In the hazy, dreamlike glow of Dongfu at night, the city was as bright as day.

  The lanterns lining the streets emitted a soft, warm light, while the calls of various spirit beasts echoed through the sky. The trails left by flying magical artifacts were more dazzling than a meteor shower. The cool night air didn’t diminish the bustling crowds; instead, it made the city even livelier. The shops were pulling out all the stops, with uniformed clerks standing at their entrances, one holding a bronze bell and the other a silver mirror engraved with the Eight Trigrams.

  The clerk with the bronze bell chanted a spell and gently shook the bell, producing a clear, melodious sound that spread throughout the area: "Our shop sells magical artifacts, fully stocked with high-quality items at affordable prices. Whether you're a Qi Refinement apprentice or a Golden Core expert, we can meet your needs..."

  The bell was inscribed with the Clear Sound Charm, ensuring the sound was soothing and not at all grating, even after prolonged exposure.

  The clerk with the silver mirror worked in perfect sync, also chanting a spell. The mirror flashed with light, and above his head, lifelike illusions of various magical artifacts appeared. As the sound of the bell changed, the illusions above him shifted like a revolving lantern. This was the Mirage Technique, creating illusions so realistic they could deceive the eye.

  When two shops faced each other, their clerks often glared at each other, shaking their bells rapidly and flashing their mirrors with urgency.

  This scene played out all along the street.

  "A fifth-grade blessed land with a spirit spring, covering five hundred square meters, rich in spiritual energy! Whether you’re raising spirit beasts or cultivating spirit grains and herbs, a bountiful harvest is guaranteed! A steal at two million five hundred thousand spirit stones! Don’t miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"

  "Our shop sells high-grade medicinal herbs, a thousand-year-old establishment with guaranteed quality! All our products have been certified by the Tianxin Medicinal Institute! Buy with confidence!"

  "Want to get into the One Word Wisdom Sword Sect? Our training center is open year-round, teaching various beginner-level techniques, with senior sword cultivators from the One Word Wisdom Sword Sect personally instructing. Guaranteed to learn quickly and pass the entrance exam! What are you waiting for? Sign up now! Early registrants enjoy a 15% discount!"

  ...

  This was the city that never slept, the bustling town of Dongfu!

  Though Zuo Mo was familiar with the city's hustle and bustle, he still felt somewhat out of place. He didn’t come here often. If it weren’t for the wind-riding paper crane, traveling to Dongfu would have been a hassle.

  Even the most dazzling streets have crossroads, and Zuo Mo’s gaze turned blank—he was lost.

  Damn it, lost again!

  He smacked his head in frustration and annoyance.

  Helpless, Zuo Mo walked over to a banyan tree by the street and looked up. Perched on the branches were many small red birds. These birds were entirely crimson, with long, fiery tail feathers. When they flew, it looked like they were trailing flames behind them, earning them the name Flame Birds.

  They were intelligent and could understand human speech, excelling at navigation. Many cities used them as guides, though the service wasn’t free.

  Zuo Mo reluctantly tossed a first-grade spirit stone into the air. A Flame Bird swooped down from the tree, deftly catching the stone and swallowing it.

  "Free Market," Zuo Mo called out.

  The Flame Bird circled above him a few times before fluttering off in a specific direction.

  Zuo Mo quickly followed the Flame Bird, which flew at a leisurely pace, its long tail feathers leaving a trail of red sparks that were particularly eye-catching in the night.

  The red sparks scattered in the air, disappearing quickly. As he walked through the lantern-lit streets, quietly listening to the various calls and watching the illusions shift on either side, Zuo Mo’s thoughts drifted back to how he felt when he first opened his eyes two years ago. Unconsciously, he fell into a contemplative silence.

  A sigh escaped him, and a tinge of melancholy spread through him.

  The Flame Bird’s clear chirp snapped him out of his thoughts. Seeing the Free Market not far ahead, his spirits lifted. The Flame Bird circled above him a few more times, trailing red sparks, before flying away. Zuo Mo waved at the departing bird.

  The Free Market was a favorite haunt for low-level cultivators. As the name suggested, it was a place where anyone could set up a stall to sell goods. All you needed was to purchase a Linglong House and pay a small fee, and you could sell freely. Linglong Houses were much cheaper than regular shops and could be folded down to the size of a palm, making them easy to carry around. Many cultivators bought one to carry with them, ensuring they always had a place to stay when traveling.

  The items sold here were generally cheaper than in regular shops, but it took time to sift through the offerings.

  The Free Market was laid out like a giant Go board, divided into squares, each capable of holding ten Linglong Houses arranged back-to-back in two rows of five.

  Soon, Zuo Mo found his target.

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  "Hey, Brother Mo, you’re here!" The shop owner was a man in his late twenties, with a pointed face and beady eyes that darted around. His name was Fu Jin, and he had mediocre talent and little interest in cultivation, having only reached the third level of Qi Refinement. Instead, he turned to business. He was resourceful and had a wide network, able to get his hands on almost anything, whether it was low-grade magical artifacts or cultivation techniques.

  Zuo Mo got straight to the point: "Did you get what I asked for?"

  "Of course, of course!" Fu Jin patted his scrawny chest and chuckled. "When Brother Mo asks, how could I not go all out?"

  He then rummaged through a small pouch at his waist. Zuo Mo stared enviously at the pouch, which, though unremarkable, was actually a third-grade Hundred Treasure Pouch.

  But soon, Zuo Mo’s attention was drawn to the small object in Fu Jin’s hand. It was a green jade slip, about the width of a finger and the length of two knuckles.

  "Brother Mo, I have to warn you, though. Not many people can fully master the five elemental techniques in this Jade Slip for Spirit Planting," Fu Jin said seriously. "With Brother Mo’s third-level skills, why not buy a Water Technique Jade Slip? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve seen a lot over the years. I’ve come to understand that mastering one skill is the way to go."

  Zuo Mo replied earnestly, "Thank you, Brother Fu."

  He understood that Fu Jin meant well.

  Seeing Zuo Mo’s determination, Fu Jin didn’t press further and handed him the jade slip. "The price was agreed upon—twenty second-grade spirit stones."

  Zuo Mo paid without hesitation.

  Twenty second-grade spirit stones was a significant transaction, and Fu Jin’s mood improved. He chuckled, "If Brother Mo can truly master all of them, and become a Spirit Planter, the treatment you’ll get—whew! Don’t forget to give me a boost when the time comes!"

  Zuo Mo grinned, his face still expressionless, and cupped his hands in a polite gesture. "I’ll take your kind words to heart. But becoming a Spirit Planter requires mastering at least three techniques to the third level—it’s no easy feat."

  Both parties left the transaction satisfied.

  Though most of his spirit stones were now gone, Zuo Mo didn’t feel much regret. He carefully tucked the jade slip close to his body—this was a treasure.

  After buying the jade slip, Zuo Mo prepared to head back to the mountain. Traveling at night was tiring, but staying overnight in Dongfu would mean spending more money.

  Without the burden of the spirit grains, Little Yellow seemed lighter and more agile, flapping its way toward Wukong Mountain.

  By the time Zuo Mo returned to his residence on Wukong Mountain, it was already late at night.

  Under the starry sky, Zuo Mo lay on the roof, his body aching. He held the jade slip between his fingers, gazing at it with half-closed eyes, a look of deep satisfaction on his face.

  In the Sword River Region, many people took up planting, and about seventy percent of Wukong Sword Sect’s outer disciples chose planting-related tasks. The sect also taught some planting techniques, including the Minor Cloud and Rain Technique. But the sect only taught the basics. Wukong Sword Sect was a sword cultivation sect, so it had plenty of sword techniques but few other types of spells.

  Planting was a profound field, and after two years as an outer disciple, Zuo Mo had come to deeply understand this.

  The jade slip contained five elemental techniques, all related to planting, including the Minor Cloud and Rain Technique. When he saw this, a weight lifted from his heart—it was worth it! The jade slip’s explanation of the technique was more comprehensive and profound than what he had comprehended on his own.

  Fu Jin was right—specializing in one skill was more practical.

  But Zuo Mo had his own ideas.

  If he could master all five elemental techniques, with at least three reaching the third level, he could become a Spirit Planter. If he hadn’t broken through to the third level, he wouldn’t have considered this. But since he had managed to comprehend the third level, it showed he had talent in elemental techniques.

  If he handed over these spirit grains to the sect, the contribution points he earned could be exchanged for a decent sword technique.

  But he didn’t do that. What would he do with a sword technique? Chop firewood?

  In comparison, planting techniques were much more practical. Even if he didn’t master all of them, the more he learned, the better his planting skills would become. The sect had plenty of abandoned spirit fields. With enough spirit fields, he could grow more spirit grains, earn more spirit stones...

  As he thought about it, Zuo Mo’s mind grew clearer, and his drowsiness vanished.

  He sat up and touched his face. The muscles were stiff, like wood, which was why he could never make any other expressions.

  He didn’t care about beauty or ugliness; he cared about something else.

  The faint starlight bathed the courtyard, reflecting a silvery glow, like a rising mist of cold night air. In the midst of it, Zuo Mo’s expressionless face showed a hint of sorrow.

  Two years ago, the Wukong Sword Sect’s sect master had found Zuo Mo unconscious on his way back to the sect and brought him in. From the moment he woke up, he discovered that his memory was a complete blank. Over the past two years, he had tried every possible method but couldn’t find any trace of his memories from before.

  He had discovered one anomaly about himself—his face. Stiff as stone, he couldn’t make any expressions. The sect master said it might be a rare illness. Because of this face, he had initially been shunned by his fellow disciples and had endured many hardships.

  But he didn’t hate this face. It was one of the only two clues he had. Perhaps one day, this wooden face would remind him of something.

  Who am I... Where is my home...

  The other clue was the recurring dream. Whose voice was it? What was he not supposed to forget?

  But he had forgotten everything!

  He sighed inwardly and shook his head, as if trying to shake these thoughts out of his mind. He casually picked up the Sound Gui beside him and infused it with spiritual energy.

  The Sound Gui was one of the most popular magical artifacts in the cultivation world, consisting of a base and a round jade plate. It was inscribed with talismanic arrays that allowed it to receive transmissions from large-scale arrays. Zuo Mo’s Sound Gui was the most basic first-grade version, with a square nanmu base supporting a palm-sized round jade plate. When infused with spiritual energy, the jade plate glowed, its colors shifting, and a melodious voice emerged from it.

  "The Dutian Blood Realm has erupted in fierce conflict again, with twelve cultivator camps simultaneously attacked by a large-scale demon invasion. Casualties are heavy."

  "The Zhouding Sword Sect has discovered a new realm, with initial exploration revealing abundant spirit stone mines. It is reported that over fifteen sects have already dispatched high-level cultivators. Moreover, due to the large number of indigenous inhabitants, industry experts predict this may lead to a significant drop in the market price of cultivation slaves..."

  "After killing the renowned demon expert Ximoda, the Xishang Sword Sect of the Xishang Realm sought to refine his life feather into a flying sword. Today, the sword was finally completed, and it is said that sword energy extended for ten miles upon its creation. Experts from artifact refining sects estimate that this Golden Feather Sword has reached an astonishing seventh grade! The Xishang Sword Sect has gained another formidable weapon!"

  ...

  Under the starlight, Zuo Mo listened quietly. In the early days after he woke up, this crude Sound Gui had helped him gradually understand this world.

  It was also from then on that he developed the habit of listening to the Sound Gui every day.

  Whenever he felt restless, he would turn on the Sound Gui and listen quietly, and his mood would gradually calm down.

  The night was as still as water, the vast sky dotted with stars. A zombie sat quietly on the roof, lost in thought as he listened to the Sound Gui.