Nine Transformations of the True Spirit

Tianji Island.

The moment Chen Yuan stepped into the ghost market, a damp and cold air hit him in the face.

The stalactites hanging from the ceiling glowed with a faint phosphorescent light, like countless inverted swords, dyeing the entire underground cave a blue-gray color.

The water droplets condensed on the stone wall reflected tiny rays of light, like a sky full of stars.

The densely packed buildings are spread out along a winding underground river.

Countless lotus lanterns floated on the river, with the wicks burning with an eternal spiritual fire, reflecting the water surface with shimmering light.

These lotus lanterns move slowly with the flow of water, casting swaying light and shadows on the stone walls of the cave, as if there were graceful dancers dancing gracefully.

The ghost market on Tianji Island is bustling all day long, with monks wearing masks, scarves and bamboo hats walking back and forth, and the crowds of people are always weaving. Occasionally, a monk wearing Tianji Sect's robes passes by with a solemn expression and sharp eyes.

"bite--"

Low bell sounds echoed in the air. This seemed like an ordinary market. In front of each stall, there was a black bell hanging, which kept trembling.

The stall owners behind the stalls, like the monks passing by, all covered their faces. When they talked to people, their voices were either hoarse and unpleasant, or sharp and piercing, all of which concealed their original sounds.

And the things on the stall in front of them were even more chilling.

There were corpses of monks with twisted features, ghosts imprisoned in black bowls, and jars of blood that gave off a pungent, bloody smell...

Each and every one of them is something needed for the cultivation of magic, and only in the ghost market can they be displayed openly.

But in addition to these, there are also stalls displaying spiritual weapons, such as flying swords and copper hammers, golden spears and iron shields, as well as spiritual herbs and elixirs, talismans and flags. Everything sold in the market can be found here.

However, everyone knows that these things are of dubious origin and difficult to sell. Some of them are even treasures obtained from monks from the three major sects, otherwise they would never be put on the ghost market for sale.

There were no monks shouting their wares; everyone sat silently behind their stalls, with only occasional whispers. A feeling of oppression permeated the entire ghost market.

Chen Yuan wore a gold-thread hollow mask on his face and walked with his hands behind his back in this seemingly mundane market. His white clothes were stained with a layer of bluish-gray under the phosphorescent light, making him look particularly strange.

His eyes swept across the stalls on both sides, his expression was leisurely and calm, as if he had already gotten used to the eerie atmosphere of the ghost market.

A month had passed since he had discussed with Master Ningsu.

In the past month, he would come to the ghost market every five or six days, spend a few hours wandering around as if nothing had happened, and then return to his residence.

The Ghost Market does not ask about one’s origin, but anyone who enters must at least be a foundation-building cultivator, and must also pay a large sum of money to the Tianji Sect, especially those who want to sell treasures.

Therefore, those who can open a shop in the ghost market are all financially strong and have the support of a sect or family.

As for those who have limited financial resources, or who only have one or two treasures to sell, they can only humble themselves and rent a stall to sell their treasures like ordinary people.

However, the Tianji Sect was considerate enough to provide a black bell for the monks setting up stalls. All they had to do was inject magic power into it and it would make a sound to attract passing monks. They didn't need to shout out their wares themselves, so it was considered to have retained some dignity.

Every time Chen Yuan entered the Ghost Market, he would stroll around this several-mile-long market, walking from beginning to end, occasionally buying a few three-hundred-year-old, five-hundred-year-old, or eight-hundred-year-old spiritual herbs that could be used to refine Demon Yuan Dan, and then leave leisurely.

His cultivation level has reached nearly the top of the human world, and there are only a few treasures that can attract his attention.

Only thousand-year-old spiritual herbs, high-level magic weapons, top-grade spiritual materials and other things can make Chen Yuan stop.

These things are treasures that are enough to make other Nascent Soul cultivators salivate. They will never be seen in the ghost market, let alone be displayed on simple stalls.

Chen Yuan knew this very well, and every time he entered the ghost market, he gained very little.

But he did not show any impatience. He just walked slowly, his eyes casually sweeping across the stalls on both sides with a leisurely look.

Half an hour later, Chen Yuan finally arrived at the middle of the market, which was also the most prosperous place in the entire market.

There are densely packed stalls on both sides of the road, and the majority of monks stop by to shop.

A buzzing sound lingered in Chen Yuan's ears as the monks passing by bargained with the stall owners.

In front of some stalls, there were even several monks gathered, fighting for the same treasure.

Chen Yuan did not stop and continued to walk slowly forward.

If he couldn't see the treasures on the stalls, he would spread out his spiritual sense to scan, but still nothing caught his eye.

He walked forward another dozen feet, but his pace couldn't help but slow down.

There were actually more than a dozen monks gathered around a stall ahead, blocking half of the already narrow road.

Not only that, more monks came forward and asked for prices, which diluted the eerie and strange atmosphere in the ghost market.

Chen Yuan's heart moved, and he spread out his spiritual sense, scanning the stalls. Then his eyes flashed, and he quickened his pace and came to the stalls crowded with monks.

The stall was not big and had been surrounded by monks, but as Chen Yuan moved forward, an invisible force spread out, and the monks in front involuntarily retreated to the side, making way for a passage.

Chen Yuan walked slowly forward and came to the front of the stall. The monks around him were angry but dared not say a word, and even dared not look Chen Yuan in the eye. They lowered their heads and stepped aside, and the voices asking about the price disappeared.

They were at least foundation-building cultivators, and there were even a few Jindan cultivators. They naturally knew that anyone who could use such means was definitely not someone they could match.

Chen Yuan stopped and saw an open wooden box on the stall. Inside the box was a strange red leaf, several inches long and shaped like a winding dragon or snake.

It was this red leaf that attracted more than a dozen monks to stop and watch.

Behind the stall, a monk was sitting cross-legged on a cushion, his face covered with a mask painted with pine and bamboo. The mask was made of a material that looked like jade but not jade, and gold but not gold. It was gleaming with a faint light, revealing only a pair of bright eyes that were moving slightly.

Chen Yuan lowered his head and stared at the red leaf in the box, then slowly said, "Where did you get this dragon snake leaf, Daoist friend?"

The monk wearing the pine and bamboo mask looked Chen Yuan up and down and said calmly: "The dragon snake leaves are naturally picked from the dragon snake grass."

Chen Yuan raised his eyes slightly and looked at the monk wearing the pine and bamboo mask: "Do you have the dragon snake grass?"

The monk wearing the pine and bamboo mask nodded slightly: "Of course."

Chen Yuan smiled slightly: "In that case, please take out this dragon snake grass, I want it."

The monks around did not disperse. When they heard this, they all showed sarcasm in their eyes.

Although they did not want to provoke the unfathomable cultivator in front of them, in this ghost market, with the Tianji Sect maintaining order, this person would not be able to embarrass them.

A trace of disdain flashed across the eyes of the monk with the pine and bamboo mask: "I only sell the dragon snake grass to Yuanying monks, so please go back, fellow Taoist." (End of this chapter)