That night, after the hut finally fell quiet, Mingzhi realized he had forgotten something important.

  He sat cross-legged on the floor of Hut 404, staring at the pill bottle in his hand.

  “…Right,” he muttered. “The pills. I spent all day cooking for others and forgot to eat.”

  The absurdity of it almost made him laugh. He had refined them with his own hands, planned their timing carefully—and then completely forgotten because two powerful women had nearly turned his living space into an elemental battlefield.

  He uncorked the bottle and swallowed one of the Earth Pills.

  The effect was subtle, but not without consequence. A heavy warmth sank through his limbs, grounding him… and weighing his chest. His breath slowed, but his pulse tightened. Thoughts settled into order, yet he felt a faint tug, as if the earth itself wanted to pull him down.

  Good, he thought. I needed this… but I can’t linger too long.

  By the time dawn crept through the cracks in the Waste Sector, the pill’s effects had fully dispersed. His cultivation hadn’t leapt forward—but it felt… steadier. Less leaky. As if the bucket he was filling finally had fewer holes.

  That would have to be enough.

  Early morning mist clung to the outer paths of the sect as Mingzhi made his way toward the women’s dormitory.

  He noticed the looks almost immediately.

  They weren’t hostile. They weren’t reverent either. Just… different.

  Whispers trailed behind him as he passed.

  “That’s him, right?”

  “The one from the Liu mission?”

  “They say the heir should’ve died…”

  “Luck,” someone scoffed. “But luck like that doesn’t come twice.”

  Mingzhi kept his head down, expression neutral. He didn’t deny it—not outwardly, not inwardly either.

  Luck was a skill. A dangerous one.

  At Rou’s door, he knocked once.

  It opened almost immediately.

  Rou stood there already dressed for travel, hair tied back, sword strapped at her waist. For half a heartbeat, surprise flickered across her face—then her smile bloomed, warm and unguarded.

  “You came early,” she said.

  “So did you,” Mingzhi replied.

  She stepped aside to let him in, clearly pleased. The room was simple but neat, faintly scented with clean water and morning air.

  As they walked, Mingzhi explained the mission.

  “Herb gathering,” he said. “Crimson-Vein Earth Fruit. But the location’s the problem—Titan’s Spine Gorge. High Earth Qi density. Tier Two beasts confirmed.”

  Rou’s expression sobered, but there was no fear in her eyes. “So we don’t go deep.”

  “Exactly,” Mingzhi nodded. “We take the perimeter. If it feels wrong, we leave. No heroics.”

  She smiled faintly. “You’re getting cautious.”

  “I’m getting realistic.”

  After a short round of preparation, they left the sect grounds together.

  The journey took several hours.

  The terrain gradually changed as they traveled west. The soil darkened, turning from loose loam to packed, iron-rich earth. The Spirit Qi thickened—not vibrant or lively like near the sect, but heavy, pressing down on the lungs.

  By the time the land began to rise sharply, Mingzhi felt it in his bones.

  Every step felt like pushing through invisible molasses. The cliffs pressed in from both sides; shadows seemed unnaturally dark. Mingzhi could sense the slightest tremor of Earth Qi reverberating up the gorge — warning him the ground itself remembered every weight placed upon it.

  Titan’s Spine lived up to its name, it felt wrong the moment they stepped inside.

  The trees here were stunted and twisted, their trunks thick and warped as if grown under an invisible weight. Roots clawed out of the ground instead of sinking into it, coiling over rocks like petrified serpents. Even the leaves were dull and heavy, hanging limply from branches rather than rustling in the wind.

  There was no wind.

  Sound behaved strangely in the gorge. Their footsteps were swallowed almost instantly, as if the earth itself refused to echo them. Mingzhi felt pressure pressing down on his shoulders—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him of every breath he took. Even his heartbeat felt slower, thicker.

  The soil beneath his boots was dark and compact, grainy yet unyielding, like compressed iron sand. When he crouched and touched it, his fingers tingled faintly with dense Earth Qi.

  “This place,” Mingzhi muttered, pressing his palms against the soil, “feels like it wants to swallow everything that moves.”

  Jagged ridges of stone jutted from the earth like vertebrae of some colossal beast. The gorge itself cut deep into the land, its walls sheer and uneven, threaded with veins of exposed rock that pulsed faintly with Earth Qi.

  The air was still.

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  Too still.

  “This place…” Rou murmured. “It feels like the ground is watching us.”

  “It’s the Qi,” Mingzhi said quietly. “Dense enough to warp perception.”

  He crouched and pressed his palm to the earth.

  “Let me test something.”

  He attempted to Earth Burrow.

  The Qi responded sluggishly, dragging him downward like thick clay. Halfway through, the earth clawed at his thighs, threatening to lock him in place. One wrong pull, one misstep, and he might not escape in time.

  “…That’s it?” Rou asked, suppressing a giggle.

  “That’s it,” Mingzhi confirmed, pulling himself free. “No full burrowing here. If we get stuck underground, we die.”

  He met her eyes seriously. “Rule one: don’t go deep. If you hear anything strange—retreat immediately.”

  She nodded without argument.

  They split up shortly after entering the designated search zone, maintaining distance but keeping a clear retreat path toward the meeting point.

  “Spirit,“ Mingzhi thought. “Where should I search?“

  “The deeper you go, the denser the Earth Qi becomes, “ the Spirit replied. “The herb prefers pressure, but not instability. Follow the gradient—avoid fault lines and predator territories.“

  With the Spirit’s guidance, Mingzhi moved carefully, skirting areas where the earth felt “hollow” or too active.

  Time passed slowly.

  He avoided danger not through strength, but patience. He waited for vibrations to pass. He altered routes when Qi patterns shifted. Once, he flattened himself against a stone outcrop as a massive, unseen presence passed nearby, its footsteps heavy enough to tremble the ground.

  He didn’t breathe until it was gone.

  After roughly a meal’s time, Rou signaled from afar.

  She had only encountered a single low-level beast—a rock-scaled lizard easily driven off—and had widened her search perimeter as instructed.

  Good, Mingzhi thought. She’s being careful.

  He continued.

  Fifty minutes later, fatigue crept in—not physical, but mental. The constant vigilance wore on him. He was just beginning to consider retreat when the Spirit spoke again.

  “I’ve detected something worth checking,“ the Spirit said. “Deeper in. Approximately thirty meters.“

  Mingzhi hesitated.

  “How much deeper?” he asked aloud.

  “Not far,“ the Spirit replied. “And still within my reliable sensing range.“

  Mingzhi exhaled slowly. “…Alright. Just a look.”

  He advanced carefully.

  The pressure increased with every step. The earth beneath his boots felt almost metallic now, compacted beyond normal limits. When he knelt and began scraping at the ground, the resistance was immediate.

  Five minutes passed.

  He had only dug five centimeters.

  But then—

  “There it is,“ the Spirit said.

  Mingzhi brushed away the last layer of compacted soil.

  Nestled within the dense earth was the Crimson-Vein Earth Fruit. Its surface was rough and stone-like, veins of dark red energy pulsing slowly beneath its skin.

  He exhaled, but the relief was thin, fraying at the edges.

  “Yes,” he muttered, carefully extracting the fruit and storing it in his eye space.

  The moment felt too quiet. Too safe.

  Mission complete—but he couldn’t shake the sensation that Titan’s Spine was watching.

  He turned to leave—

  —and froze.

  “Spirit,“ he thought. “You feel that?“

  “Yes,“ the Spirit replied, its tone different now. “Far deeper in the Spine—at the limits of my sensing perimeter—something radiates an Earth Qi density unlike anything I’ve sensed. Vast. Pure. Its edges are blurred, and it resists detection. Approaching would be… fatal with your current strength.”

  Mingzhi frowned. “What could radiate something like that?”

  There was a pause.

  “…I do not know,“ the Spirit admitted.

  Mingzhi chuckled quietly despite himself. “So there are things you don’t know.”

  “Many,“ the Spirit replied dryly. “This world is large. And old.“

  Mingzhi’s smile faded.

  “It’s gotten really quiet,” he murmured. “Too quiet. I feel like I could just walk there… and that’s exactly why I shouldn’t.”

  He shook his head firmly. “That kind of treasure is protected by something I can’t even comprehend right now. I’m not trying my luck.”

  “A wise decision,“ the Spirit agreed. “With your current strength, greed would be suicide.“

  “Thanks,” Mingzhi said sincerely.

  He turned back toward the perimeter.

  Halfway out—

  A distant sound carried through the gorge.

  A sharp clash. Shouting. Panic.

  Mingzhi’s heart dropped.

  “…That came from the meeting point,” he said, already moving. “Rou.”

  “We should hurry,“ the Spirit urged.

  Mingzhi broke into a run, the oppressive earth pressing down harder with every step.

  Please be safe, he thought.

  And the gorge remained silent.

  Mingzhi didn’t slow down as he moved through the gorge.

  The pressure of Titan’s Spine pressed against his lungs with every breath, but he forced himself forward, footsteps light, ears straining.

  “Spirit, report,“ he projected.

  “Three cultivators,“ the Spirit replied instantly. “One female—your partner—engaged in combat. Two male auxiliaries. The leader is Wang Hu. Based on energy output and restraint patterns… they are not attempting to kill her.“

  Mingzhi’s jaw tightened. “They want to capture her.”

  “Affirmative. Probability exceeds ninety percent. She is leverage.“

  Mingzhi swore under his breath. “They’ll use her to restrain me.”

  “Most likely,“ the Spirit agreed. “She is valuable bait.“

  As he drew closer, voices carried through the dense air.

  “Let me go!” Rou shouted, her voice sharp with fury rather than fear.

  A heavy laugh followed.

  “And why would we do that?” Wang Hu drawled. “Where’s your little friend? You two came together, didn’t you?”

  “I won’t tell you,” Rou snapped.

  “Suit yourself,” Wang Hu said lazily. “We can wait. That rat will crawl back sooner or later.”

  Mingzhi slowed to a stop behind a cluster of jagged stone.

  “Spirit,“ he thought grimly. “What do we do?“

  Silence stretched for half a breath.

  “You cannot defeat three Cloud Gathering Level Four cultivators head-on,“ the Spirit said bluntly. “Probability of success is negligible.“

  “I know,” Mingzhi replied. “Even rescuing Rou by force is impossible.”

  “Then your survival odds are poor.“

  Mingzhi exhaled slowly, mind racing.

  “…I’ll have to make them let her go,” he said. “And then we run.”

  “You cannot outrun them for long in this terrain,“ the Spirit warned.

  “I don’t need long,” Mingzhi said quietly. “Just enough.”

  He straightened—and stepped out from the trees.

  “I knew it was you,” Mingzhi called out, voice carrying clearly through the gorge. “I could smell you from miles away.”

  The lackeys spun around instantly.

  “You—!” Li barked. “You dare show your face?!”

  Zhou sneered. “Boss, look! The mud rat crawled out from scraping the ground!”

  Wang Hu turned slowly.

  There he is.

  His grin widened, cruel and confident.

  “Well, well,” Wang Hu said. “If it isn’t the dirt-loving genius himself. Finished digging holes already?”

  Mingzhi scratched his ear casually. “Big muscles, little brain. Can’t you come up with something new?”

  Zhou bristled. “Boss, let me break his legs first!”

  “Shut up,” Wang Hu said without looking back. His eyes never left Mingzhi. “He’s mine.”

  Mingzhi glanced at Rou. She was restrained, but not injured—yet. Her eyes met his, sharp and alert.

  “Didn’t you hear?” Mingzhi said lightly. “Cultivating the mind doesn’t mean packing your head full of rocks.”

  Wang Hu’s smile faded.

  The ground beneath his feet sank half an inch.

  “Strength is enough,” he said.

  “And yet,” Mingzhi replied, “last time you still needed two idiots and a bag of dust.”

  Li exploded. “That wasn’t fair!”

  Zhou nodded furiously. “Yeah! You cheated!”

  Mingzhi tilted his head. “You brought numbers. I brought brains. If that hurts your feelings, maybe cultivate thicker skin.”

  Rou’s lips twitched — but her eyes never left Wang Hu.

  Wang Hu’s Qi flared, the ground beneath his feet cracking slightly.

  “Enough,” Wang Hu growled. “Let’s see how much you can talk after I beat you into the dirt.”

  “Before we start,” Mingzhi said calmly, raising a hand, “let her go.”

  Wang Hu tightened his grip on Rou’s arm.

  She winced — just slightly.

  The sound was small.

  It landed like a hammer in Mingzhi’s chest.

  Wang Hu laughed outright. “And let you run like the coward you are? No chance.”

  As he spoke, Mingzhi projected quietly—

  “Rou. After I provoke him, run. Don’t look back. Head for the sect. “

  A brief pause.

  Then Rou gave the slightest nod.

  Mingzhi lowered his hand.

  “Then come,” he said, eyes sharp. “If you dare, musclebrain.”

  The word landed like a spark on dry tinder.

  Wang Hu didn’t roar.

  He simply stepped forward.

  The ground cracked.

  Then he was suddenly there.

  “NOW!” Mingzhi shouted.

  The air collapsed between them.