« Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter » Chapter 44: White Ant Queen Half a month later. Outside the mountain, the summer heat was sweltering, but inside the mountain, it remained cool. Accompanied by Bai Jing, Fu Shaoguang left the Demon Market . Soon, a gigantic earthen fortress came into view. It was the Ant Nest . Fu Shaoguang entered it, marveling at the sight. The Termite Demons truly deserved their reputation in the Demon Market for their construction skills. The Ant Nest stood tall like an earthen mound, magnificent on the outside, and even more intricate on the inside, with roads extending in all directions. Crisscrossing and dense with tunnels. Like a dense, sprawling network. Fu Shaoguang believed his memory was good and his sense of direction accurate; he could remember the path at first, but he quickly became disoriented. His head was spinning. He stuck closely behind Bai Jing. Perhaps only Termite Dem...
Achieving Immortality in a Cultivation World by Extraordinary Means: Chapter 7: Demon Market
Chapter 7: Demon Market
A faint, ethereal fragrance lingered at the very tip of his nose. The delicate fruit fragrance and the heady wine aroma had achieved a perfect fusion, creating a unique, intoxicating bouquet that would dazzle any creature. If Fu Shaoguang had not possessed such acute demon senses and a highly developed sense of smell, this treasure would have been easily overlooked in the vastness of the forest.
He flapped his powerful wings and flew deep into the hollow of the tree, where the scent became an overwhelming wave of sweetness. Seeing the small amount of clear, emerald liquid remaining at the bottom, he rejoiced. He recalled the rare origins of Monkey Wine: to survive the harsh winter, mountain monkeys collect various fruits in a single, secluded cave. If the season is abundant, they often forget their hidden stash. As spring arrives and temperatures rise, the forgotten hoard begins to ferment. This wine, born of chance and nature's patience, required the perfect alignment of time and place. It was a priceless essence that could only be found by the truly lucky.
Now, in the transition between late summer and early autumn, finding these dregs of Monkey Wine was a monumental stroke of fortune. Overjoyed, Fu Shaoguang plunged headfirst into the liquid. It was crisp and clear upon entry, a sophisticated balance of sweet and sour that sent a jolt of clarity through his mind. After drinking until his belly was swollen and full, a flash of inspiration struck him: snakes and spiders both enjoyed the scent of ferment, yet this tree remained undisturbed. This suggested that the tree itself was a place of safety. He circled the half-withered old tree, checking every crevice. Finding no rivals, he decided to take root there.
As the sun set and night descended, the moon rose like a silver hook amidst sparse, flickering stars. Fu Shaoguang perched upon a branch and began his rhythmic breathing, Gathering Qi. The faint moonlight entered his body, skillfully refined into power. This time, only a small portion nourished his physical form; the majority was converted into pure Magic Power. He lived a life of quiet discipline: drinking morning dew at dawn, consuming Monkey Wine at noon, and eating evening dew at dusk. He imitated the legendary tortoise, preserving his life through stillness and avoiding any unnecessary expenditure of energy.
That night, the summer heat finally broke, replaced by a cool, refreshing breeze. The sudden crunching sound of footsteps on dead branches startled Fu Shaoguang. Hidden among the leaves, he watched as two figures appeared. They were not human, but two Goat Demons—one large and one small, one a wizened elder and one a mere youth. The small goat walked on all fours, but the old goat stood upright in a Confucian robe, carrying a satchel like a traveling scholar.
Fu Shaoguang waited for them to pass, then, driven by curiosity, he flapped his wings and followed at a safe distance. He figured that since goats were herbivores, these demons were likely peaceful. After traveling for hours, the pair stopped at midnight before a massive ancient tree, dozens of zhang tall with gnarled, titanic roots. The old goat bowed three times and spoke in a raspy, human tongue: "This old one and my grandson have come admiring your reputation, wishing to settle in the Demon Market and seek the protection of the Goddess. We ask Senior to grant us safe passage."
He poured a flask of wine over the roots, and a swirling vortex appeared within the wood. The goats stepped through and vanished. Fu Shaoguang’s heart surged. This tree was the gateway to a Demon Market—a sanctuary protected by a powerful Goddess. In such a place, there would be rules against wanton slaughter. It was the perfect haven where he could gain knowledge and stop worrying about being eaten every second of the day. If he could standardize his Cultivation there, he might finally break the limits of his fleeting lifespan.
The next day, Fu Shaoguang prepared for his journey. He found two hollow, thin bamboo poles about two inches long—likely discarded by bamboo-eating creatures. Using his six legs, he carried them back and painstakingly filled them with the remaining Monkey Wine. It was a tedious task, gathering the last drops of the emerald liquid, but he knew he needed a tribute. As the moon rose, he struggled to take flight, carrying the heavy bamboo tubes toward the ancient gateway.
Arriving at the titanic tree, he stood the tubes upright and performed a clumsy bow in mid-air. He poured the contents of one tube onto the roots. The emerald liquid was instantly absorbed, and the tree stirred, though no vortex appeared. A branch extended, pointing greedily toward the second tube. Fu Shaoguang shook his head firmly. He knew the quality of his Monkey Wine far surpassed whatever the goat had offered; it was pure natural Herbal Essence. He needed the second tube for currency inside the market. Seeing his resolve, the ancient tree finally relented, opening a small, five-inch vortex. Grumbling internally at the tree's greed, Fu Shaoguang grabbed his remaining bamboo tube and dove into the swirling light.
After a disorienting moment of spinning, Fu Shaoguang found himself in a place of wonder. Large lanterns of green light hung in the air like suspended emeralds, echoed by the bright moon and stars above. Fireflies danced in shimmering clouds around a small, rustic town that looked like an ancient village. At the entrance stood a massive wooden Archway inscribed with four characters: 【Yushan Demon Market】.
Though Fu Shaoguang was illiterate and could not read the sign, he understood the gravity of the place. Below the Archway, a line of various demons waited to register with the Demon Soldiers. When it was his turn, the Old Weasel Demon behind the desk paused, his eyes narrowing in genuine shock. "This old one has lived for sixty years," the weasel whispered, "and this is the first time I have ever seen a Mayfly become a Spirit. The Great Thousand Worlds truly hold endless wonders."
The Weasel Demon instructed Fu Shaoguang to imbue a trace of his Qi into a bamboo token. Then, using the tip of his own tail as a brush, the clerk dipped it in ink and inscribed the two characters for Mayfly upon the wood. There was no need for a serial number or a name; he was the only one of his kind in the entire Demon Market.
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