed slightly. "If I say eight thousand low-grade spirit stones, will Fellow Daoist throw it at my face?"
"No."
Her smile returned.
"I will put it down and leave."
The smile stiffened.
Several nearby cultivators heard it and laughed. Qin Xiaodie clicked her tongue. "Fellow Daoist looks quiet, but your bargaining cuts people."
"Your price tried to rob me first."
She crossed her arms. "Then name a price."
Fang Lin did not answer directly. He took out the Falling Rain Needle Manual wrapped in old yellow cloth and placed it on the stall. Qin Xiaodie's expression changed the moment her divine sense touched it.
Her fingers stopped moving.
"This is a complete piercing technique?"
"Superior Spirit Foundation level. Hidden-weapon path. Clean, sharp, and easier to sell than a method that asks cultivators to wait until midnight."
Qin Xiaodie looked at him again, and this time the playfulness in her eyes faded a little. "You want to trade this for Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows?"
"And a few other things from your stall."
"Fellow Daoist, your face is calm, but your appetite is very alive."
Fang Lin picked up two ordinary-looking map fragments, a bundle of dark thread, and three blank jade slips. None of them were especially valuable. The important thing was not to make the black jade slip look too important.
Qin Xiaodie understood that much. Her gaze flickered once, but she did not expose him. A merchant who ruined a customer's cover for no reason would not live long in a place like Broken Banner City.
"Add spirit stones," she said.
Fang Lin placed one Sword Tempering Stone, one Earth Armor Talisman, and a pouch of eight hundred low-grade spirit stones beside the manual. "This is enough."
Qin Xiaodie stared at the items. The Falling Rain Needle Manual was practical and easy to resell. The Earth Armor Talisman would sell quickly. The Sword Tempering Stone was not rare, but weapon cultivators liked such things. Eight hundred low-grade spirit stones were not a small addition.
Her lips curved. "Fellow Daoist Shen Mo truly knows business."
Fang Lin looked at her.
Qin Xiaodie's smile became brighter. "Silent Mountain Sword is not exactly quiet in Broken Banner City. Do not worry. I charge extra for spreading rumors, and you have not paid me."
Fang Lin stored the black jade slip and the other small items. "Good. Then keep being expensive."
"I prefer alive."
"That too."
Qin Xiaodie laughed softly and accepted the trade. "If Fellow Daoist ever finds Volume Three or Four of that method, remember me. I want to know whether this useless thing becomes a treasure or remains a joke."
Fang Lin stood. "Sometimes jokes live longer than treasures."
Qin Xiaodie blinked, then shook her head with a grin. "That sounds profound, but I suspect you simply did not want to answer."
Fang Lin had already turned away.
The black jade slip lay quietly inside his storage treasure.
Dew of Ten Thousand Shadows.
Volume One, Dark Bud. Volume Two, Midnight Lotus.
To others, it was slow. To others, it was incomplete. To others, one Shadow Dewdrop per midnight was a laughable weakness.
But Fang Lin did not only have darkness. He had death force, soul strength, the Night Burial Sword, and a body that could endure what ordinary cultivators could not. More importantly, he understood patience. A blade forged in one breath was useful for one breath. A method that accumulated silently could become terrifying precisely because no one feared it at the beginning.
He did not need to show joy.
He only needed to return and cultivate.
As Fang Lin walked back toward the Green Bamboo camp, the noise of Broken Banner City continued behind him. People argued, traded, lied, laughed, healed, threatened, and flattered. Banners shook above broken stones. Smoke from pill furnaces rose into the dim red sky. Somewhere far beneath the old square, too deep for ordinary senses to notice, a faint ancient line pulsed once and went still.
Fang Lin paused for half a step.
Then he continued walking.
When the Green Bamboo banners came into view, the afternoon light had begun to fade. At the edge of the camp, a crimson-green figure stood beneath a broken pillar, her gaze turning toward him the moment he approached.
Feng Jiu'er had been waiting.
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