A Kindness in the Market’s Shadow

Five centuries ago, Fangyuan found herself struggling to survive within the bustling confines of a market town.

Despite possessing a potent spiritual energy, she lacked Gu worms, for she could barely sustain herself, let alone afford the spirit stones required to nourish such mystical creatures.

Her sole means of livelihood mirrored that of a common herbalist: venturing into the spiritual mountains nearby to gather spirit herbs and plants, which she would then hawk within this immortal market.

Yet, her identity as a woman from the Miao region of the Southwest made her a pariah among the surrounding cultivators; even the rent for a stall in this market town was several times higher for her than for any other cultivator.

Truly, the world beyond her homeland was a harsh and unforgiving place!

It was little wonder, then, that many from the Miao region chose not to venture out in search of opportunities. The constant feeling of being an outsider, met with disdain and exclusion at every turn, was a burden few could bear.

Even if a rare few did not outwardly display such prejudice, the pervasive, unspoken contempt and the gnawing sensation of never truly belonging perpetually haunted Fangyuan’s heart.

This sentiment was akin to an invisible, yet undeniably present, thick crystal barrier separating her from all other cultivators.

Fangyuan gritted her teeth and bore these indignities, repeatedly reassuring herself that everyone who ventured out did so to further their own path, and that a life lived in the wider world inevitably entailed some measure of hardship and injustice.

Whether it was other cultivators brazenly seizing spirit herbs she had discovered first, or the market town’s administrators deliberately seeking to trouble her…

All these, Fangyuan would tell herself, were but minor trials, mere blows of wind and frost.

Then came a day, much like any other, when Fangyuan arrived at the market town with her gathered spirit herbs. She could only silently spread a humble mat in a secluded corner, carefully arranging her wares upon it.

For, naturally, the most advantageous spots within the market were always monopolized by cultivators of greater strength, wealth, and influence.

As a cultivator hailing from the Miao region, she knew that if she were to ever clash with another, even if she were to be struck down on the spot within the market, it was highly unlikely anyone would even bat an eye.

“Is that not Fangyuan? Begone! Do not obstruct my good fortune.”

No sooner had Fangyuan neatly arranged her humble stall than a cultivator from a nearby booth bellowed at her.

Such occurrences were commonplace, yet Fangyuan paid them no mind. Silently, she gathered her belongings and retreated further into a more obscure corner of the market.

The surrounding cultivators erupted in boisterous laughter, seemingly accustomed to Fangyuan’s resigned demeanor. Fangyuan, for her part, could only sigh in resignation; what choice did she have, being from the Miao region?

Engaging in conflict with these cultivators would undoubtedly lead to them ganging up on her.

Such incidents were far from rare. If, for instance, she happened upon a spirit plant alongside others, she would invariably be the first cultivator driven away, not for any transgression, but simply because of her distinct identity.

In her secluded corner, Fangyuan remained silent, patiently awaiting any potential buyers.

She observed the surrounding vendors loudly hawking their wares, an activity she herself was forbidden from. To do so would surely invite trouble from idle cultivators seeking amusement, or, indeed, from any cultivator who simply felt displeased and wished to lash out.

Fangyuan found herself utterly helpless in the face of such injustices, yet cultivators, too, required sustenance and resources for their cultivation. Thus, she could only silently endure.

“How much… for these spirit plants?”

A voice, clear and resonant, reached Fangyuan’s ears. She looked up to see a male cultivator, clad in pristine white robes, standing before her.

His simple attire belied its inherent luxury, and he carried himself with an air of dignified grandeur, his gaze steady and profound. He was, without a doubt, a strikingly handsome young master, accompanied by a curvaceous woman who appeared to be assiduously fawning over him.

“Fellow Daoist, esteemed Daoist, why bother purchasing spirit plants from this Miao individual? Come, buy from me instead. Who can say if she won’t pawn off inferior goods on you? After all, such people are hardly trustworthy.”

At that very moment, a cultivator selling spirit plants from a distant stall brazenly called out, clearly intending to divert Fangyuan’s potential customer.

Such a blatant act of sabotage should have been unthinkable, for most within the market town were acquainted, and such behavior invariably invited offense and the scorn of fellow cultivators.

Yet, the majority of cultivators merely watched on, their faces etched with expressions of amusement, none showing an iota of indignation on Fangyuan’s behalf.

“A Miao person?”

Fangyuan noted the woman beside the male cultivator softly murmur the words, her eyes subsequently flashing with unmistakable disdain.

Fangyuan had long grown accustomed to such prejudiced reactions, but the stakes felt higher today. If these spirit plants failed to find a buyer, her rent for the month would go unpaid, leaving her destitute and adrift—a truly dire prospect.

However, with the other cultivator’s disparaging remarks hanging in the air, who would dare give her another glance?

Indeed, Fangyuan watched as the woman beside the white-robed cultivator turned to depart, only to surreptitiously return moments later, apparently having noticed the male cultivator hadn’t followed.

“Hehe, Junior Brother, what use do you have for these spirit plants? If you desire them, your Senior Sister will procure only the finest for you from the Spirit Herb Hall!”

To Fangyuan’s utter astonishment, however, the male cultivator before her simply shook his head. Then, he knelt down and began meticulously selecting spirit plants from her humble display.

He chose with remarkable diligence, setting aside any that were not of the highest quality before finally speaking:

“I will take these.”

“Alright…”

Fangyuan was taken aback; she had never imagined that this male cultivator, even after learning of her identity, would still proceed to purchase her spirit plants.

“What in the world? He knows she’s a Miao person and still buys from her? What could he possibly be thinking?” The cultivator who had attempted to steal Fangyuan’s business muttered, annoyance coloring their tone.

“What did you just say? Hmm?!”

Perhaps having overheard the remark, for the other cultivator had made no effort to lower their voice, the woman beside the male cultivator immediately shot back.

Upon seeing the woman’s furious glare, the offending cultivator’s demeanor instantly softened. After all, everyone was merely trying to eke out a living; while they might possess a sharp tongue, they still knew when to gauge the prevailing winds.

“The total comes to five spirit stones.”

Fangyuan carefully placed the chosen spirit plants into a small wooden box, then looked up at the male cultivator.

“I am a disciple of the Yanqing Sect, named Qin Yan.”

At that precise moment, Fangyuan heard the male cultivator’s words. She was about to offer a reply when Qin Yan, having secured the spirit plants, turned as if to depart.

While Fangyuan could not fathom why this male cultivator had chosen to reveal his name to her…

…the name Yanqing Sect resonated powerfully in her mind, and Qin Yan—was he not the very prodigy whose fame had recently spread like wildfire throughout the Northern Lands?

“My name is Fangyuan, Gu Yue Fangyuan.”

Watching Qin Yan’s retreating back, she called out her name loudly.

Then, to her surprise, she saw the cultivator Qin Yan turn his head. His gaze was complex, tinged with an emotion she found utterly incomprehensible.

“Does this immortal maiden know me?”

Fangyuan replied, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

“No,” Qin Yan responded, “it is merely that your name bears a resemblance to that of an old acquaintance.”

Qin Yan’s voice drifted into her ears.

“Furthermore,” he added, “I prefer not to be addressed as ‘Immortal Maiden’.”

With those words, Qin Yan vanished from her sight.

The surrounding cultivators were left utterly dumbfounded, their gazes fixed on Fangyuan. They could only wonder what extraordinary fortune this woman possessed to have forged an acquaintance with such a prominent figure.

From that day forward, no one dared to openly bully Fangyuan, for the tale of her encounter with Qin Yan grew ever more fantastical with each retelling.

Eventually, some even whispered that Fangyuan was Qin Yan’s concubine, or something equally audacious.

****

As for why Qin Yan had chosen to aid this woman named Fangyuan…

It was simply that in her forlorn and dispirited state, he had glimpsed a fragment of his own past self. After all, who among them had not, at some point, experienced the profound upheaval of leaving home and venturing forth to toil in a distant land?

Both adrift on distant shores,

Strangers in a foreign land.