The warehouse of the City Lord's Manor was located in the furthest, most neglected corner of the estate. Unlike the main treasury, which was guarded by formations and elite soldiers, this building was guarded by nothing more than a rusty padlock and a thick layer of dust.
The steward, whose attitude toward Li Fan had shifted from polite suspicion to trembling reverence, fumbled with a ring of keys.
"Master Zhang," the steward apologized, his voice hushed. "This place... it hasn't been opened in three years. The City Lord usually sends items here that are... difficult to categorize."
Difficult to categorize, Li Fan thought with an internal smirk. That is a polite way of saying 'Junk that Su Chang was scammed into buying but is too proud to throw away.'
Clank.
The heavy padlock popped open. The steward pushed the wooden doors. They groaned in protest, hinges screeching against rust, revealing a cavernous, dim interior.
Sunlight flooded in, illuminating dancing motes of dust.
It looked like a hoarder's nightmare.
Piles of cracked porcelain vases, rusted armor, bundles of rotting silk, and boxes of unidentified minerals cluttered the floor. There were paintings with water damage, statues with missing heads, and weapons that had long since lost their spiritual luster.
"Please," the steward bowed, gesturing inside. "Take whatever you wish. The City Lord said you have one hour, but for you, Master Zhang, take as long as you need."
"One hour is enough," Li Fan rasped.
He stepped inside. The smell of mildew and old iron filled his nose.
Li Fan didn't activate his Qi. He didn't need to scan the room.
In Life 340, when he was the Chief Physician of this city, he had spent months cataloging this warehouse out of boredom. He knew the location of every item here better than the steward did.
To the untrained eye, this was a pile of trash. To Li Fan, it was a puzzle where 99% of the pieces were useless, but the remaining 1% were priceless.
He walked past a rack of "Ancient Swords" (counterfeits made five years ago) and ignored a box of "Dragon Scales" (actually painted carp scales).
He headed straight for the back corner.
There, sitting on the floor, was a pile of random minerals and rocks. They were mostly low-grade iron ore and quartz—leftovers from a failed mining venture the City Lord had invested in a decade ago.
Li Fan crouched down.
He reached out and picked up a black, jagged rock about the size of a melon. It was ugly, pitted, and incredibly heavy. It looked like a lump of coal that had refused to burn.
"Master Zhang?" The steward blinked, confused. "That... that is just 'Black Sand Rock'. The City Lord used it to weigh down the pickle jars in the kitchen for a few years before moving it here. It has no spiritual energy."
"Pickle jars," Li Fan repeated, shaking his head.
If the weapon-smiths of the Central Domain heard this, they would cough up blood.
This wasn't Black Sand Rock. This was Star-Fall Meteorite Iron.
It was a material that fell from the Outer Realms. When it entered the atmosphere, the intense heat burned away its outer shell, leaving a core of compressed, super-dense metal. It had no spiritual energy because it was inert—it repelled Qi until it was forged.
Once heated in a high-grade earth fire, however, it became one of the hardest materials in the Mortal Domain. A sword mixed with just an ounce of this iron could cut through normal spirit weapons like tofu.
And Li Fan was holding a ten-pound chunk of it.
In Life 340, this rock was eventually sold to a traveling blacksmith for five silver coins. The blacksmith later realized what it was and sold it for six thousand Spirit Stones. I remember he bought a brothel with the money.
"I'll take this," Li Fan said, dropping the heavy rock into a burlap sack he had grabbed from the door.
The steward looked like he wanted to say something, perhaps to offer a piece of jade instead, but he bit his tongue. The eccentricities of experts were not to be questioned.
Li Fan continued his "browsing."
He moved to a rotting wooden shelf filled with broken accessories. Hairpins with missing jewels, cracked bangles, and snapped pendants.
He sifted through the debris.
Not this... not this... ah.
His fingers closed around a dull, gray rectangle. It looked like a piece of slate used by children to practice writing characters. It was chipped at the corner and covered in grime.
"That," the steward offered helpfully, "is a fragment of a tablet found in a fisherman's net. Scholars couldn't read the script, so they assumed it was gibberish."
"Gibberish," Li Fan murmured.
He rubbed the grime with his thumb. Under the dirt, faint, microscopic lines were etched into the stone.
This wasn't a tablet. It was a Jade Slip—a data storage device used by ancient cultivators. But unlike modern jade slips which glowed green, this was an "Earth-Grade" slip made of gray spirit stone.
And the content?
It was the map of the Small Pond Secret Realm.
But not the version the sects had. The sects had the "Front Entrance" map. This slip contained the layout of the ventilation tunnels and the maintenance shafts built by the ancient cultivator who created the realm.
In Life 17, Ye Qing found this in the City Lord's trash three years from now. He used it to ambush me in the Secret Realm.
Now, it's mine.
Li Fan tossed the slate into the sack.
"Is that all?" the steward asked, trying to hide his disappointment. The City Lord had offered the treasury, and this "Master" picked a rock and a broken tile.
"One more thing," Li Fan said.
He walked to a dusty corner where a pile of old furniture lay rotting. He pulled out a small, unassuming wooden box. It was made of Red Cedar—common wood.
He opened it. Inside sat three dried, shriveled seeds. They looked dead.
"Those are Fire-Lotus seeds," the steward explained. "But they never sprouted. The gardeners tried for years."
Li Fan smiled beneath his bamboo hat.
Of course they didn't sprout. Fire-Lotuses needed to be watered with magma, not water.
These weren't for planting. They were for eating.
If consumed raw during a breakthrough, the violent energy inside a dormant Fire-Lotus seed could forcibly expand a cultivator's meridians. It was painful—excruciatingly so—but for someone with a 5th Grade Spirit Root, it was a shortcut.
"I'll take these too," Li Fan said, pocketing the box.
He stood up and hoisted the sack over his shoulder. The Meteorite Iron clanked against the Jade Slip.
"I am finished."
The steward looked at him with a mix of confusion and relief. "Are you... are you sure, Master Zhang? There is a gold-inlaid sword over there..."
"Gold is soft," Li Fan said, walking toward the exit. "And I have no need for decorations."
The Gate of the Manor
When Li Fan emerged from the warehouse, City Lord Su Chang was waiting for him.
Su Chang had washed his face and changed into fresh robes, though his eyes were still red from weeping. Beside him, a maid held a tray covered in red silk.
"Master Zhang," Su Chang stepped forward, bowing deeply. "My daughter is sleeping peacefully. Her fever has broken completely. You... you are truly a god of medicine."
"I am just a man who knows how to mix pig feed," Li Fan rasped.
Su Chang laughed, a boisterous, relieved sound. "You are too humble! I saw what you took from the warehouse. A rock? A broken tile? Master Zhang, please, allow me to offer you something of real value."
He gestured to the tray. The maid lifted the silk cover.
On the tray sat a heavy bag of gold coins and a shimmering blue token.
"The gold is for your travel expenses," Su Chang said. "And the token... as promised. The entry pass for the Small Pond Secret Realm."
Li Fan looked at the items.
He reached out and took the blue token. It was cool to the touch, carved from Spirit Ice. It was a VIP token—one of only three the City Lord possessed. It allowed the holder to enter the realm without undergoing the strength test required for common disciples.
"I accept the token," Li Fan said, tucking it into his robe.
Then he looked at the gold.
"Keep the metal," Li Fan said. "Use it to buy Fire-Wisp Grass. Your daughter will need to drink that soup once a month for the next year to ensure the Yin energy doesn't rebound."
Su Chang looked stunned. "Benefactor... you refuse payment?"
"The debt is settled," Li Fan said. He adjusted his bamboo hat. "City Lord Su, a word of advice. The Secret Realm opens in ten days. The Ye Clan has been hiring mercenaries. Watch your back."
Su Chang's expression hardened. "The Ye Clan... thank you for the warning, Master Zhang. I will be prepared."
Li Fan turned and walked away.
He didn't look back. He moved with the unhurried gait of an expert, his silhouette framed by the setting sun.
Behind him, Su Chang watched him go, his eyes filled with admiration. "A true expert," Su Chang whispered. "Walking through the mortal dust, untouched by greed. We must build a statue for him."
Outside the City
Li Fan walked until he was well out of sight of the Manor. He turned a corner into a busy market street and slipped into an alleyway.
He checked his surroundings. Clear.
He leaned against the wall and let out a long breath. The mysterious, raspy voice vanished. The "expert" posture relaxed into the slouch of a tired teenager.
"A statue?" Li Fan muttered to himself, recalling the City Lord's whisper which he had picked up with his enhanced hearing. "Build a statue, and I'll sell it for parts."
He opened the burlap sack.
Item 1: Star-Fall Meteorite Iron.
Value: ~6,000 Spirit Stones (if auctioned correctly).
Item 2: Ancient Jade Slip.
Value: Priceless (Strategic Advantage).
Item 3: Fire-Lotus Seeds.
Value: The key to reaching Qi Condensation Layer 4 within a week.
Item 4: Secret Realm Token.
Value: Entry to the next looting ground.
Li Fan did the mental math.
Invested: 2 Copper Coins.
Return: Approximately 10,000 Spirit Stones in assets.
"Return on Investment: Five Million Percent," Li Fan deadpanned.
He transferred the items from the burlap sack into his own hidden pockets and sleeves. He couldn't carry a sack around; it attracted attention.
He placed his hand on his dantian.
Buzz.
The Heaven-Deceiving Copper Coin pulsed. Li Fan pushed a strand of Qi into it, shifting the frequency.
His "Zhang San" persona—the mysterious rogue—faded. His features shifted back to the unremarkable, slightly cowardly face of Disciple Li Fan.
He stepped out of the alley, merging with the crowd heading toward the city gates.
It was evening. The sun was gone. Lanterns were being lit along the main thoroughfare.
Most people were heading home to dinner. Li Fan was heading back to the Sect.
But first, he had one stop to make.
The Golden City Auction House was located in the neighboring city, three days' travel away. But Li Fan knew a "Branch Office" existed here in Mortal Dust City—a hidden intake center for black market goods.
He patted the heavy lump of Meteorite Iron in his robe.
"I can't eat a rock," Li Fan thought. "I need pills. Thousands of them."
He looked toward the shadowy building at the end of the street, marked only by a sign of a Golden Scale.
"Time to turn a paperweight into an empire."