Han Yue returned two days later, not with a worried face, but with the flushed exhaustion of a woman who had successfully wrestled a tiger. She found Lin Feng, naturally, shoveling the cleanest manure in the Outer Sect.
"We are in business, you ridiculous genius," she whispered, pulling him into the shadow of the main stable wall. She handed him three brittle, sealed documents. "I used three of the names from the old, unclaimed casualty roster. 'Elder Bao,' 'Disciple Hui,' and 'The Anonymous Benevolent Cultivator of Sector 9.' They are now the official, registered owners of three separate, tiny plots of land on the desolate eastern fringe of the estate."
"How desolate?" Lin Feng asked, wiping his brow with the back of a hand that could now crush boulders.
"Horribly desolate," Han Yue confirmed with a satisfied smirk. "They're basically rocky patches where even weeds struggle to survive. No one will ever trespass, because there's nothing to steal except rocks and shame. I also managed to secure enough Luminous Moss seeds for the first two planting cycles. The profits from the Polish are staggering, Lin Feng. We made enough to buy a dozen Foundation Pills, but I invested everything in land and seeds, just as you ordered."
Lin Feng felt a genuine surge of warmth—a feeling rarely produced by spiritual resources, but often by competent partners. "You are more than competent, Han Yue. You are the only administrative mastermind this estate has ever known. Your efficiency is a balm to my chaos."
Han Yue blushed, leaning closer, enjoying the private intimacy of their conspiracy. "Oh, chaos is it? I thought I was simply helping a dedicated, though slightly flirtatious, stable hand cultivate his… herbs."
"The flirtation is purely for stress relief," Lin Feng murmured, letting his eyes linger on hers before pulling back to business. "The work begins tonight. Meet me at the first plot—Elder Bao's land—at midnight. Bring nothing but the seeds and a clean bucket. And be prepared to see the true meaning of rapid, accelerated cultivation."
Midnight on the eastern fringe of the Azure Cloud Sect Estate was a lonely, dark affair. The distant, powerful arrays of the Inner Peak cast a pale, cold luminescence on the mountain, but down here, under the heavy pressure of the spiritual atmosphere, it felt empty and mundane.
Han Yue found the spot easily. The land was truly dismal—a patch of hard, unforgiving dirt choked with sharp stones and stubble.
Lin Feng was already there, his figure barely visible in the dark, save for the faint, steady pulse of his internal Qi.
"This is it," Lin Feng said softly. "The Unholy Garden."
Han Yue set down the bucket of seeds. "What do we do now? We plant them, and wait six months?"
Lin Feng shook his head. "We plant them, and we wait three hours."
He walked to the center of the barren plot. He retrieved his iron-reinforced shovel—the one he now considered a quasi-spiritual artifact—and began working the soil. His movements were fluid, powerful, and utterly silent. In less than twenty minutes, he had loosened and tilled the entire plot, mixing in handfuls of purified spiritual dirt he had snuck from the stables.
He then took the Luminous Moss seeds. Instead of scattering them, he placed them in precise, geometric patterns known only to the Primordial Chaos Art, ensuring the energy flow would be maximized.
Finally, he stood up, closed his eyes, and gathered his power.
"Foundation Establishment Level Six. All things spring from the Wood element," he thought.
He channeled the pure, hyper-refined Wood Qi from his core, pushing it out of his dantian, past his meridians, and through his hands and feet, straight into the prepared soil.
This was a massive drain. Unlike simply cultivating inward, forcing life essence outwards to accelerate growth was like trying to empty a large lake with a teaspoon. Lin Feng's muscles tensed, and his face beaded with sweat.
A vast, glowing, jade-green dome of energy slowly formed around the small patch of land. This was the external manifestation of his Wood Qi, refined to such a degree that it functioned like a miniature, accelerated spring season, forcing the seeds to sprout, grow, and mature at impossible speed.
Han Yue gasped. She had seen Qi Condensation disciples try to grow herbs, but it was always slow, clumsy, and rarely successful. This was different. This was violent acceleration.
She watched in disbelief as the tiny seeds cracked, and pale green tendrils of moss shot up from the dirt. Within thirty minutes, the entire plot was covered in a thin, vibrant layer of moss. By the end of the first hour, the moss had thickened and started to shimmer with its natural, dull light.
Lin Feng pushed harder. The intense resistance from the spiritual ecosystem, combined with the extreme demand on his core, acted as a physical forge. His dantian felt hot, expanding, straining against its boundaries.
Level Six is too weak for this kind of external manipulation. I need more reservoir capacity.
The intense resistance triggered the unique mechanism of the Primordial Chaos Art: rapid self-improvement under duress.
A deep, resonating crack echoed through Lin Feng's meridians—silent, but profound. The green dome of Wood Qi instantly became denser, more stable, and slightly purpler around the edges.
Lin Feng opened his eyes. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, but underneath it was the unmistakable, solid feeling of a greater power. He had just broken through to Foundation Establishment Level Seven—a mid-stage breakthrough achieved by forcing his body to complete a difficult task.
He had spent almost his entire Level Six Qi reservoir, but the growth was complete.
The plot of land now held a thick, carpet-like layer of Vitality-Infused Moss. It glowed with such a brilliant, healthy emerald light that it looked like a section of an Inner Peak spiritual garden had been surgically transplanted onto the desolate fringe. The effect was hypnotic.
"It's done," Lin Feng panted, wiping the sweat from his eyes.
Han Yue was speechless. She walked forward and gently touched the moss. It was warm and pulsed faintly, radiating a healthy, fresh Qi.
"This is insane, Lin Feng. You grew a six-month harvest in ninety minutes," she finally managed. "And that pressure… did you just… breakthrough?"
"Necessity is the mother of cultivation, Han Yue," Lin Feng replied, the flirtation returning now that the crisis was over. "But yes. Level Seven. Now, we harvest."
The subsequent two hours were spent harvesting the high-grade moss and replanting the plot for the next cycle. They worked in quiet, efficient harmony, Han Yue acting as the diligent logistics expert and Lin Feng as the powerhouse.
As they were carefully sealing the last of the glowing moss into the bucket, a sound broke the silence—a slow, heavy, suspicious trudge coming from the direction of the stables.
"It's Cao," Lin Feng hissed, immediately smothering the luminous glow of the moss and suppressing his Level Seven aura.
They ducked behind the remnants of a rusted spiritual fence.
Head Servant Cao appeared, holding a large, smoking incense stick that wavered nervously in his hand. He was wearing his night robes, his face pale and contorted with fear and suspicion. He shuffled slowly, his eyes darting wildly.
Cao had been having the worst sleep of his career. For the last three hours, he had felt a bizarre, intermittent spiritual fluctuation—a powerful, deep wave of Wood Qi followed by a silence, then another wave—coming from the direction of the abandoned plots. The sheer purity of the Qi was terrifying; it was the kind of essence that should only be found near the Inner Peak.
"I know someone is here," Cao muttered to himself, clutching the incense. "The Qi is stuttering, coming and going! It sounds like a Foundation Master having an allergic reaction to dust! I felt it three times tonight! It must be a senior master using the Mortal Estate for a secret, disgusting experiment."
He shuffled past the fence, walking directly toward the newly harvested plot, which was now just dark, damp earth again.
Lin Feng and Han Yue held their breath, barely inches apart. Lin Feng could smell the sweet, nervous scent of Han Yue's jasmine-infused robes and felt her slight tremble. He subtly placed his hand over hers, a gesture of silent reassurance and hidden intimacy.
Cao paused directly in front of the tilled dirt. He inhaled deeply, searching for any trace of the strange spiritual activity.
"It smells… wet," Cao grumbled. "Like damp earth and… fresh, newly purified air. This entire place stinks like a newborn baby's nursery! It's wrong! It's unnatural!"
He took a step onto the freshly turned earth, causing his foot to sink slightly into the soft, enriched dirt.
"Aha! Disturbed earth!" Cao whispered triumphantly. He bent down, scraping at the dirt, convinced he had found the sign of the secret intruder.
He found nothing but earth.
Just as he was about to give up, his eyes settled on a small, round object tucked under the spiritual fence where Lin Feng and Han Yue were hiding. It was Lin Feng's shovel—the quasi-spiritual tool, which still faintly radiated the residue of the Wood Qi breakthrough.
Cao stared at the shovel. It was impossibly clean, subtly polished, and looked dangerously efficient.
"The shovel," Cao whispered, his voice trembling with genuine terror. "It's the shovel. The stable hand's shovel. It has absorbed the Qi of the place! The stable boy isn't just cleaning things; he's transforming them! This thing is a spiritual weapon disguised as a tool! He's using the waste to power his equipment!"
Convinced that Lin Feng had a secret sect weapon that was using the spiritual pollution to purify itself, Cao backed away slowly, his eyes wide. He would rather face an enraged Foundation Master than a waste root with a sentient, murderous shovel.
"I saw nothing," Cao declared loudly to the silent night. "The stables are clean. The fields are empty. The shovel… is merely a shovel. I am going back to bed." He turned and shuffled back toward the barracks with unnatural speed.
Han Yue let out a silent breath, leaning heavily against Lin Feng.
"He thought the shovel was the source of the breakthrough," she whispered, a hysterical giggle bubbling up.
"He did," Lin Feng confirmed, retrieving the shovel. "And he will never look here again. He just gave us the perfect decoy. Thank you for the land, Han Yue. Now, for the hard part."
He looked at the bucket of shimmering moss. "We have an overwhelming quality advantage, but Yan Xia controls the distribution. We can't just sell this directly; she will crush us with political pressure. We need a strategy to get this into the hands of the Inner Sect Alchemists who will recognize its value and ignore Yan Xia's control."
Lin Feng's eyes focused on the moon. "The Inner Sect Alchemy Examination is in one week. It's the perfect target."