Liu San stood at the edge of a bottomless abyss, the fierce astral winds whipping his robes until they snapped like banners.Across the chasm floated San Cai Fang, a grand marketplace suspended among the clouds, radiant streams of light weaving between pavilions. From a distance, it seemed like a bustling paradise.
Yet, an uncrossable gulf loomed before him.With his weak cultivation and no flight treasure at hand, he had no way of reaching the airborne market.
What now?
His eyes soon caught sight of a wooden platform at the cliff's edge, where a small spiritual ferry of greenwood hovered. A steward-like cultivator leaned lazily against the prow, calling out without much interest:
"Jubao Pavilion ferry, setting out immediately! Ten spirit stones per person, fair price!"
"Ten spirit stones?"
Liu San frowned. He had no spirit stones on him—only San Cai Coins, which were left behind in Liu Meng's cave-dwelling for safekeeping. With his cultivation too weak to defend himself, carrying them around was simply inviting robbery.
Besides, Qin Shuang had already told him: to purchase within San Cai Fang, one need not bring the coins along.
The steward, noticing his hesitation, added with a smirk, still without lifting his eyelids:
"Of course, for honored guests headed to shop at Jubao Pavilion, the trip is free of charge."
Realization struck Liu San immediately—it was just another merchant's trick to lure customers.
Without hesitation, he stepped aboard and said evenly, "To Jubao Pavilion."
"Excellent, honored guest, please come inside!" The steward's lazy face instantly bloomed into a servile smile as he led Liu San aboard.
The ferry hummed and rose smoothly, gliding toward the opposite bank.As his view expanded, Liu San finally glimpsed the true face of San Cai Fang.
Beneath the glittering floating market, countless cavernous pits had been excavated, forming massive subterranean workshops. Inside, endless lines of cultivators, faces blank and eyes lifeless, toiled without rest.
They drew runes on talisman papers, pouring their meager spiritual power into each stroke.They refined raw ore into usable materials, hammering endlessly to forge magical tools.They tended pill furnaces, feeding flames with their essence, churning out batches of medicinal pills.
The scene struck Liu San like a thunderbolt.These were not free cultivators—but workers bound by flesh, spirit, and duty. A vast assembly line of human tools, their vitality spent for production.
Suddenly, the meaning of "San Cai Fang" became clear to him.The "Fang" was not just "marketplace"… it was also workshops.The goods sold above were mass-produced below, bought at cheap prices yet costing countless lives in sweat and spirit.
His understanding of this demonic sect deepened once more. Every corner of the sect reeked of cruelty, consumption, and exploitation.
Soon the ferry docked beside the Jubao Pavilion.Inside, treasures filled the shelves—so dazzling that Liu San was momentarily overwhelmed. Yet, after only a glance, shock pricked his heart again.
Most goods were absurdly cheap—no, it was that the purchasing power of San Cai Coins was terrifyingly high.
One hundred "Yang-Attracting Pills" cost only one coin.
Ten "Qi-Restoring Talismans" were priced the same.
Even thirty bone-piercing daggers went for just two coins.
By conversion, one San Cai Coin equaled nearly a hundred spirit stones.
Liu San quickly understood—these low prices were only possible because of the endless slave-like workshops below. Their labor slashed profit margins to the bone.
Still, not everything was cheap. Some rare pills and artifacts cost dozens, even hundreds of coins. Those were either too complex to mass-produce, or unique items impossible to replicate—far beyond his current means.
But Liu San's goal was singular: a soul banner.
He scoured every corner of Jubao Pavilion, but found not a single one. Frowning deeply, he went straight to the counter and addressed the dozing old shopkeeper.
"May I ask, do you sell soul banners here?"
At once, the old man jolted upright, his cloudy eyes widening. He waved his hands frantically.
"Soul banners? Absolutely not! Jubao Pavilion never sells such things! Not just us—all of San Cai Fang forbids soul banners!"
Liu San's brows tightened. "Why? Are they too rare? Too precious?"
"Precious?" The old man barked a cold laugh. "They're not precious at all. But do you even know what the 'Three Talents' of San Cai Fang are?"
Liu San shook his head calmly. Better to admit ignorance now—his next incarnation would know anyway.
The shopkeeper's lips curled into a deathly grin, his rasping voice more like a corpse than a man's:
"Human skin. Human bones. Human blood. These are the Three Talents!"
"Skin for talismans. Bone for artifacts. Blood for pills. That is the flesh trade of San Cai Fang. But the soul—that, we never touch. Soul banners are the business of Luo Feng City, the ghost cultivators' playground. Not ours."
Liu San kept his face unreadable, though inside he scoffed.
Three Talents? More like three materials. What kind of twisted genius came up with this name?
Still, if San Cai Fang refused to touch soul banners, he had no choice. Silently, he engraved the name Luo Feng City in his memory.
Just as he turned to leave, the old man's voice rang out sharply.
"Wait."
The shopkeeper's murky eyes swept over him, measuring. "You look like a greenhorn straight out of the cradle. Do you think just anyone can stroll into Luo Feng City? You need proof."
After rummaging under the counter, he produced a black talisman inscribed with a grinning blue-faced ghost, and tossed it to Liu San.
"Take this. Three hundred li north of the market lies a dead city. At midnight, stand beneath the crooked old locust tree in the center. Burn this 'Guiding Talisman,' and the path to Luo Feng City will reveal itself."
The moment Liu San touched it, a chill seeped into his bones, leaving him uneasy. Clearly, this was no benevolent charm. Still, he tucked it away safely.
"My thanks, Shopkeeper." He bowed politely, then pointed at a shelf. "Send one hundred Yang-Attracting Pills to this cave dwelling. The payment will be made upon delivery."
With that, he left the shop, boarded another ferry, and after orienting himself, sped northward—toward the unknown Dead City…