69: The stall owner does not open a sect, but only opens a shop.

Before dawn, as the first rays of morning light just pierced the horizon, the mountain path outside the Yuanli Market was already dusty, filled with the clatter of hooves.

Seven powerful auras, like seven drawn swords, pointed directly at this nascent land that had just burst with vitality.

Leading them was the Enforcement Elder of the Tianyan Sect. Dressed in a brocade robe, holding a glowing jade tablet, his face was stern, and his voice boomed like a bell: "Without sect or law, without a system! This kind of makeshift gathering, bringing together all sorts of people, privately stealing the Yuanli of heaven and earth, is truly a cancer of the cultivation world! Today, our seven major sects have come together; this market must fall under orthodox jurisdiction!"

His voice, imbued with spiritual energy, made the leaves on the trees lining the mountain path rustle, startling the early-rising stall owners in the market.

Instantly, everyone felt vulnerable, and the atmosphere solidified.

However, this oppressive aura, enough to make ordinary cultivators tremble, vanished as it reached the humble skewer stall in the center of the market, as if a mud ox had entered the sea.

Zhang Xuanyi was squatting on a small stool, one hand holding a brush, the other turning the meat skewers on the grill. The aroma of cumin and chili mixed with the heat of the charcoal, creating a leisurely atmosphere.

He didn't even lift his head, merely blew on the skewers in front of him, and said calmly, "This stall of mine has only one rule: 'You wish, I grant.' Want to manage it? Sure."

He paused, flipped a skewer of sizzling, oily tendons, then slowly raised three sauce-stained fingers: "First, pay the stall fee—three Yuanli crystals, plus one heartfelt truth. If it's a good one, I'll treat you to a skewer."

"Presumptuous!" an ill-tempered envoy behind the Tianyan Sect Elder roared in fury, about to erupt, but the Elder raised a hand to stop him.

The Elder was so angry he laughed, a cold glint in his eyes: "Insolent boy! You think with this clowning around, you can..."

His words were cut short by the crisp click of a shutter.

Not far away, Su Qingzhu had quietly activated her live-streaming artifact. A translucent recording orb floated before her, clearly capturing everything at the mountain pass.

She spoke into the recording orb, her voice clear and strong: "Greetings, viewers. Today, we are not recording who comes to manage whom, but rather, who the hearts of the people on this land will choose."

With the live stream on, this matter was no longer a private conflict between the seven major sects and a street stall, but a public confrontation under the gaze of billions in the entire cultivation world!

The faces of the seven major sects' envoys instantly turned extremely grim. They could bully others with their power, but they couldn't lose their "orthodox" demeanor in plain sight.

Just at this tense moment, Cui Wujiu, who had been standing silently by Zhang Xuanyi's stall, slowly stepped forward.

His face was stern, and in his hand, he held a book radiating a faint golden light. It was the Record of Yuanli, forged by him using his remaining enforcement seal, infused with the nascent Yuanli gathered by the market in recent days.

"From today onwards, the Yuanli Market establishes the 'Three No-Judgements' rule," Cui Wujiu's voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable authority, clearly reaching everyone's ears. "First, no judgment of origin or background; second, no judgment of past sins or karma; third, no judgment of Daoist lineage."

He opened the Record of Yuanli. The golden pages were blank, yet they seemed to contain infinite possibilities.

"All those burdened by sin, yearning for atonement; those whose paths are cut off, seeking new methods; those plagued by inner demons, questioning their true selves—all may come here to make a vow, with Yuanli as proof, and good deeds as repayment. I, Cui Wujiu, will bear witness for you!"

As soon as his words fell, a commotion arose in the crowd.

A figure stumbled out, his face sallow, his eyes cloudy, and a thick, unshakeable stench of blood emanating from him.

Someone recognized him and gasped in alarm: "It's 'Bloody Hand' Tu San! The rogue cultivator who once slaughtered three villages for a single artifact!"

Under the terrified gaze of the crowd, Tu San trembled as he walked to the stall, his knees buckling, falling heavily to the ground.

He pulled out a talisman from his embrace and slapped it onto himself. The talisman instantly ignited, transforming into crimson chains that bound him tightly.

He lifted his head, two lines of cloudy tears streaming down his face, his voice hoarse: "I... I am willing to be a slave and servant here, to toil for ten years, only to exchange for a photocopy yellow paper, so that I can... can go to the graves of the wrongfully dead and burn it for atonement..."

The crowd fell into a deathly silence.

A heinous demon, at this moment, was seeking a chance for redemption in the most resolute way.

This was more impactful than any sermon.

After a brief silence, someone, no one knew who, was the first to applaud.

Immediately after, applause spread like wildfire, instantly echoing throughout the entire valley, like thunder, like a tide, shaking the minds of the seven major sects' envoys.

This applause was for Tu San's courage, and even more so, for the rules established by the market!

Zhang Xuanyi, at this moment, put away all his jesting, his expression becoming unprecedentedly solemn.

From under the grill stand, he carefully took out a scroll of yellow paper with charred edges.

That yellow paper exuded an ancient and sinister aura. It was a remnant page of the "Sin Talisman" that the Old Ancestor of Quanxing had painstakingly written three years ago, before his death, recording his life's sins and regrets.

Under everyone's gaze, Zhang Xuanyi gently pressed this remnant page of the "Sin Talisman" onto the hot outer wall of the grill.

He reached out and stroked the furnace wall, saying softly, "This furnace fire has burned talismans, roasted skewers, and even helped me refine human hearts. Today, it doesn't refine elixirs, it only refines the word 'trust'."

Before his words finished, the remnant page of the "Sin Talisman" spontaneously combusted without fire. What rose was no longer black smoke, but a wisp of pure, glazed green smoke.

The green smoke gracefully coiled in mid-air, eventually condensing without dispersing, forming eight powerful characters that seemed to penetrate the paper:

"When wishes arise, they become potent; when trust breaks, they perish."

These eight characters seemed to be the declaration of this land, the heartfelt voice of all who sought redemption and new life.

The seven major sects' envoys looked at each other, their faces alternating between green and white.

They saw Tu San's atonement, heard the thunderous applause, and felt the immense, grassroots power contained within those eight characters, a power they had never witnessed before.

Continue to suppress them?

That would be to stand against the hearts of the people!

After a long while, the last envoy, from a relatively weaker sect, sighed deeply. He silently took off the jade pendant representing his sect identity from his waist, walked forward, and gently dropped it into the broken bowl in front of Zhang Xuanyi's stall, which served as an incense burner.

"My sect... is willing to join this market, set up our own stall, and abide by the rules here."

One, and then there was a second.

Once this breach was opened, the seven major sects' so-called "joint jurisdiction" became a joke.

At noon, the Yuanli Market's hundred stalls were all open, smoke rising, voices bustling, ten times livelier than usual.

Zhang Xuanyi, however, quietly retreated to the tent in the back. He spread his palm, and suspended in its center was a crystal-clear drop of liquid, seemingly containing a world within it.

This was the last trace of energy remaining after his system crashed when he transmigrated, which he named "Pseudo-Three Caverns True Qi Liquid."

He gently dripped this last drop of liquid into the center of the stall cloth beneath him, which was the "root 脈" of the entire stall.

In an instant, the entire seemingly ordinary stall cloth emitted a barely perceptible halo.

On the cloth, the four characters "Willing to be free," formed by mung bean sprouts, slowly unfurled their leaves, actually producing a faint but extremely pure Yuanli, which slowly flowed back into Zhang Xuanyi's body through the soles of his feet.

The stall, after absorbing a massive amount of Yuanli, began to nourish its user!

Zhang Xuanyi comfortably narrowed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips: "Now this is business."

Late at night, when all was quiet, the mountainside lights twinkled like stars.

Su Qingzhu sat in her tent, organizing the images she had recorded today.

However, when she used her magic to retrace the internal structure of the Yuanli crystals, her delicate brows furrowed tightly.

She discovered a disturbing anomaly: almost all the traded Yuanli crystals were entangled with a faint wisp of black energy, like old grievances and obsessions settled in the deepest parts, being quietly awakened by this vast tide of Yuanli.

Her heart tightened. Just as she was about to get up and question Zhang Xuanyi, the tent flap was lifted, and a rich aroma wafted in.

Zhang Xuanyi brought a plate of freshly grilled chive boxes and offered them to her: "Hungry? Try some. Don't investigate anymore, I know."

Su Qingzhu was startled and looked up: "You know? That black energy is..."

"Yuanli can atone for sins, and naturally, it can also foster resentment." Zhang Xuanyi's gaze passed through the tent, looking towards the market below, where the lights were dim, his eyes as deep as the night sky. "Where there is light, shadows only grow deeper. But—"

He changed the subject, looking at Su Qingzhu, a hint of a smile in his eyes: "If one dares not face one's own shadow, what is there to say about freedom?"

The camera slowly zoomed out, past the bustling market, past the two pensive figures, and deep underground.

The Old Earth Vein Turtle, which had slept for an unknown number of years, its body as vast as a mountain range, its eyelids twitched ever so slightly in its dream.

An almost inaudible whisper echoed in the depths of the earth's veins.

"The calamity... has arrived."