Chapter 11: Wuchao Town

Liu Xiaolou pushed the bamboo raft into the water, braced himself with a long bamboo pole, and leapt aboard. The raft spun briefly, then quickly caught the current and drifted downstream. He hadn’t floated more than a dozen yards before a waterfall, about ten feet high, appeared ahead. The raft plunged straight off the edge. Just as it dropped, Liu Xiaolou tapped his toes against the raft and let his body rise slightly into the air. Sensing that the raft was about to flip, he grounded his true qi, pushed off with his back foot, and stabilized its forward momentum. It landed cleanly in the water below. He shifted his waist to the left, guiding the raft smoothly around a hidden reef. The whole sequence flowed like one continuous motion. “Whoo-hoo!” Liu Xiaolou let out a cheer, completely caught up in the fun. The upper stretch of the Wuchao River was notoriously dangerous. In the past, Liu Xiaolou wouldn’t have dared to navigate it on his own. But now, with his cultivation at a higher level, his movement, awareness, balance, and even his control over his true qi had all improved dramatically. Weaving through waterfalls, rapids, and submerged rocks, he felt an incredible sense of freedom. In less than half an hour, he had come down from the mountain and merged into the lower stretch of the river, where the current grew calmer. Fishing boats and ferries began to appear on the water. Along the riverbank, lush green rice fields stretched out. The heavy, ripe grain bent the stalks low; it looked like harvest time was just a few days away. Houses started to cluster along the banks, and more and more people appeared. After turning around a bend in the river, a bustling little town came into view — Wuchao Town. As the raft drifted close to shore, Liu Xiaolou jumped onto dry land. The raft continued floating downstream, but he didn’t bother with it. Next time he came down the mountain, he’d just build a new one. Wuchao Town was built around a single main street running east to west. Shops, eateries, taverns, and teahouses lined both sides. At first glance, it didn’t look much different from any other village, but the side alleys branching off the main road were another story. Those narrow lanes were where rogue cultivators from Mount Wulong came to trade. And not just them. Many from across Jing and Xiang had heard of this place and came here on purpose. Of course, the goods traded here couldn’t compare to what you'd find in Tanzhou, the big city sixty miles away. But for rogue cultivators from Mount Wulong, it was the safest place to do business. Technically, Manager Su of the Loyal Righteous Workshop in Tanzhou owed him a big favor and would pay handsomely for quality items, but the problem was, that spirit herb he carried had been taken from the Jinping Manor. And Jinping Manor, like the Loyal Righteous Workshop, was part of the Dongyang Sect’s outer network. Selling it to the Workshop would be no different from turning himself in. Liu Xiaolou had been to Wuchao Town many times before with his teacher, Master Sanxuan. He knew the place like the back of his hand and was familiar with all the local rules and customs. Heading east along the main street, he came to the first alley, where two women stood watch. The older one was known as Mama Zhang. She’d been the madam of the last generation, and though she’d once been quite the beauty in her day, time had not been kind. The younger one, on the other hand, still had charm to spare. Not yet thirty, she was good-looking and carried herself with style. Her name was Sister Qing, and back in the day she’d been the top courtesan for miles around. She didn’t take clients anymore, but to many rogue cultivators from Mount Wulong, she was still something of a fairy goddess. Out-of-towners who were new to Wuchao Town often followed Sister Qing in, dazzled by her looks; she really was considered the flower of Mount Wulong. But the locals usually went with Mama Zhang. Despite her age, Mama Zhang’s girls were generally better-looking than Sister Qing’s crew. Unless Sister Qing was taking clients herself, which was rare, most who chose her ended up regretting it. In the path of cultivation, balancing yin and yang was no small matter; it was the whole reason dual cultivation existed in the first place. When Liu Xiaolou was younger, still early in his training, his teacher didn’t allow him to practice the Sanxuan Sect’s yin-yang balancing techniques. He was only expected to memorize the theory, with the promise that he’d start real practice after he turned eighteen and reached a higher level of cultivation. But for his teacher, there were no such restrictions. This alley was a regular stop for him. Whenever he paid a visit, he’d buy Liu Xiaolou a pear, tell him to wait by the corner wall, and then head in himself for a leisurely, pleasant time. Much of what Liu Xiaolou knew about Mama Zhang and Sister Qing came from the lessons his teacher had passed down over the past couple of years. Unfortunately, by the time Liu Xiaolou turned eighteen, his teacher had already passed on, ascending to the heavens. Now, walking past the alley, memories of his teacher’s words came flooding back, and he couldn’t help but pause. That moment of hesitation was all it took for Sister Qing to come gliding over. “Well, well,” she said with a teasing smile. “Isn’t this our young Immortal Liu? What’s this? Have you finally turned eighteen?” Liu Xiaolou froze for a second, caught off guard by how well she seemed to know him. It had to be something his teacher mentioned while he was still alive. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Ahem... yeah... I have.” Sister Qing immediately lit up. “Well, that’s great news! Hit a bottleneck in your cultivation? Sent down the mountain by your master? Come on, let’s go to my place. I’ll check your pulse myself...” As she spoke, she reached out and tried to tug him along. Sister Qing had trained as a martial artist when she was younger and knew a bit of real combat. Without those skills, she wouldn’t have been able to manage the women under her. But that didn’t count for much in front of Liu Xiaolou. With a light twist of his arm, he slipped free of her grasp. Still, she’d had her eye on this handsome young cultivator from the Sanxuan Sect for a while now, and she wasn’t about to let him get away so easily. She pressed herself right up against him, laughing as she clung to him. “First time, huh? Don’t worry, no fee for your first consultation. I’ll check your pulse personally.” Liu Xiaolou stood there, unsure what to do. Then, from nearby, Mama Zhang, who was leaning against the wall, suddenly asked, “And where’s your teacher?” "He passed on. Half a year ago,” Liu Xiaolou replied quietly. Just like that, the mood changed. Mama Zhang froze. Even Sister Qing stopped laughing. She stared at Liu Xiaolou in silence, then reached out and gently patted his head with a sigh. Liu Xiaolou gave them both a small nod, then slipped out of Sister Qing’s arms and walked toward the next alley. This alley had a row of open wooden stalls. Dozens of cultivators sat cross-legged inside, spaced a few yards apart, paired off in quiet conversation. No one showed off any valuables in the open; if you were trying to sell something truly rare, you'd never just lay it out on a mat. You had to go up and ask, one by one. Liu Xiaolou could’ve joined in at any time, just by picking a spot and sitting down. Sooner or later, someone would come talk to him. Buying and selling here was always a two-way thing. You could say he’d come to buy spirit stones, but the only thing he had to offer was that one spirit herb. Liu Xiaolou walked slowly along the row of wooden stalls, glancing at each pair as he passed. He didn’t recognize a single face, so he picked an empty spot and sat down cross-legged to observe for a while. He hadn’t been sitting long when someone came over. “Hey there, little brother. Looking to sell something?” This was Liu Xiaolou’s first time coming here on his own, and his teacher’s words echoed in his mind: When you come here by yourself, be careful. Watch more, talk less. Don’t let anyone sweet-talk you out of your goods. With that in mind, he didn’t say much. “Just looking around,” he replied. “Taking my time.” The man chuckled. “Cautious; nothing wrong with that. But you’ll have to show your goods eventually. If I make an offer and you don’t like it, just say no. What do you think I’m going to do, rob you? Everyone here knows the rules.” That was true. In Wuchao Town’s market, open robbery was forbidden. Anyone caught trying would be fair game for everyone around; that was the unspoken law. Liu Xiaolou considered for a moment, then took out the spirit herb. “Picked it up outside the mountain. Take a look.” The man studied it for a bit. “What kind of herb is this?” Clearly, he didn’t recognize it. Liu Xiaolou quietly put it away. “A treasure needs the right buyer. If it’s not for you, then it’s not meant to be.” The man nodded and wandered off to another stall. Liu Xiaolou let out a silent breath of relief and continued to wait. Before long, two more people approached. Neither of them recognized the herb either. One simply shook his head and left. The other offered a price; one hundred taels of silver or fifty liters of spirit grain. Liu Xiaolou refused without hesitation.