The Eternal Sin

Jiang Chen sat atop a hump of hardened flesh, a ten-meter cloth of coarse grey hemp spread neatly before him.

Upon it rested over a hundred kinds of spirit herbs. Thunder Cloud Grass flickered with faint sparks of purple lightning, while Clear Moon Orchid exuded a subtle fragrance that seemed to calm the soul. And Black Sand Ginseng twitched its root tendrils as if dreaming of burrowing back into the earth.

Every herb from the Jade Heart Plantation was displayed for sale, with small plaques placed before each, bearing their names, common uses, and the prices at which he offered them.

Two shadowy figures stood at the edge of the cloth, silently examining a cluster of Verdant Spirit Grass.

Jiang Chen felt no satisfaction at the sight, for they were his clones, summoned only to create the illusion of popularity that might entice passing cultivators to stop and linger.

Yet even this trick fell flat.

Most cultivators merely glanced once and continued onward, their curiosity unsated.

Jiang Chen reflected in his heart upon the cold reality of his situation. ’I knew these herbs would not be popular here, but not to this depressing extent. Even with my clones at work and prices set below the usual market rate, the result is utterly unsatisfactory.’

’Only Blood Essence Grass and Clear Moon Orchid have been completely liquidated. While I have pocketed six thousand spirit stones from those transactions, the bulk of my inventory remains untouched. The Black Market will seal its gates in another seven hours. No matter what, today I must sell them all.’

He understood the fundamental problem with his business model. The majority of his herbs were staples of the righteous path, used for stabilizing foundations, purifying meridians, aiding pill making, and producing magical treasures.

Demonic-path cultivators seldom found use for such materials. The items they prized most were human in origin. That was not to say that none would purchase these herbs; there were certainly those whose cultivation skills and methods of earning depended on utilizing such materials. Rogue pill refiners and unorthodox doctors could profit from his stock, yet Jiang Chen had simply not encountered them in this corner of the market.

His primary hope had been to catch the eye of clan agents or sect disciples who had disguised themselves to venture here. Such people would recognize the profit in buying his stock in bulk and reselling it to their organizations at market price.

Two hours passed in this manner. Over that time, he did manage to attract a few such individuals who purchased several crates of high-grade roots. This brought his total earnings to thirteen thousand two hundred spirit stones, yet approximately seventy percent of his original stock still remained.

Jiang Chen finally reached the limit of his patience.

He was not a man to sit and wait for the heavens to drop coins into his bowl. If customers would not come to him, then he would bring the transaction to their very throats.

He packed his wares with a flick of his sleeves and began walking toward the deeper sections.

After spending nearly ten minutes navigating tunnels of calcified muscle, he arrived at the entrance to the intestine area.

The gateway was massive, formed by a ring of petrified sphincter muscle that pulsed with a faint, sickly light. The traffic here was dense, hundreds of cultivators flowing in and out of the tunnel like ants in a rotten log. It was the primary artery of trade in this sector of the market.

Jiang Chen studied the flow of people and nodded to himself. This was the stage he needed to conduct business.

He did not rush to act.

First, he retreated to a quiet corner behind a massive tendon and summoned two more clones, bringing his total force to four.

He handed each of them concealment talismans matching his own. To one clone, he handed a set of enchanted teeth he had recently purchased. After sliding the treasure into the mouth of his leading clone, he felt the connection lock. The clone could now speak in accordance with his will, adopting varying voices through the artifact.

Next, he withdrew a massive sheet of beast skin and began to inscribe upon it with a brush dipped in ink made from crushed charcoal and spirit beast gall. Once the banner was complete, he took five Yellow Rank peak-grade movement talismans and affixed them to the soles of his feet. He knew the effects would not stack in speed, but this ensured he would not lose agility in the heat of a struggle or have to adjust mid-scenario due to talismans burning out.

He then produced two Qi Nourishing Pills. One was tucked safely into the folds of his robe while the other was placed under his tongue, kept dormant until the moment of crisis. The preparations were complete, costing him around two thousand spirit stones.

Jiang Chen felt no sting of regret. He knew the philosophy that to catch a giant fish, one must first be willing to invest in the bait.

He walked alone into the open intestine area. With no particular expression, he drew his sword and began carving a line into the hardened flesh beneath him.

Passersby slowed, dozens of curious cultivators turning their eyes toward him.

"Oi! What are you doing? Scrawling your will before you die?" a voice jeered from the crowd.

Jiang Chen ignored him. He took five steps forward and carved a second line parallel to the first. He then retrieved two long bony poles from his storage ring, taken from the remains of the White Bone River Turtle. With a surge of physical strength, he drove the poles into the flesh on either side of the passage and hung the animal-skin banner between them.

As the passing crowd began to read the massive characters written upon the skin, their expressions transformed from curiosity to shock and then to burning fury. Curses erupted from a hundred throats through the narrow passage, and intersecting strands of killing intent surged like a heavenly tribulation aimed at him.

Jiang Chen stood perfectly still between the two lines. His hands were clasped behind his back, his chin raised in a gesture of absolute arrogance.

He gazed coolly at the roaring mob of demonic cultivators whose eyes burned red with murderous intent. He spoke in a voice amplified by his internal essence.

"For the illiterate among you who cannot read, I will state the matter. I am occupying this passage. Anyone wishing to cross this place must either purchase a single herb from my collection or hand over one hundred spirit stones as toll. Those who are unwilling to pay but still harbor the desire to cross may step over this line and accept their deaths!"