Rubbing Shoulders with Heavenly Tribulation, Fleecing the Sheep, part 3

The sun sank below the horizon, the last streak of red twilight vanishing.

A hazy moon rose in the night sky, soon obscured by dense clouds driven by the wind, snuffing out the remaining moonlight. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

The mountain breeze howled, stealing the warmth from skin. Even cultivators, shielded by spiritual energy, felt an inexplicable chill.

Such a scene might have felt lonely or desolate, but not now.

The aroma of sizzling meat and oil filled the peak. Even the coldest jade-faced immortals, their white sleeves stained with sausage scent, couldn’t resist.

The fragrance burrowed into noses, teasing tongues with memories of exquisite flavor, triggering involuntary salivation.

Cultivators shouldn’t care for such mortal cravings.

But consider: cultivation was grueling, leaving them dog-tired, camping out to catch a tribulation, surviving in the wild. Without food or drink, the heavens might as well collapse!

Cultivators were different—faster even at queuing. In a blink, Su Qing’s stall was mobbed by disciples from every sect, chaos erupting as voices overlapped.

“Little Junior Sister, ten sausages, ten bowls of offal!”

“I want a hundred sausages! Discount?”

“I’ll take all the offal—name your price. No need to serve; gimme the bucket.”

“Hey, front guy, take it all, and I eat what? First-come, first-served, huh?”

“What do you eat? None of your business! Tell you what—100 spirit stones for one bowl, deal?”

“Heh, you’re done. Your cultivation’s hit its limit.”

“You filthy talisman cultivator, stop sneaking attacks! Remove this binding talisman!”

“You think I’ll remove it just because you say? Talk so pretty, I’ll slap a silence talisman on your dog mouth too! And you, beast cultivator—your whole family’s spirit beasts have hit their limit!”

…

Su Qing’s warm smile froze: *They’re fighting over this?*

Sensing trouble, she didn’t want her stall caught in the crossfire. Scanning the crowd, she shouted, “Limited quantities! Two sausages, one bowl of offal per person—everyone gets a share!”

“What kinda rule is that? I was first—why can’t I buy more? I’ll pay full price!” a front-row disciple protested.

The back row grumbled, craning their necks. “So what if you’re first? We’re all Sword Sect—where’s the camaraderie?”

As another argument brewed, Body Sect stepped in. Zhuxu stood tall. “What’s the noise? Our Junior Sister sells how she wants!”

Second-years joined, rolling up sleeves, hands on hips, faces fierce like eighteen guardian arhats.

“Exactly. Be glad there’s food. Shut up and enjoy.”

“Keep arguing, and I’ll fight you!”

Their presence tamed the crowd. No one wanted to tangle with Body Sect over sausages and offal—not worth it compared to rare treasures.

Fists spoke loudest.

Sales went smoothly after that.

Su Qing saved the last twenty sausages and half a bucket of offal for the Body Sect seniors, refusing high offers.

The second-years were embarrassed. “We didn’t mean it like that. Keep selling—money’s hard-earned.”

“Sausages get burnt if grilled too long—can’t sell those, bad for my brand,” Su Qing explained. “The offal’s mostly gone, just radish and sprouts left. Can’t sell that, but tossing it’s wasteful. If you don’t mind, let’s share.”

No one minded good food.

They divvied up the sausages and offal joyfully. Hot meat juices burst in mouths, flavors overwhelming. A sip of thick broth from the bowl’s edge followed.

*Slurp*—

Warm soup slid into stomachs, satisfying tongue, gut, and even spirit, despite the low spiritual energy.

Friendly Senior Brother Zhang Mingliang patted his chest, savoring. “Right now, I’d take a thunderbolt and die happy!”

They shoved him. “Dream on!”

“Greedy much?”

“I’ll take the first bolt!”

…

Elder Danxia wouldn’t break through today—no tribulation or pill fragrance. But Su Qing earned plenty. After sword practice at the Sword Tomb, under the rising sun, she counted her haul twice.

She’d made 1,800 spirit seeds. Minus costs, 1,000 left—ten spirit stones.

Ten stones in a day.

Heavens, her head spun.

Students were cash cows.

Work was endless, but business was the future.

The next day, stalls multiplied—one sold scallion noodles, another sausages and flatbreads, another fish ball stew, all fragrant.

Zhang Mingliang grinned. “We’ll eat their stock, run, and not pay.”

Xu Jiuxing nodded. “Good plan. I’ll say I’m Zhang Mingliang.”

Su Qing knew they were teasing.

Competition was expected; she couldn’t control others. Luckily, she hadn’t overstocked, so no losses.

Day two, sales dropped to 800 spirit seeds, netting 400—four spirit stones.

Still profit.

Day three, 600 seeds, netting 300—three stones.

Profit.

Day four, she switched tactics. For 50 spirit seeds, she bought leftover tea leaves from the tea shop, added rock sugar, and brewed buckets of sweet tea. One cup, one seed.

She was selling mineral water now. After noodles, sausages, or fish balls, a sweet, icy tea washed down the grease, keeping cultivators dignified.

Low-cost, timeless, and profitable.

Tea had spiritual energy, and at one seed per cup, it was irresistible. Sugar ensured they’d want more.

Sales hit 250 seeds, netting two stones.

Sweet tea stabilized profits. Days five to fourteen averaged 200 seeds daily. On day fifteen, Su Qing quit. She was exhausted—body training, sword practice, work, and vending left her sleepless, visibly gaunt.

More crucially, atop Dan Peak’s First Pill Tower, a red-yellow-purple haze of pill clouds emerged.

A celestial phenomenon.

The strange pill fragrance rippled from the tower, spreading hundreds of meters.

One whiff left Su Qing entranced, mind lost.

So fragrant—how could anything smell this divine? Not just her—even second-year Foundation Establishment cultivators looked mesmerized.

“Pill’s done?” Zhuxu wondered.

Before she finished, spiritual energy swirled into a massive vortex, rushing through them toward the tower. The gale it stirred nearly toppled those on high ground. Su Qing felt it slice through her, chaotic spiritual energy tearing inside, twisting her.

“Ugh—” Blood trickled from her mouth.

Her insides felt ruptured.

“Fierce gale—not a wasted trip.” @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Body Sect went wild, rushing to face the gale, craving its embrace. Zhuxu shoved Su Qing behind the group.

By the time the gale reached her, filtered through the second-years, it was a gentle ripple, manageable. Su Qing, enduring pain, ran *Clear Mind Technique* frantically, refining and storing spiritual energy.

Even she knew this was a rare chance.

Now she understood why cultivators trained alone, yet second-years gathered for body refinement. Like geese in a V-formation, they leveraged collective strength for greater results.

In this “goose formation,” Zhuxu led, followed by Xu Jiuxing and Senior Sister Cui Huai, others fanning out in a V-shape. Positions shifted based on endurance.

Su Qing anchored the tail, spitting blood while circulating spiritual energy. By the fortieth cycle, a dense drop of spiritual dew formed, dripping into her dantian. Her shriveled spiritual root, nourished, bloomed with vitality.

She broke through to Qi Refining Layer 2.

Heavens, what a haul.

Spitting out tainted blood, she closed her eyes, ignoring screaming nerves, and kept running *Clear Mind Technique*.

She tamed the wild gale, widening her clogged spiritual veins cycle after cycle.

After the first gale, a second hit. By the third, a massive white sword shadow loomed over the tower.

Xu Jiuxing murmured, “Tai’a Sword—the Sect Master’s guarding.”

Zhuxu’s eyes gleamed. “It’s certain now.”

Dan Sect disciples, ecstatic, gazed at the radiant pill clouds, as if they marked the world’s pinnacle.

“Elder Danxia will break through.”

“Our Dan Sect—our Sword Sect—gains another Spirit Transformation!”

Some clutched pill furnaces, tears falling. The mood soared. Zhang Mingliang scratched his head. “Sprinkle now?”

Sprinkle what? Su Qing didn’t get it.

“No rush.” Zhuxu eyed the darkening, thunder-charged sky, grinning confidently. “We’re here—let’s catch the lightning first.”

Su Qing saw python-thick white lightning flash. Instinctively afraid, she watched hundreds, waiting a month, charge forward with eager battle lust.

They’d waited long enough. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

The long-awaited heavenly tribulation had arrived—

The real show was about to begin.