Vessel of Worlds

Andy walked alone into the second floor's main hall and found three or four Foundation Establishment cultivators already waiting in the square-backed chairs.

Among them, a long-bearded mid-stage cultivator was at the counter completing his rental; a short early-stage youth stood in line a zhang behind him.

Two more—one stout, one lean, both middle-aged and at late-stage Foundation Establishment—were very likely here to prepare for Core Formation as well.

These two were in no hurry to choose dwellings. They sat off to the side, whispering to each other by Voice Transmission.

Seeing the arrangement, Andy took his place behind the early-stage cultivator.

The short youth swept a glance over Andy, sensed that this refined-looking young man of apparently twenty-odd years carried unfathomable cultivation—late-stage at the very least—and immediately bowed, insisting that Andy go ahead of him.

Andy didn't decline. With a word of thanks, he stepped forward without ceremony.

That put him within three zhang of the two whispering late-stage cultivators. With a spiritual sense a full measure beyond his peers', at such close range—and with the pair using no further screening arts—their secret transmissions drifted, under Andy's deliberate listening, straight into his ears.

"That place is in the Immortal Island of Yingzhou's territory—isn't it too dangerous? I hear that over that way, unlucky cultivators have their souls drawn and refined every year—they don't even spare the corpses; those get refined too. Heterodox techniques are twisted and strange—bad business to run into!" the leaner cultivator was saying.

"The place may have been discovered first by some great Yingzhou sect, but it's since been taken over jointly by the powers of all Three Immortal Islands. And this time our Orthodox Dao Alliance and Fangzhang's Hundred Sects Alliance are both sending large contingents of Foundation Establishment disciples. What's to fear from heterodox tricks and ghost-play?" the stout one replied, unimpressed.

"Even so, I'm uneasy. If that many people really go, how many can actually obtain the two treasures? There'll be slaughter over it, mark me. The place will be packed with the elite of the Foundation Establishment ranks—in those conditions, the odds of dying run higher than hunting beasts alone!" the lean man fretted.

"Heh—if you want treasures like Three Flames Heavenly Fire Liquid and Nine Colds Mystic Nether Water, how could there be no risk at all?" the stout cultivator said with faint scorn. "Relax. I've asked around thoroughly. The place is hard to enter but easy to leave—once we find the treasures, we can withdraw from the danger zone whenever we please."

Andy's attention snapped taut. Three Flames Heavenly Fire Liquid and Nine Colds Mystic Nether Water—two spirit-waters of opposite extremes, one searing, one freezing. Anointing the body with both while assaulting the Core Formation bottleneck stimulated the flesh's latent potential and stabilized the dantian, raising the odds of success by half a percent to a full percent.

Without them, Andy had planned to buy other hot- and cold-attribute spirit liquids in the market—far weaker substitutes, barely better than nothing.

Both liquids formed only in the most extreme environments, distilled drop by drop across thousands or tens of thousands of years. They had been all but extinct in the Star Sea for ages; Andy had never even entertained hopes of obtaining them.

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Yet here was word of both treasures' whereabouts. His whole mind sharpened.

But the two men had evidently finished their deliberations; both had sunk into silent thought, saying no more.

By then the mid-stage cultivator ahead had chosen a dwelling to his liking, paid his stones, and left the building.

The rental administrators were likewise two Foundation Establishment cultivators, one old and one young, both late-stage, in matching Orthodox Dao Alliance dress.

Noting Andy's peak late-stage cultivation, the old one said courteously: "The fellow cultivator seeks a dwelling of abundant spiritual energy for the attempt at Core Formation, I take it."

The younger-looking one chimed in: "Our Immortal Island of Penglai has seen many cultivators succeed at Core Formation over the years. We wish you the fulfillment of your aspiration!"

"My thanks to you both." Andy smiled and saluted. "That is indeed my errand. What would you recommend? Ideally somewhere with dense spiritual energy and real quiet—I've no love of bustle."

"Heh—such dwellings exist, certainly, though they run a little dearer. Against their value, an excellent bargain. Only, the richest ground—Penglai Peak—is held almost entirely by seniors of Core Formation and above; Foundation Establishment cultivators like us cannot enjoy it," the old man answered.

"Quite right. On the sixteenth terrace of Upper Clarity Peak there's a dwelling of generous grounds with no neighbors for dozens of kilometers—perfect for a cultivator who loves quiet. Its energy density trails Penglai Peak's a shade, but it's still a peak-grade vein of the first order." The youth produced a scroll and spread it before Andy. "There's also a dwelling on Upper Clarity's fourteenth terrace—smaller, but considerably cheaper. And the nineteenth terrace of Jade Clarity Peak is very fine as well."

The scroll, several chi across, depicted three graceful, soaring peaks, their slopes stippled densely with points of gold and silver light.

"Every point of light is a dwelling. Gold means already rented. Silver, the fellow cultivator may choose freely," the old man added.

The youth tapped several silver points—the dwellings he had just recommended.

As with the enormous scroll on West Star Island, Andy needed only to fix his spiritual sense on a silver point for its particulars to appear: size, energy density, appended features, price—everything a cultivator cared about.

After careful study, Andy made his choice. "My thanks for the guidance. I'll take Dwelling Seven on the seventeenth terrace of Jade Clarity Peak."

"A fine eye! That dwelling is complete in every function, and its appended restriction is formidable—against the price of three hundred stones a year, excellent value. Only—these dwellings lease for fifty years at minimum, so the fellow cultivator must pay fifteen thousand spirit stones!" the old man said approvingly.

Andy laughed inwardly. Had he picked any other dwelling at random, the old man would doubtless have praised it just the same.

His reasons were simple enough: the place was remote, and complete—crafting room, alchemy chamber, meditation cell, bedchamber, all present, plus a rear garden of fair size for growing spirit herbs. Andy had no plans to garden, but the space would serve his Ice-Wind Python for play.

Spirit beasts were not like men—they could not be kept forever at meditation in a stone cell. That slowly wore away the thread of wildness that made them beasts, and their strength dulled for it. Letting a spirit beast out to romp now and then was a genuine necessity.

Moreover, the dwelling's appended restriction was the famed Minor Five Elements Restriction Formation—powerful in defense and utterly domineering in blocking spiritual sense. He could cultivate behind it in full peace of mind.

Fifteen thousand spirit stones equaled a dozen-odd rank-three and rank-four beast cores. An ordinary late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator would typically spend years risking his life hunting in the Outer Star Sea to earn as much.

And the Orthodox Dao Alliance had only to lease out these dwellings to collect such sums—to say nothing of the taxes from Penglai's enormous market!

Seen that way, the Orthodox Dao Alliance certainly knew the roads to wealth.

Wearing an expression of exquisite pain, Andy counted out a hundred-odd mid-grade spirit stones and handed them to the old man—who tallied them cheerfully, then presented Andy with an exquisite palm-sized jade plate and a jade slip, and marked the light on Jade Clarity Peak's seventeenth terrace as rented.

Andy was then asked to register his name and sect affiliation. He wrote his name, added the words "rogue cultivator," and left the building.

But he did not go far. He took up a quiet station beside the three-storied building—and waited.