Translator: CinderTL
"I fear I must disappoint you, Benefactor," the Old Monk said. "This humble monk has no acquaintance with the elders of Spirit Herb Peak and cannot assist you."
Song Wen didn't reply immediately, scrutinizing the monk for a moment before producing ten more high-grade spirit stones.
"Please, Master, grant me your aid."
This time, however, the Old Monk refused to accept the spirit stones, seemingly unwilling to become involved in the matter.
"I beg your understanding, Benefactor. This humble monk truly lacks the ability to help you."
Unwilling to give up easily, Song Wen pleaded further, but the Old Monk remained steadfast.
Left with no choice, Song Wen withdrew the spirit stones, bid farewell, and departed.
Leaving the ghost market, Song Wen took a circuitous route, circling around to ensure no one was following him before removing his cloak and heading toward his cultivation cave.
Back in Cloudveil City, the night remained pitch-black.
As he passed the Brahma Sound Pavilion, two figures emerged and flew toward the North City.
The pair traveled in single file, both dressed as monks.
The lead figure appeared to be in his early twenties, with cultivation at the early Foundation Establishment Stage. He had a fleshy face, thick ears, and a burly build, his brow carrying a hint of arrogance.
The figure behind him bowed obsequiously, his face perpetually plastered with a fawning expression. Song Wen recognized him immediately—Monk Mingcheng.
The two parties were approaching each other, and the pair opposite Song Wen quickly noticed him.
"Greetings, Master Mi Hai," Monk Mingcheng said, taking the initiative to offer his respects.
Song Wen slowed his escape speed and stopped in front of them.
"Young friend Mingcheng, where are you headed? And who is this young friend?"
"This is Hui Zhen, Great Master Du'e's..." Mingcheng paused abruptly, then quickly added, "...Great Master Du'e's personally appointed disciple. We're going to North City."
Song Wen's eyes narrowed slightly, instantly recognizing Hui Zhen's true identity.
He was Du'e's son.
His biological son!
Du'e served as the temple supervisor at Dry Zen Temple. Apart from the reclusive Body Integration Stage cultivator who rarely appeared in public, only the abbot held a higher position within the temple.
For a renowned high monk like Du'e to suddenly have a biological son would inevitably tarnish his reputation. Yet he refused to eliminate his hard-won offspring for the sake of his reputation, choosing instead to maintain the facade of a master-disciple relationship with Hui Zhen.
However, someone had leaked the truth about Hui Zhen's parentage, making it common knowledge.
Thus, the supposed master-disciple relationship between Du'e and Hui Zhen had become a farcical charade, akin to "burying one's head in the sand."
"The Old Monk of Myriad Tranquility Pavilion wouldn't even dare introduce me to the elders of Spirit Herb Peak," Song Wen mused inwardly, "which shows how highly the Dry Zen Temple values the Bodhi Spirit Core. Even if I befriended the elders, they likely wouldn't dare defy the temple's prohibition and trade the core with me privately. But Hui Zhen, with his weak cultivation and youthful recklessness, might be my opening."
"Ah, it's young friend Hui Zhen," Song Wen said, his gaze fixed on Hui Zhen, his face radiating a benevolent smile. Combined with his monastic robes, he exuded the aura of an enlightened high monk. "My respects."
Hui Zhen showed not a shred of reverence toward Song Wen, a cultivator at the Nascent Soul Stage.
However, under Song Wen's deliberate show of goodwill, Hui Zhen nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
Song Wen pressed on, "What brings you two to North City? It's hardly peaceful there at night."
A smirk played on Hui Zhen's lips. "Mi Hai, you're far too provincial! North City is where all the fun is! And it takes on a special flavor after dark."
"Oh?" Song Wen's face lit up with interest. "Might this humble monk join you to experience it firsthand?"
"If you want to tag along, go ahead," Hui Zhen replied casually.
With that, he gently accelerated his flying sword, soaring toward North City.
"Master, please!" Mingcheng said with utmost courtesy, gesturing toward North City.
Song Wen nodded slightly at Mingcheng, but his gaze swept the surroundings before he soared after Hui Zhen.
Hui Zhen was the son of a Void Refinement Stage cultivator.
Logically, he should have been accompanied by guards during his outings.
However, throughout their conversation, Song Wen had been carefully observing their surroundings and detected no hidden followers.
As the trio walked and chatted, they soon arrived at a courtyard on the outskirts of North City.
Two golden core guards stood at the courtyard gate. Upon seeing Hui Zhen, they greeted him warmly and respectfully invited Song Wen and the others inside.
Passing through the courtyard's tranquil paths, they reached a pavilion.
Another guard stood watch here, this time a nascent soul cultivator.
The nascent soul cultivator greeted them with equal enthusiasm and ushered them into the pavilion.
Though the pavilion appeared merely grand from the outside, its interior held a hidden world.
Inside, the pavilion was brightly lit.
At the center stood a stone platform, roughly a hundred meters wide.
On the platform, a male and female Foundation Establishment Stage cultivator were locked in mortal combat.
Neither combatant carried any treasures, relying solely on spells.
Dozens of men and women surrounded the stone platform, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they shouted cheers and curses.
Most of the onlookers were of modest cultivation levels, ranging from Qi Refining to Golden Core. Yet all were dressed in lavish robes and accompanied by Nascent Soul or Divine Transformation Stage bodyguards.
A formation had been erected around the platform to contain the destructive force of the battle, preventing stray attacks from harming the spectators.
As Song Wen and his companions entered the pavilion, a Nascent Soul cultivator with the shrewd eyes of a merchant hurried forward to greet them.
Instead of addressing Song Wen, a fellow Nascent Soul cultivator, the man bowed obsequiously toward Hui Zhen.
"Brother Hui Zhen, it's been a while since you've graced us with your presence."
Hui Zhen replied, "My old man grounded me, forbidding me from leaving the house. I only managed to sneak out today because he had business elsewhere."
He gestured toward the stone platform and continued, "Elder Ran, these martial slaves tonight are rather underwhelming. They've been testing each other with spells, clearly unwilling to risk their lives. It's quite dull."
Elder Ran, the nascent soul cultivator known as "Elder Ran," wore a troubled expression. "Brother Hui Zhen, please forgive me," he said. "I captured too many martial slaves a few years ago, which drew the attention of your esteemed temple. After receiving a warning, I haven't dared to capture any new ones on a large scale recently. I have no choice but to let these slaves fight with fewer casualties, or my martial arena will run out of fighters."
"Those old fogeys in the sect are too meddlesome," Hui Zhen sneered. "Just a few rogue cultivators and lowly commoners—what does it matter if they die?"
While Hui Zhen dared to casually insult the Dry Zen Temple's elders, Elder Ran didn't share his audacity. He could only chuckle awkwardly.
"Can I still place a bet?" Hui Zhen asked.
"Of course," Elder Ran replied. "Who do you want to bet on, Brother Hui Zhen?"
"Ten high-grade spirit stones on the female cultivator to win," Hui Zhen declared, producing the stones and handing them to Elder Ran.
Just then, a discordant voice rang out:
"Hui Zhen, why are you being so stingy today? Only betting ten high-grade spirit stones?"
(End of the Chapter)
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