Staying Alive Cautiously in the Celestial Realm and Becoming the Strongest

A hidden path in the dense forest appeared before Wang Chen.

He had discovered this path not long ago while hunting, with fresh traces of pedestrians and hunters still visible on it.

Wang Chen followed the path.

After walking for several miles, the path turned into a real mountain road—covered with thick stone slabs.

The surfaces of the stone slabs were densely packed with the vicissitudes of the years, bearing deep marks from countless footsteps.

Continuing for another mile, the path split into two forks ahead.

Left or right?

Wang Chen hesitated for a moment, not making an immediate decision but instead sitting down on a stone under a nearby tree.

Clearly meant for travelers to rest their feet, the stone was worn smooth.

Wang Chen took off the water skin hanging at his waist and took a sip of the cool spring water.

He planned to wait here to see if any travelers would come by so he could ask for directions rather than wandering around aimlessly like a headless fly.

As it turned out, Wang Chen's decision was the right one.

He had waited for almost an hour when he heard noises coming from afar.

Soon, a caravan of mules and horses arrived at the crossroads.

The caravan was small, with four or five mules and about ten people, each of the mules laden with heavy goods, and the people in the caravan, each armed with a knife and a bow, were clearly Martial Artists.

The leader was an Old Master with graying temples; he glanced at Wang Chen with dull eyes, hesitating but not stopping.

Until he came up to Wang Chen.

Wang Chen stood up and bowed, asking, "Old sir, I've gotten lost in the mountains. Which road should I take to the nearest county town?"

"The nearest county town?"

The Old Master's gaze turned peculiar.

There Wang Chen was, dressed as a Hunter, claiming to be lost in the mountains, sitting at a crossroad unsure of which road to take.

Did that make any sense?

Not in the slightest!

But having lived as long as he had, the Old Master had seen many bizarre things and people. He had survived up to this point by sticking to his own set of principles for dealing with situations.

However strange his thoughts, his face was still all smiles as he responded, "The nearest county town from here is Yan City, and our caravan is headed there. If you don't mind, you can travel with us."

His gaze was sharp, seeing Wang Chen neither as a villain nor a spy for bandits, thus he was willing to make a good connection with Wang Chen.

Wang Chen expressed his gratitude, "Then I thank you very much."

"You're welcome."

The Old Master turned around with a smile, calling out, "Everyone, let's rest here for a while. We'll set off after noon."

Thus, the caravan rested by the roadside, eating and drinking, and taking care of the mules.

The Old Master put away his whip and sat down on a stone next to Wang Chen, curiously asking, "Young man, where are you from?"

Wang Chen did not respond directly, instead taking off the tiger skin tied to his back, "Old sir, do you buy skins?"

"Let me see."

The Old Master gave Wang Chen a deep look, then took the tiger skin.

"We buy mountain goods and skins."

He unfolded the tiger skin, carefully inspecting it inside and out, and said, "This tiger skin is not bad, very intact, but the tanning is a bit poor."

Wang Chen rubbed his nose, "You give me a price, if it's right, I'll sell it."

Indeed, his skill in tanning was quite ordinary, mainly because he had not really focused on developing it.

"If I were to buy it…"

Old Master raised a finger, "I can only give you a hundred taels of silver at most, but if you take it to Yan City and find the right buyer, it's possible to sell it for two to three hundred taels!"

He emphasized, "It's not that I'm cheating anyone, this is the rule of our trade. I can forgo making a profit, but I cannot break the rules."

"So if you want to sell it at a high price, you should still take it to Yan City!"

As he spoke, he was about to return the tiger skin to Wang Chen.

Wang Chen did not take it, gesturing with his hand and saying, "Then one hundred taels it is."

To him, or rather within Ling Zhiyuan's memory, the concept of money was not very clear, and Wang Chen was not sure about the purchasing power of these one hundred taels of silver.

But the other party was very open and made things clear, so Wang Chen did not want to bother.

Old Master was stunned.

Two to three hundred taels of silver was not a small amount.

It should be known that a normal family of five could live for a year on just ten to twenty taels.

Three hundred taels of silver could even buy a nice house in Yan City!

Yet Wang Chen did not care about the difference in price and was willing to sell it to him at such a low price.

But that was not the main point.

The main point was that Wang Chen's indifference was not feigned; he gave Old Master the impression of someone from a generations-old, sumptuous clan, his demeanor and conduct exuding the bearing of a superior.

This made the worldly Old Master somewhat uneasy, so he took the tiger skin, gritted his teeth, and took out two silver notes from his bosom and passed them to Wang Chen, "Then thank you very much."

Wang Chen looked at the silver notes and they were all in denominations of one hundred.

He was all too familiar with silver notes, and upon touching them, he knew they were not counterfeit, and the banks that issued them were also famously reputable.

Ling Zhiyuan had spent a lot.

Wang Chen handed one note back to him, "Let's stick to one hundred."

But Old Master, wearing a forced smile, stubbornly refused to accept it—preferring to earn less rather than offend someone whose background was unclear.

Wang Chen did not want to argue with the old Martial World figure and simply pocketed the silver notes, then tossed him a pouch.

Inside were four severed tiger paws.

"Let's settle with this!"

Old Master did not even see where Wang Chen had gotten the pouch from, he was inwardly puzzled but dared not prattle on.

He took out some wine from the pack on the mules and invited Wang Chen to drink with him.

However, Wang Chen only took one sip and did not continue—it was sour.

This further convinced Old Master of his thoughts, making him even more polite toward him.

After midday, everyone had rested enough, and the trading caravan hit the road again.

This caravan had come from the road on the left and was headed towards the right. Old Master led the way and continued chatting with Wang Chen, with no objections from the others.

Old Master had extremely rich experiences and was shrewd. He fluently narrated various interesting anecdotes from the Martial World, making the journey engaging for Wang Chen, who did not feel the slightest bit bored.

Thus they followed the trading caravan for about twenty miles, approaching evening.

Old Master said, "Young brother, there is an inn about three miles ahead, we'll stay there for the night."

Wang Chen nodded, not saying a word.

Old Master called the caravan hands to speed up to reach the inn, decorated with hanging lanterns, before it got completely dark.

The inn seemed quite sizeable from the look of it, with many mules and horses already stationed outside, clearly a favored spot for traders to rest.

Aided by the light emanating from lanterns hanging under the eaves, Wang Chen clearly saw the inn's signboard.

Tongfu Inn!

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The second release.