Chapter 90: The Underground Exchange

The attendant’s face grew impatient.
“If you have any questions, just ask your elders at home. None of you aristocratic disciples are any good.”
Lu Han heard the slightly hostile tone and wondered at its cause.
He forced a bitter smile. “Brother, I believe this is our first meeting. Besides, I’m not one of those noble disciples. It’s my first time here on the Chaotic Soul Plains—I haven’t offended you, have I?”
Lu Han was truly suffering from a disaster not of his making; the attendant had mistaken him for a scion of a noble house.
The attendant regarded Lu Han skeptically. Since Lu Han was only at the eighth tier of the Postnatal Realm, he assumed Lu Han was a disciple of some great family or sect, come here to broaden his horizons. The Chaotic Soul Plains did have a few practitioners at the Postnatal Realm, mostly sons of families or sect disciples sent to gain experience.
The attendant’s hostility toward Lu Han stemmed from his left arm.
Years ago, while hunting beasts outside the ancient basin, he had fought with all his might to kill a monster, suffering grave wounds in the process. Just as he was about to claim his hard-won prize, a self-proclaimed noble disciple appeared, not only stealing the beast he had risked his life for but also severing his arm. Ever since, his strength had declined sharply, and his cultivation stagnated. Forced to make a living as an attendant in the ancient basin, he harbored nothing but resentment—and even hostility—toward noble scions.
“You really are alone, first time in the ancient basin? But your cultivation…” The attendant looked doubtful.
Lu Han’s dark eyes gleamed like stars. “Granted, it’s difficult for someone at the Postnatal Realm to make it here from the outskirts, but isn’t there always a sliver of chance? If I were one of those noble disciples, I’d go straight to the station—why come here?”
The attendant’s embarrassment showed; indeed, he had mistaken Lu Han for one of them. Few at the Postnatal Realm dared venture here alone, especially at the eighth tier. Even the common Blackwind Wolves of the plains would likely be too much for him.
Lu Han’s explanation convinced him, and he clarified he wasn’t deliberately targeting Lu Han, then told his own story.
When he finished, Lu Han expressed his understanding—it was, after all, a feud born from the loss of an arm.
“Young brother, forgive me. I took you for one of those family disciples, thought you’d come to train. Listen, if you have any questions, ask away—I’ll tell you everything I know.”
The attendant said.
...
The night was as cool as water, darkness slowly descending.
Night here on the Chaotic Soul Plains was unlike outside. The sky was gray-black, and the moon hung dull and cold, its pale light carrying a chill that seemed to seep into the soul. Not only Lu Han felt this way—even Old Man Ling had remarked on it.
Lu Han lay with his hands behind his head, pondering the attendant’s words from earlier.

Because of the Wen family’s presence, trading Soul-Stealing Minks was forbidden in the ancient basin. Of course, clandestine transactions still happened, but anyone caught by the Wen family would face endless pursuit. No one wanted to offend one of the five great families of the Imperial Capital for the sake of a single Soul-Stealing Mink. The Wen family was domineering, but if you were willing to sell your mink to them, they’d pay a fair price.
“What a hassle. Tomorrow, I’ll check out the underground market.” With that thought, Lu Han drifted into sleep. He’d scarcely rested in days, his body taut with tension, but tonight he could finally relax.
In the ancient basin, the underground market was a peculiar place. Before entering, you’d be required to don a cloak and mask, guaranteeing your anonymity. The market bustled with people; as long as two parties struck a deal, anything could be obtained—goods, information. The attendant had suggested Lu Han try his luck there, since no one knew anyone’s identity, and the Wen family wouldn’t cause trouble. Once outside, who could tell who you’d just spoken with?
...
At dawn, Lu Han set out early.
Following the directions given by the attendant, he headed toward the underground market.
The ancient basin stretched for dozens of miles, and Lu Han still had some distance to cover.
He prepared a cloak, a bit oversized and loose on him. Though the attendant said the underground market wouldn’t leak any information, caution was always wise—Lu Han didn’t like gambling on such uncertainties.
He threaded through the dense crowd. No wonder people needed an ancient basin pass; there were simply too many here—some driven by necessity, some forced in, some hunting beasts, others chasing the legacy of the ten strongest of the Grand Xia Empire—countless motives.
A large banner bearing the character for “Earth” appeared before Lu Han; this was the entrance to the underground market.
Stepping inside, Lu Han found it empty except for a wooden box on the left—no sign of a market.
Suddenly, a man appeared before him.
“Is this your first time at our underground market? Don’t you know to ‘cast a stone to find the path’?” the man asked.
At that moment, Old Man Ling masked Lu Han’s aura, making his cultivation impossible to discern. If Lu Han, at the peak of the eighth tier of the Postnatal Realm, entered openly, he’d draw attention, and sharp-eyed observers would soon identify him.
Some secret arts on the Continent of Heaven’s Vault could conceal one’s cultivation, so the man wasn’t surprised. Lu Han had no wish to become a target.
“Cast a stone to find the path? My apologies, it’s indeed my first time here. Please enlighten me,” Lu Han replied, making a respectful gesture.
The man’s demeanor softened upon hearing this.
“To cast a stone to find the path, place five thousand gold coins in the box on the far left of the tent.” With that, the man vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared.
Lu Han’s mouth twitched—this was no pathfinding ritual, it was an entrance fee!

He had no choice; the rules were the rules, and no one was forcing him.
Lu Han took five thousand gold coins from his storage ring and placed them in the wooden box, which immediately sank out of sight.
A rumbling sound echoed.
A large hole appeared in the center of the tent, leading underground.
“It’s a mechanism—only the weight of five thousand coins triggers it. Go on, the underground market is below.” Old Man Ling’s voice rang in Lu Han’s mind.
Lu Han nodded and jumped down.
As soon as he landed, torches flared up. A burly man strode toward him, massive and broad-shouldered, wearing a tiger-head mask. His exposed shoulders bulged with veins, and his aura revealed he’d reached the second tier of the Innate Realm.
“Welcome to the ancient basin’s underground market. With your attire, you won’t need our cloak. Here’s your mask—please put it on and follow me,” the man rumbled.
Lu Han accepted the mask—a wolf-head design.
He followed the tiger-masked man through winding corridors, as if traversing an underground palace.
“This underground market is quite mysterious,”
Lu Han mused to himself.
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