Chapter 7: The Star-Plucking Tower
Spring’s warmth enveloped Shengyang City in southern Zhongzhou, where crowds flowed like water, bustling shoulder to shoulder.
As a neutral zone, governed by Tai Xu Sect and other Xuanshu organizations, strict rules curbed cultivators’ antics—no roof-hopping or wall-treading allowed. Violators faced fines up to a top-grade spirit stone.
Such a penalty was steep—a single stone could buy rare treasures. With Tai Xu Sect and the Dark Hall’s formidable backing, ordinary cultivators dared not provoke, and big shots valued their reputation too much to risk jade-slip headlines.
Over time, though Zhongzhou had no nations, these rules became custom, unchallenged.
By noon, as the sun climbed, the streets thinned. Teahouses brimmed with patrons, enthralled by storytellers weaving tales of ancient and modern heroes, unable to tear themselves away. Waiters, shouting orders, darted with trays balanced by spiritual energy, spinning like tops.
In Xuanshu, everyone practiced martial arts, even if only reaching First-Tier to draw qi. When Zong Ji couldn’t manifest his origin star, he was thought to be the continent’s only cultivation dud in millennia, drawing curious elders and disciples. Herb-Gathering Peak even itched to test new pills on him, sighing when they learned he merely couldn’t show his rank.
Zong Ji: …
Shengyang City hosted Xuanshu’s largest trading market and top-tier entertainment. Famous demon courtesans graced the city, but its crown jewel was the Star-Plucking Tower, famed as the continent’s premier building.
Run by the Dark Hall, a group labeled demonic for its ruthless tactics, the tower thrived in commerce. Whatever they built turned to gold.
Take the Star-Plucking Tower. At its inception, it dominated jade-slip ads, cycling endlessly. Somehow, the Dark Hall swayed the reclusive, near-mythical descendants of the Heavenly Mechanism Sect—only three or four in number—to feature it prominently.
The tower’s allure was undeniable. Its resident zither master was the renowned Young Master Bei Qing, and decades-aged Autumn Dew White, reserved for royalty, flowed freely. Employing stunning demon and devil beauties and hunks, it elevated Shengyang’s aesthetic, drawing wealthy patrons effortlessly.
A breeze stirred, and willows by the river seemed ready to sprout white catkins.
The seven-story tower, using spatial distortion for a cloud-piercing effect, seemed to reach the stars. Its carved railings and ornate eaves exuded opulence, with faint zither notes and fine incense wafting out, setting it apart from common teahouses. Inside, decor was tasteful—luxurious yet understated.
The top tower shunned brothels or gambling, selling only wine and information. Besides the Heavenly Mechanism Sect, it held the continent’s most secrets—if you could imagine it, they knew it.
In Carefree’s original draft, the Dark Hall was a full-fledged demonic sect, with the Star-Plucking Tower as a covert meeting spot for hired killers. In a cultivation novel, assassin groups were cool—striking like wind, vanishing without trace, taking lives from afar.
But Zong Ji, a righteous youth, couldn’t stomach starting conflicts in his own world. He transformed the Dark Hall into a peacekeeping force, meddling everywhere as the continent’s police, chanting “continental harmony.” It boldly recruited from all three races, rushing to mediate disputes—first with words, then with force if needed.
Usually force.
Peace begins with the Dark Hall. Process aside, the result is perfect. XD
“No need for formalities.”
Zong Ji landed on the seventh floor, sweeping his gold-lined sleeve. A light spiritual energy, deceptively weighty, lifted the kneeling guards without question.
The seventh floor, never open to outsiders, was the Dark Hall’s nerve center. Many speculated its base lay in the snowy mountains, but few imagined its secrets were brazenly stored in the Star-Plucking Tower.
Hidden in plain sight.
“Welcome, Hall Master, on your emergence.”
As the Dark Hall’s leader, Zong Ji donned a silver ghost mask and swapped his recognizable black-gold robe for a mysterious raven-feather cloak. Masking his spiritual fluctuations and exuding a menacing aura, even Ming Xu Zi wouldn’t recognize his disciple as this demonic leader.
Only the Dark Hall’s top ranks, present on the seventh floor, knew his true identity.
“Any major events on the continent? Bring all Earth-grade or higher dossiers for my review. And the information I asked you to gather?”
“Hall Master, we have leads. I’ll retrieve the dossiers.”
A black-clad subordinate bowed, vanishing with shadowless steps, returning with a stack of dossiers piled like a small mountain.
Xuanshu was vast; even filtering for major events, five years amassed a hefty pile.
It surprised Zong Ji, but what could he do? He sat to read.
With a charmed protagonist’s life, beating only Mu Ye was dull. So, he became the continent’s borderless cop, deserving a Xuanshu Peace Prize.
Carefree was his creation. No author could dislike their world. Wishing for peace and prosperity was