Three days later.

  Yang put on the best outfit Lucien owned as he cleaned himself up in the small bathroom and combed his hair. He looked in the small mirror as he worked the comb through blonde strands and noted for the first time that Lucien was rather handsome.

  With sculpted classical features and piercing blue eyes, Yang, despite being a man, could appreciate it now that he was mentally in a better place. Lucien was the most handsome Yang had ever been. He'd been rather plain-looking in his first life, and the same could be said for his second life as Chen Yang.

  Though he had a rather large build compared to boys his own age in the cultivation world, and he could pass for older. Despite Li San being a year older than him, Yang looked older and he could pass for almost the same age as the eldest Li brother. Yang wasn't sure if it was because of the hardships of forest life or because of the beast cores he'd consumed.

  Looking into the handsome visage of Lucien, Yang missed his life as Chen Yang. He truly found this body lacking in ways that had nothing to do with appearance.

  He'd realized now that he was in this world just how much he'd taken the improvements made by the beast cores for granted. He'd forgotten the feeling of tiredness, what feeling cold felt like except during the mountain climb.

  It was only after being yanked to this world by some magical glowing bead that he felt the lack of what normal people must experience daily. Yang couldn't believe that in his excitement for learning more about cultivation, he'd forgotten all about the beast cores.

  But now he wondered, what if he hunted stronger beasts? Would consuming those cores increase his strength further? If yes, then it was a good way to mitigate the disadvantages of the Heaven-Refining Soul Sutra. So many what-ifs. He'd barely stepped into the cultivation world and had hardly gained any time to delve deeper before he was yeeted into this smog-filled industrial hell.

  Yang thought back to the last couple of days as he'd created the heat regulation cards.

  The heat regulation inscription had been more complex than the simple light card or the fireball card, which should really be called a spark card given its actual output. More strokes and more precise angles. The energy flow had to be carefully controlled to create the right effect. Too much and the card would produce dangerous levels of heat. Too little and it would be ineffective.

  It had taken a whole day to get the first card done. Each new card helped him improve, taking less and less time until the last sixth card took him under an hour to create. Yang was rather satisfied with his progress, though life would have been much easier if he had the talent of an isekai protagonist along with their typical absurd luck. But he had no complaints.

  He'd come a long way from when he'd started. Yang's hand was steady now. His knowledge deeper than it had been before. He understood why each stroke was placed where it was. Why the pattern looped back on itself at certain points. Why the connections had to be made in a specific sequence.

  And most importantly, after Yang had checked his Sea of Consciousness, the energy bar had increased.

  [1.32% Energy]

  A noticeable jump. Six cards created, and the status bar had risen significantly from its previous state.

  Yang came back to the present and went to his desk, taking the eleven cards and wrapping the six heat regulation cards in cloth along with the other five cards he'd created previously to get registered at the Cardwright Association. He placed the cloth-wrapped bundle of cards in his coat pocket after putting the coat on and looked around to make sure everything was in order and he wasn't forgetting something.

  Satisfied, he picked up the key to his door, left the flat, and locked the door behind him as he made his way toward where the market was located.

  Yang walked leisurely through the streets. It could have been said he was enjoying the scenery if there was scenery to be enjoyed. Instead, he just walked while staring blankly at soot-dyed roads, buildings, people, and everything covered in that same gray industrial grime.

  He finally reached the market after about forty minutes of walking. After asking around where he could sell cards, he was directed to an area where most businesses dealt in magical goods and card-related commerce.

  He thanked the vendor who'd given him directions, and the man just waved him off, too busy calling customers to his wares to care about prolonged conversation.

  The area the vendor had guided him to was almost on the opposite side of where Yang had entered, and he had to walk almost all the way through the market to reach it. Yang did enjoy the walk as he was able to see all kinds of wares and people selling their goods.

  Markech was a port city, and there was a lot of fish and exotic items freshly loaded off ships and brought to the market by merchants. Spices from distant lands. Strange fruits and vegetables he didn't recognize. The variety was fascinating.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  But he soon reached the area dealing in cards, and there was a marked difference in the environment of this section compared to the rest of the market.

  This place was rather quiet, with better-constructed shops and stalls. It lacked the yelling of vendors and loud voices of buyers bargaining aggressively. It seemed peaceful, with fewer people walking around. Those present moved with more purpose, going through different stalls quietly or entering and exiting card shops with the air of people conducting serious business.

  Yang stopped by a few vendors, asking about prices for heat regulation cards, air purifying cards, and his other creations so he'd have a better idea of the rates.

  "Heat regulation cards?" one vendor said, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes. "They cost about thirteen to fifteen shillings depending on quality. Winter's coming, so demand's up."

  Another vendor, this one a young man barely older than Yang appeared, quoted similar numbers. "Air purifying cards go for about five shillings. Not as much demand since most folk are used to the smoke."

  Yang also entered a few shops, asking prices there as well.

  One shop was larger, with glass display cases showing cards arranged by type. The proprietor, an elderly man with spectacles, quoted slightly higher prices. "We guarantee quality here. Eighteen shillings for heat regulation, twelve for air purification. All cards tested and certified."

  Once he had an idea of the price ranges, Yang entered a shop at random and made a beeline toward the man at the counter.

  "Good afternoon," Yang greeted. "Do you buy cards? I'm a Cardwright here to sell some of my work."

  The man looked at him with interest, keeping a professional mask on his face. "Yes, we do purchase from independent Cardwrights. But we only buy from registered members of the Cardwright Association. Too many frauds otherwise."

  Yang smiled and said, "That won't be a problem."

  He took out his registration card, the one the association had given him, which showed him to be a Grade One registered Cardwright.

  The man looked at the card, and his polite expression turned to one of genuine interest. He returned the card to Yang and moved to the side, taking out a velvet-lined tray from beneath the counter.

  "Please, place what you wish to sell here."

  Yang took out all eleven cards from his coat pocket and arranged them on the tray. The man inspected each one closely, activating them briefly to test functionality. His expression grew increasingly pleased as he worked through the stack.

  "I'm interested in these, Mr. Valemore," the man said. It took Yang a second to realize the man was speaking to him, and he almost asked how the shopkeeper knew his name before remembering the registration card had displayed his name and certification date.

  The man continued, "Clearly I can't give you full retail market price, as I need to maintain a profit margin for the shop. You won't get retail rate, but I can offer fair wholesale prices."

  He picked up one of the heat regulation cards. "I can offer you ten shillings for each heat regulation card. They're well-made, and there's current demand in the market due to arriving winter."

  Then he gestured to the remaining five cards. "For these other cards, the light card, fireball card, cutting card, water spray card, and one air purifying card, I can offer forty shillings total for all five together."

  "That's sixty shillings for the six heat regulation cards and forty for the others. I can give you one hundred shillings total for all eleven cards."

  Yang considered. It was less than retail, but not unreasonably so. The man was being fairly honest about his margins. And selling all eleven at once saved Yang the trouble of hawking them individually or dealing with multiple buyers.

  "I'll accept that," Yang said. "But I have a question. Do you sell card creation supplies as well?"

  The man's expression brightened. "We do indeed. Blank cards, energy stones, inscription pens if you need one. What are you looking for?"

  "Blank cards and energy stones only," Yang replied.

  "Excellent. Come this way."

  The man led Yang to a back section of the shop where supplies were stored. Shelves held stacks of blank crystal cards in various qualities. Boxes contained energy stones sorted by type and potency.

  "Basic blank cards are six shillings for a set of ten," the man explained. "Energy stones are two shillings each for 100 gm."

  Yang did quick math. With one hundred shillings from the card sale, he could buy a decent amount of supplies and still have money left for food and other necessities.

  "I'll take ten sets of blank cards," Yang said. That would be sixty shillings, giving him one hundred blank cards to work with. "And 500 gm of energy stones."

  "Excellent choice. That comes to seventy shillings total."

  The transaction was completed quickly. The man packaged the blank cards carefully in a sturdy cloth bag and added the energy stones in a separate padded pouch. He handed Yang the remaining thirty shillings in coins.

  "If you have more cards to sell in the future, I'm willing to buy them at good rates," the man said as Yang prepared to leave. "Quality work like yours is always in demand."

  "I'll keep that in mind," Yang replied.

  "Thank you, Mr. Valemore. Good luck with your card creation."

  Yang left the shop with the bag of supplies in his hand and thirty shillings in his pocket. A successful transaction. He now had resources to continue creating cards and feeding the status bar.

  Making his way out of the market area, Yang noticed a stall selling some kind of sandwich. The smell hit him first, savory and appealing. It had been a long time since he'd eaten something like that.

  Yang couldn't resist. He stood in line behind a few other customers and ordered a chicken sandwich when his turn came.

  "One chicken sandwich, that'll be one penny," the woman said. One penny equaled one-fourth of a shilling, Yang had learned.

  Yang hung the supply bag's handle on his wrist as he paid the woman and took hold of his sandwich, taking a bite.

  The bread was fresh and crusty on the outside, soft inside. The chicken was seasoned with herbs he didn't recognize but tasted good, savory and a bit spicy. There were thin slices of some kind of pickled vegetable adding tanginess, and a spread of what might have been butter or soft cheese. Simple but satisfying and reminding him of his first life.

  Yang made his way back to Lucien's flat while eating, savoring each bite. The sandwich was gone by the time he was halfway home, and Yang licked his fingers clean, not wanting to waste any of the flavor.

  The walk back felt lighter than the walk there. Yang had successfully sold his cards, acquired more supplies, and still had money left over.