Xie Zhaolin held the fully reassembled accessory in her palm, examining it carefully.
The piece radiated a deep, dark purple, ancient and unadorned in shape—not quite round, not quite square. Its edges flowed smoothly, and the old, previously fragmented patterns now connected seamlessly, forming a design that was impossible to fully decipher, exuding a mysterious, boundless aura.
She tried infusing it with spiritual power and baleful qi again, but the accessory remained completely inert.
"You You, do you recognize this?" she asked, glancing at the You Ming Bracelet on her wrist and the Soul-Confusing Spirit Tuber in her hair.
You You's soul body drifted forward, circling the accessory. Her small face was full of confusion. "Master… You You doesn't know this… The patterns are strange, I've never seen them before."
Xie Zhaolin turned her gaze to Mo Yan, who stood silently nearby, brow furrowed as he stared at the accessory, a trace of uncertain thought in his eyes.
"Mo Yan," she said, "does this look familiar to you?"
Mo Yan snapped out of his reverie and bowed quickly. "Master, I… I do feel like I've seen this somewhere, or maybe… seen similar patterns or sensed a similar aura… but I can't recall exactly." He scratched his head in frustration. "It's just a faint sense of familiarity… like a glimpse long ago in some corner of the Demon Abyss… I've failed, Master!"
A flicker of thought passed through Xie Zhaolin's eyes. Mo Yan was a demon, with origins far from ordinary, yet he recognized this object… That only confirmed the accessory's deep connection with the demon clans.
"No matter," she said calmly, waving a hand. "No need to force it. Think it over slowly, and tell me when it comes to you."
With that, she stowed the accessory away. Now that it was complete, she couldn't leave it in Mo Yan's care.
"Let's go," she said, looking southeast. "We're heading to Heiyan City's black market."
Heiyan City was the closest major cultivation hub, bustling with all kinds of cultivators. Its proximity to several dangerous areas made it a melting pot of people, and trade flourished. Its underground black market was famous for rare items of mysterious origin with extraordinary effects.
The auxiliary materials she needed to refine the Shiyue Ribbon were scarce near Qingxi Sect, but the black market might hold some clues.
More importantly, she had another purpose—to find a highly skilled artificer.
According to her knowledge, a masterful but eccentric artificer was hidden in Heiyan City. Not born from a major artificer sect, he worked alone. His techniques reportedly fused aspects of both human and demon craftsmanship, and he specialized in forging and repairing magical weapons for battle cultivators who spent years fighting near demon territories.
His weapons emphasized practicality, stealth, and explosive power, unlike typical artificers who chased flashy designs and raw power. His works had a reputation among battle cultivators, but because he operated discreetly and only served rigorously vetted clients, he remained largely unknown outside.
If she hadn't been a battle cultivator in her past life with some standing, she probably wouldn't even know of him.
Now in mid-Golden Core, refining her destined weapon was urgent.
…
A few days later, they finally arrived.
Two figures concealed their auras as they moved through the crowd into Heiyan City.
Xie Zhaolin didn't linger on the busy main street. Instead, she and Mo Yan slipped down a few secluded alleys until they stopped in front of a seemingly abandoned residence.
Following a specific rhythm, she tapped lightly on the weathered wooden door.
After a moment, the door creaked open just a crack. A pair of wary eyes scrutinized them, and a hoarse voice called out, "What's the matter?"
"Seeking the hidden, searching for the true art of forging," Xie Zhaolin replied, giving a code phrase.
The person behind the door paused, then stepped aside. "Come in."
Inside, a narrow stone staircase descended into the underground. The air smelled damp, cold, and mingled with the odd scent of various materials.
This was the real Heiyan City black market.
Inside, it was more spacious than it appeared, dimly lit by scattered long-burning lamps. Stalls lined both sides, their owners mostly masked, silent, rarely calling out. Customers hurried past, cautious and measured, keeping wary distance from each other.
Xie Zhaolin scanned the area with her divine sense. Most cultivators here were Foundation Establishment, with a few faint Golden Core presences.
She didn't rush to find the master artificer. He was discreet and not easily found. Her immediate priority was gathering the auxiliary materials for refining the Shiyue Ribbon.
With focus, she and Mo Yan methodically searched the black market.
The market was huge, stalls packed, goods of all sorts, genuine and fake side by side. Thanks to her past-life experience and superior divine sense, she carefully vetted every potential material.
Luck was on her side—she collected most of what she needed without trouble, but the artificer's trail remained cold.
She kept an eye on several stalls rumored to have information, probing subtly. Responses ranged from cluelessness to tight-lipped secrecy.
It seemed this artificer was even more discreet than she imagined.
Half a month passed in Heiyan City.
One day, she searched for a rare auxiliary material called Illusory Color Glaze Sand. This substance could give weapons shifting colors and perceptual deception—perfect for enhancing the Shiyue Ribbon's stealth.
Turning a relatively quiet corner, her eyes inadvertently caught a tiny, inconspicuous stall. She froze.
The stall was small, just an old gray beast hide on the ground with three or four magical weapons laid casually on it. The weapons looked ancient, even a bit worn, with no flashy glow—ordinary at first glance.
But Xie Zhaolin's discerning eyes immediately recognized the mastery in their forging. The designs were stripped to essentials, restrained yet sharp, exuding the aura of countless trials in practical use.
These were no ordinary artificer's works.
What drew her attention even more was the stall owner.
Shrouded in a hooded black cloak, gloves on his hands, a face covering, even his eyes hidden, he sat quietly in shadow. His presence almost merged with the surroundings—easily overlooked unless one looked closely.
This understated, almost hidden style, combined with weapons crafted for real battle over flashy power… perfectly matched the characteristics of the artificer she sought.