Chapter Thirteen: The Scarred Pot

“It seems that this time during the Xingyuan Sect’s recruitment, some lucky fellow was taken in as the Sect Master’s disciple. Could it be this person?”
“Most likely, but with his background, why would he come here? Is he representing Xingyuan Sect?”
When Zhou Xuanhong saw the crowd fall silent, he understood well what his identity represented in this territory. In the eyes of these itinerant cultivators, he was someone lofty and untouchable.
“Fellow Daoists, there’s no need to panic. I’m just here to buy some groceries—please continue your business.”
The crowd finally relaxed, immediately gathering around, eager to curry favor—some nearly thrusting all their produce at Zhou Xuanhong.
In response, Zhou Xuanhong used his late-stage Qi Refining aura to keep them at bay. He waved to the Qi Refining sixth-level cultivator selling the Giant Fire Ox. “Fellow Daoist, I have something to discuss with you.”
“Me?” The burly man pointed to himself uncertainly.
Zhou Xuanhong raised his hand, and a spirit sword at his waist expanded dozens of times in a pulse of spiritual energy, carrying them both up into the sky.
This was a treasure from the storage pouch the Sect Master had given him—a lower-grade spiritual artifact, flashy and befitting his status.
Though the burly man was imposing in stature, he now stood awkwardly before Zhou Xuanhong, bowing and not daring to meet his eyes.
“What’s your name?”
The burly man replied, “I’m Xu Biao. You can just call me Biaozi.”
Zhou Xuanhong didn’t mind. “I sought you out because I want to cooperate with you.”
Xu Biao was startled and waved his hands. “Sir, you must be joking. I’m just a middling Qi Refining cultivator. How could I possibly be worthy of working with you?”
Zhou Xuanhong smiled. “Even a small figure has his uses. For me, this cooperation is no big deal. If you complete the task, I’ll allow you to join Xingyuan Sect. How about it?”
Xu Biao’s eyes shone. “Do you mean it, Sir?”
Zhou Xuanhong answered offhandedly, “I have no reason to lie to a mid-stage Qi Refiner. Listen to your task: collect for me a large number of powerful beast corpses rich in blood essence, as well as semi-spiritual herbs containing spiritual energy. Spirit herbs that can be taken directly are also acceptable. Deliver them daily to the sect gate—someone will come to collect them.”
He then tossed Xu Biao a storage pouch—the one he’d seized from the Wang clan’s treasury. Now that he had a higher-grade pouch from Xuan Qizi, keeping this old one at his side was unsightly.
“There are healing pills inside, a suit of offensive and defensive armor, and other lesser items. Make of them what you will. Starting tomorrow, I expect to see you at the mountain gate every day.”
Xu Biao took the pouch, and, upon sensing the treasures within, began to tremble with excitement.
“Thank you for your favor, Sir! I will bring the best, freshest ingredients with both hands every day—as long as I draw breath, I will be there on time!”
Zhou Xuanhong nodded, his expression suddenly turning stern. “I expect you to keep your word. If you take my storage pouch and run, there will be nowhere in the world for you to hide!”
“I wouldn’t dare!”
Zhou Xuanhong’s tone softened. “Alright, you can get up now. Go out and hunt—just don’t end up in a beast’s belly.”
The flying sword carried them down. After Xu Biao bid farewell, he presented Zhou Xuanhong with the whole Giant Fire Ox and hurried away. The others dared not question what had transpired.
Zhou Xuanhong then bought some other ingredients at the market—meat, semi-spiritual herbs, and even two spiritual herbs.
He paid in spirit stones. After all, itinerant cultivators were still cultivators; who would care for mere gold or silver?

As a true disciple, Zhou Xuanhong received a monthly allowance of one hundred and fifty spirit stones—these expenses were a mere trifle.
He didn’t buy a cooking pot, but did purchase bowls and chopsticks, since he planned to cook beast meat in the future. If he used an ordinary iron pot, it might fall apart before the meat even cooked.
He also bought some spices, and returned to the sect. He wasn’t worried about being ambushed—if he were, he wouldn’t have ventured out just for food.
He was well aware of the dangers of his current position: a moment’s carelessness could cost him his life at the hands of the Eldest Elder’s faction. Xuan Qizi had only taken him as a disciple to provoke the Eldest Elder’s side, so the protection he’d provide would be minimal, nearly negligible.
Yet, based on his recent observations, despite the two factions’ fierce rivalry, there had been no real conflict, which meant their powers were evenly matched. If they acted too hastily against him, it would expose the Eldest Elder’s hidden strength and, more importantly, reveal that Xiaona was in danger—proving the Eldest Elder’s side believed she couldn’t protect him.
Returning to the sect slightly on edge, Zhou Xuanhong relaxed, reassured that Xiaona was not in imminent peril.
He greeted the two guards at the entrance, telling them a loose cultivator would deliver something the next morning and not to chase him away.
Then Zhou Xuanhong headed to the Auxiliary Hall. The alchemist he’d traded with before immediately greeted him with a broad smile.
“You’re back, little brother! What spirit herbs did you bring this time?”
Zhou Xuanhong shook his head. “You’re mistaken, Senior Brother. I’m not here to trade—I’m looking for someone to forge an item.”
“Oh, I see. Come with me, then. I have a friend—his forging skills are among the best in the sect.”
“Thank you, Senior Brother Jia.”
Jia took Zhou Xuanhong to the forging division, where the air was hot and the relentless clang of hammer on metal filled the hall. The men’s grunts and labored breaths filled the air with a bracing masculinity.
“Yue Bu, I’ve brought you a client!”
Inside one of the stalls was a youth over two meters tall, swinging a meter-long hammer down onto a glowing red hunk of iron—a shield in the making, by the look of it.
“Jia Bao, wait a moment, let me finish this round.”
After a flurry of blows, the iron cooled and was returned to the furnace for reheating and shaping.
Yue Bu wiped his brow and asked, “Junior Brother, do you want an offensive or defensive spiritual weapon?”
Zhou Xuanhong shook his head. “Senior Brother Yue, can you forge a cooking pot?”
Yue Bu looked puzzled. “A cooking pot for making food?”
“Yes.”
Yue Bu laughed. “Are you a spiritual chef?”
Zhou Xuanhong shook his head. “A friend of mine is.”
“I can forge one, but you’ll need to provide the materials.”
Zhou Xuanhong produced a black iron block the size of an ox head. “This is gold-veined iron. Will it suffice?”
“Gold-veined iron! That’s excellent. More than enough. Besides a pot, I can even throw in a kitchen knife.”

“How much do you charge, Senior Brother Yue?”
Glancing at the true disciple token at Zhou Xuanhong’s waist, Yue Bu wiped his brow, then smiled, “Since Jia Bao introduced you, I’ll keep it cheap—fifteen spirit stones, payable upon completion.”
Jia Bao rolled his eyes, thinking his recommendation wasn’t worth much here.
Zhou Xuanhong, seeing through it but saying nothing, waved his hand and placed twenty gleaming spirit stones on the counter. “No need—I trust your skills. The extra five are a token of appreciation from your junior.”
Yue Bu understood—he was being asked to put extra effort into the forging.
“Rest assured, Junior Brother—your friend will be satisfied.”
“Thank you.”
After leaving the forging division, Zhou Xuanhong bought some fasting pills and was about to leave the Auxiliary Hall when he noticed an elderly man with white hair sitting cross-legged in midair above the hall. Strange, dizzying symbols floated down into the building.
“Don’t worry, everyone. I am the head of the Formation Hall. Yesterday, Vice-Head Xu of the Alchemy Hall had a furnace explosion, damaging the fire-gathering array beneath the cauldron. I’ll have it fixed soon. Qi Refining disciples should not watch; it could harm your souls.”
“So that’s the skill of a formation master. Even though I’m at Foundation Establishment, just looking at those runes makes me dizzy.”
A late-stage Qi Refining disciple stared at the runes, dazed, until a Foundation Establishment disciple slapped him. “Didn’t the master say not to look?”
Zhou Xuanhong, too, was watching the runes, but his mind remained clear, with only a faint dizziness.
After a few glances, he was about to leave when the white-haired elder above noticed his reaction.
“Hey, boy, catch!”
The old man tossed a jade slip, which floated into Zhou Xuanhong’s hand.
Puzzled, Zhou Xuanhong pressed it to his forehead and immediately understood: the head of the Formation Hall must have noticed his composure before the runes and thought he had a talent for formations, so he gifted him an “Introduction to Arrays.”
Zhou Xuanhong bowed slightly in thanks, then stowed the jade slip away—he had no time to be distracted by formations now. Cultivating the “Xingyuan Sutra” was his true priority.
Back at the Sect Master’s peak, his cheap master Xuan Qizi was nowhere to be found. That was to be expected—after all, he was just a pawn to restrain the Eldest Elder’s faction, dispensable at any time. There was no need to waste time teaching him.
Zhou Xuanhong took out a bag of seeds from his storage ring—seeds of the Vitality-Raising Grass he’d bought at the loose cultivator market. The peak was rich in spiritual energy, perfect for planting semi-spiritual herbs.
Vitality-Raising Grass was an upgraded version of chives, and a true semi-spiritual herb with potent tonic effects. It grew by absorbing blood and spiritual energy, and if cultivated well, might yield surprising results.
Not wanting his excess blood energy to be wasted on the weeds around his hut, Zhou Xuanhong planted the Vitality-Raising Grass around his house to make use of it.
He used a spell to till a patch of land, sowed the seeds, and went inside to cultivate the “Xingyuan Sutra.”
As time passed, more and more blood energy seeped from his pores, turning him into a blood-red figure. Some of the energy drifted out, falling on the vegetable patch and being absorbed by the seeds.