On the third floor of the ancient building.
As soon as Lin Xian'er rushed up, her eyes darted toward the center.
There stood an ancient altar, its surface covered with fine cracks from the erosion of countless years.
A faint spiritual glow upon it was just beginning to fade.
Her expression changed, and she sped toward the altar.
After inspecting it briefly, her face darkened.
"As expected… a teleportation array."
She glanced around the altar and spotted several grooves.
The spirit stones embedded within had already been drained dry, reduced to mere powder.
With a sweep of her palm, she blew away the dust and embedded fresh spirit stones.
The altar's formation flared to life—only for the glow to vanish in the next instant as the spirit stones shattered, their energy dissipated.
"The quality of these spirit stones isn't enough?"
Her face grew grim.
It was said that in ancient times, heaven and earth brimmed with dense, pure spiritual energy. Spirit stone mines were abundant then, and the stones themselves were divided into four grades: supreme, high, medium, and low.
But after countless changes to the world, cultivation resources had waned. Spirit stone veins were now extremely scarce, and nearly all produced only low-grade stones.
Clearly, this altar was a relic of antiquity.
And such an ancient formation could not be activated with mere low-grade stones.
She didn't believe that decrepit old man could possess higher-grade spirit stones. The only explanation was that the altar had originally been set with such stones, and the last dregs of their power had now been consumed.
Her face turned uglier still.
If low-grade stones couldn't power the array, how was she supposed to leave?
After much thought, no solution came. She had no choice but to return to the second floor.
The spiritual pool there could at least help her cultivation. For now, she would simply take one step at a time.
Yet every time the thought of that old man crossed her mind, she couldn't help but grit her teeth in fury.
Lin Xian'er's suspicions were right.
Wang Jianqiang indeed had no higher-grade stones. He had merely triggered the formation using what remained in the altar.
Now, he stood before a medicine garden.
To call it a "garden" was an understatement—this place stretched as far as the eye could see, vast and boundless.
Medicinal plants of every kind grew wildly, precious herbs sprouting as if they were common weeds.
Wang Jianqiang couldn't hold back his eagerness as he stepped inside.
No sooner had he entered than he spotted dozens of stalks of Jade Ginseng growing together in a patch not far away.
Jade Ginseng!
It was the core ingredient for refining Foundation Establishment Pills.
He strode forward at once, reaching out to pluck one.
But just as his fingers brushed the stalk, a burst of spiritual light flared beside it.
A force repelled his hand, and before he could react, his vision swam—suddenly, he found himself in an empty space.
Buzz—
A cluster of light condensed ahead, quickly solidifying into a figure.
It looked exactly like Wang Jianqiang—down to his cultivation realm.
"So… this is the trial for picking herbs?"
He frowned slightly, but before he could ponder further, the light figure lunged at him.
At a thought, Wang Jianqiang summoned the Perfect Cloudwater Coldlight Sword.
The phantom's strike was instantly shattered, and the Coldlight Sword pierced through its body.
The figure crumbled into fragments.
His vision flickered—and he was back in the garden.
"As expected… a trial."
Muttering to himself, he reached once more for the Jade Ginseng.
This time, nothing hindered him. He plucked it easily.
After that, he harvested nine more.
But when he tried to take the eleventh, that familiar surge of spiritual force returned.
Brows lifting, Wang Jianqiang made no attempt to dodge.
A moment later, he was drawn once again into the trial space.
Light condensed into another figure identical to him—cultivation and all.
The phantom appeared and immediately struck, a sword of icy cold light flashing forth.
At the sight of it, Wang Jianqiang's eyes widened slightly.
The Cloudwater Coldlight Sword!
The phantom had actually used his own sword art!
He dodged swiftly, studying it with growing interest instead of striking back.
For a while, he tangled with the figure.
At last, he summoned the Perfect Mysticwater Ring, infusing it into his Coldlight Sword. With that power, he split the phantom apart.
Once again, his vision swam, and he returned to the garden.
One stalk, then another.
When he reached the twenty-first, the trial came again.
"So, every ten stalks is a threshold. Each time I exceed it, the test is triggered."
Realization flashed in his mind as the space swallowed him once more.
The phantom appeared, striking at once with the Coldlight Sword.
A gleam of light shimmered over Wang Jianqiang as the Perfect Moonwater Robe wrapped around him.
Moonlight rippled forth.
Clang!
The sword struck, moonlight trembling violently.
His expression hardened—he quickly channeled the Mysticwater Ring to bolster the robe.
Moonlight blazed, just barely withstanding the blow.
But his eyes locked on the phantom's hand, where a familiar ring glimmered.
The Perfect Mysticwater Ring!
So, the trial was scaling upward.
The more techniques he revealed, the stronger the next phantom would be—mirroring his abilities, one by one.
If this continued, eventually it would master all of his techniques, leaving him no path to victory.
Understanding the garden's rules, he no longer hesitated.
With the combined might of his Coldlight Sword, Mysticwater Ring, and Moonwater Robe, he swiftly cut down the third phantom.
Back in the garden, he harvested the remaining six stalks and moved toward another patch in the distance.
All were Jade Ginseng.
He reasoned that everyone would have a limit to how many they could harvest. The exact number would depend on their strength and methods.
But Jade Ginseng was the rarest of all Foundation Pill ingredients.
Other herbs could be purchased outside—but this one could not.
And he had no idea how many Perfect Foundation Pills he would need. Likely… quite a lot.
To be safe, he decided to gather only Jade Ginseng.
Though there were surely rarer herbs in this garden, none of them mattered if he failed to establish his foundation.
At the forty-first stalk, the fourth trial came.
This time, he had intended to hold back, relying only on instinct and battle sense, so that the fifth trial would not escalate further.
But he had overestimated himself.
Though the phantom had no true intelligence, its combat experience far surpassed his expectations. Within a few moves, he was being driven into a corner.
Helpless, he unleashed the Perfect Little Thousand Mountain Seal, smashing the phantom into fragments.
Back in the garden, he continued harvesting.
At fifty-one stalks, the fifth trial began.
After a fierce battle, he relied on the Perfect Wind-Chasing Boots to erupt with sudden speed and defeat the phantom.
Soon after, the sixth trial began.
It ended only after a grueling struggle, when he finally summoned the Perfect Profound Light Seal to prevail.
The seventh trial.
This time, he unveiled his trump card—the Minor Five Elements Sword Array.
With three layers stacked, he shattered the phantom's defenses and destroyed it.
In the eighth trial, he escalated to four layers, spending great effort to secure victory.
By the ninth trial, he had exhausted everything, forced to unleash the full Five-Layer Sword Array to cut down the phantom.
Back in the garden, he plucked another ten stalks.
But when his hand reached for the next one, he froze.
He knew—picking this stalk would trigger the tenth trial.
By then, the phantom would have mastered all his means, and its battle experience surpassed his own.
Victory would be nearly impossible.
He almost gave up.
But then, like a bolt of lightning, a thought struck him.
Hadn't he still kept one last card hidden?