Diplomacy between sects was a tricky business. The comprehensive idea of something like diplomatic immunity was, of course, a distant dream. On the other hand, most sects adhered to some basic civilized norms of behavior and at least didn't outright murder messengers. Provided that the messenger didn't overstep their bounds.

Basic survival, therefore, dictated that one remain within the bounds of courtesy. Muchen was a reasonable person, and didn't mind being polite. Especially when he was talking to people who could kill him. Unfortunately, while being a pushover would keep you alive, it wasn't necessarily the best approach for getting anything done.

Sects related to each other on the basis of their strength. A request that might be perfectly reasonable for a strong sect would be seen as a presumptuous demand if it came from a weakling. To some extent, cultivators followed this logic in reverse as well: a messenger who showed up out of nowhere making arrogant demands was likely to come from a strong sect, while an emissary who bent over backwards to be polite probably came from a weak sect.

Accordingly, Muchen had to be a little pushy if he wanted to get anywhere. Just a little, though. After all, the reason it was only the strong sects who made ridiculous demands was because messengers from weak sects who tried the same thing would be killed once their lack of powerful backing was exposed.

In other words, being a dick to the guard at the gate was a useful way to signal his status without offending anybody important. Once he'd established a basic level of mutual respect, he could then show more courtesy upon meeting with the higher ups. Of course, matters would get rather delicate if the gate guard decided not to play along.

"Our Iron Bones sect doesn't have time to entertain every Flower Mountain, Flower Hill, or Flower Fields sect who comes along," the guard replied.

"That's a shame," Muchen said. He held out his hand and drew on his spiritual energy. For just a few seconds, his hand was sheathed in a crackling gauntlet of electricity. "Perhaps you have time to exchange pointers?"

The Storm Dragon scripture was a remarkable cultivation method. It allowed its user to manifest his spiritual energy in the form of lightning, infusing every attack with a deadly edge. Lightning energy had a notorious reputation as the Qianzhan Continent's ultimate offensive weapon, capable of breaking through most mystic defenses.

At Muchen's level he was only capable of putting on a brief light show. He could probably knock out an ordinary mortal if he touched them while the technique was active, but then he could do the same thing just by slapping them on the back of the head.

Fortunately, all that he needed to do for the moment was to put on a show for an outer disciple low enough on the totem pole to be assigned to gate duty.

The guard took a step back. "No need, I don't dare waste the time of an honored guest. Please wait here for a moment while I fetch elder Yang."

Muchen nodded, and the guard took off. Muchen clasped his hands behind his back and did his best to look carefree.

There was a possibility that the guard was running off to fetch somebody to smash Muchen into the ground. He didn't think it was very likely, though. A little bit of boasting and intimidation was par for the course when cultivators met for the first time. As far as establishing relations between sects went, he was still within the bounds of a friendly greeting.

The outer disciples engaged in their sparring contest hadn't paid any attention to the interaction between Muchen and the guard. It was probably a good sign that the guard hadn't ushered them out of the way. Muchen watched with interest as another pair of pre teens did their best to beat the tar out of each other.

It was worrying to see kids going at each other with such verve. Especially as it seemed to be an everyday occurrence, rather than some special event. The skill on display wasn't something Muchen could match. Oh, if he were in a real fight he could bully them with the strength provided by his advanced cultivation base, but in terms of actual skill he would be badly outclassed. These kids had put in the time to master unarmed combat.

None of them were yet at an age to begin true cultivation, which limited their martial feats to the realm of human capabilities, but Muchen could see their future in the shadow of every punch and kick. These kids were not being prepared for any kind of warm and fuzzy dao of mutual cooperation. They were setting off on the road of martial prowess purely for the sake of martial prowess. Maybe those abilities would be put to some kind of constructive use, but that would be pure happenstance.

The Iron Bones sect made sure its disciples all knew how to fight. He couldn't help but wonder how much time it spent on teaching them why.

Muchen was drawn out of his thoughts when the gate guard came back into view. Trailing behind him was a man who looked to be in his late twenties. With cultivators, of course, looks could be deceiving. Considering that this elder had been summoned to deal with an unruly guest, he was probably more than capable of mopping the floor with Muchen if push came to shove.

Muchen maintained his upright stance. He cupped his hands in greeting as the pair came within conversational distance. "Greetings."

The elder looked Muchen up and down, before deciding he wasn't a threat. He'd been carrying himself with just a bit of tension as a result of the gate guard's report, but relaxed as soon as he had laid eyes on Muchen himself. "Flower Mountain, eh? What do you want?"

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Some part of Muchen's hindbrain bristled at the elder's dismissal of him as a threat. He shoved down that bit of misplaced pride. He was here to strike a deal, not to jump into some kind of cultivation-measuring contest.

"As I said earlier," Muchen said. "I would like to establish friendly relations between our sects."

The elder nodded. He was savvy enough to realize that Muchen hadn't come all this way just to introduce himself. He also clearly wasn't going to take the initiative to open up the next phase of the competition.

Muchen waited for a moment before continuing. "I have also found myself in need of spirit stones."

"You and everybody else," the elder replied.

"Of course, I'm willing to pay," Muchen said. "How much silver would be required to buy ten spirit stones?"

The elder studied him for a moment before replying. "Entering the qualification tournament?"

"Just so," Muchen said. The admission gave away the fact that Flower Mountain was not yet officially recognized by the Qianzhan Empire. On the other hand, it also showed their confidence. Any sect willing to drop ten spirit stones to enter a tournament had some confidence that they would get official recognition out of it.

"We don't have any need for silver," the elder said. "Where would we spend it?"

Muchen took another look around the mountain. Certainly, they had enough space out here to grow their own crops, and their disciples looked more than capable of going out to hunt and add some meat to the pot. Muchen didn't believe that they had no need to deal in silver at all, though.

"Silver can purchase many things in the Qianzhan Empire," Muchen said. "You don't need me to tell you where to spend it."

If nothing else, the sect would have to travel to mortal towns in order to recruit more disciples. No self respecting sect elder would spend such a trip roughing it out in the woods. Maintaining decent accomodations for themselves would require plenty of silver, not to mention anything else they might buy while they were in the city.

"Silver is just silver," the elder replied. "Spirit stones are a piece of immortality."

"A small piece," Muchen said. "I understand that you won't sell them for a hundred taels each. But for two hundred? Three hundred?"

A light flashed in the elder's eyes. "Three thousand taels for ten spirit stones is an offer worth considering."

Muchen grinned. At least they'd established the principle that silver could be exchanged for spirit stones. Now all that was left was to settle on the price.

"Three thousand taels is enough to buy a city, let alone some spirit stones," Muchen said. "You need to be realistic."

"I need nothing," the elder said, crossing his arms. "You came seeking to bargain with me."

Muchen didn't respond immediately. He may have underestimated the market value of spirit stones. Or the pride of cultivators. Either way, he decided to switch away from the direct approach for a moment.

"Silver isn't the only thing our sect has to offer," Muchen said. He reached into his pack and withdrew the jug of liquor.

The elder accepted the jug and opened it up before giving it a cautious sniff. Muchen saw an expression of curiosity flicker across his face and vanish.

"Take that as a meeting gift," Muchen said.

The elder nodded, then set the jug behind him. Muchen didn't bother pushing him to set a price on the spirits right away. For one thing, the liquor could only reveal its true worth after he had a chance to drink it. For another, Muchen hadn't brought nearly enough cash or booze to make a deal. Even if he emptied out his savings and the sect's storehouse of liquor, he doubted it would be enough to secure the six spirit stones he needed.

Accordingly, Muchen exchanged a few further pleasantries with the elder before graciously accepting their invitation that he spend the night at the Iron Bones sect. Muchen didn't have to work too hard to keep a pleasant smile on his face as he followed the outer disciple leading him to his quarters.

Even if he hadn't gotten what he wanted, he had at least come away with some valuable information. At two hundred taels per spirit stone, the elder had been a little interested. At three hundred, he had been downright eager to make the sale. Once Muchen had enough cash to make a serious offer, the final price would no doubt settle somewhere in between.

He'd also planted a seed that might well grow into another reliable customer in time. Muchen's jug of wine contained a healthy amount of booze. More than enough for a single person to get blackout drunk. When shared between multiple cultivators, though, it would go fast. There was enough to create an impression, but not enough to sate their thirst. If they wanted to get their hands on more, well, they knew what he wanted.

So far the negotiations hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped, but his trip as a whole had been much better than he'd feared. While he wouldn't be laying his hands on any spirit stones any time soon, at least nobody had attempted to rob or murder him. Cultivators were straightforward people who would resort to violence at the drop of a hat, but Muchen was starting to get a feel for how to avoid hot button issues and manage peaceful negotiations.

The one thing that weighed him down was a newfound sense of poverty. He had been proud of his ability to pile up a few hundred taels of silver in the Flower Mountain storeroom after just a few months of operations. Unfortunately, the cruel reality was that on the scale sects were expected to operate, he was still desperately poor.

Between cultivators, spirit stones were a far more common currency than silver. Muchen had known that it was difficult to exchange between one and the other, but he had underestimated the price that the Iron Bones sect would demand.

Maybe the price would go down in the future. Maybe once the Flower Mountain sect was known far and wide and other sects wanted to get into his good graces, they would rush to send over spirit stones at friendly prices. Or perhaps if Muchen could negotiate directly with a sect that produced its own spirit stones, they wouldn't drive such a difficult bargain.

Of course, the first step on such a rise to prominence would be to perform well at the qualification tournament. And the first step to that success was to register for the tournament and pay the entry fee of ten spirit stones.

Maybe there were some cultivation methods out there that thrived on the contemplation of circular questions, but for his part Muchen was annoyed to stumble across such an obstacle barring him from his first major goal for the sect.

For now, he put aside his worries for the future and focused on learning everything that he could from his brief tour of the Iron Bones sect.