“I managed to plant a high-grade spiritual plant, but who would’ve thought a monkey would appear out of nowhere and destroy it?”

  “I had a similar experience. Fortunately, I learned a combat martial art in my spare time, so I was able to fend it off.”

  “In the end, though, the number of weeds was just too much.”

  Ning’s vision snapped back into focus.

  Stone floor beneath his feet. The familiar scent of damp soil and crushed leaves, and the shouts filling the air, assaulted him at once.

  He was back in the Spiritual Plant Hall. The sounds, the smells, everything carried the unmistakable weight of reality.

  A wave of disorientation washed over him, as if he had spent several days inside the illusion while only an hour or two had passed outside.

  Ning slapped his cheeks lightly, shaking himself awake. “Must be a side effect of the illusion,” he murmured. “Nonetheless, it was a very rewarding experience.”

  If he ignored the lingering dizziness, it truly had been worthwhile.

  Especially the experience of planting the Serpent Flower. Compared to what was written in books, real practice differed far more than he had expected. The Serpent Flower, in particular, was much more interesting and troublesome than anticipated.

  It was an extremely aggressive plant.

  At the beginning, Ning had relied on Scorching Purge to burn away the weeds assaulting the plants. But as the cultivation progressed, the Serpent Flower began to naturally usurp the weeds’ growth opportunities, suppressing them on its own.

  Although this behavior was briefly mentioned in the manuals, the actual effect was far more pronounced in practice.

  But due to it's dominnering aspect, the issue of insufficient fertility arose. Fortunately, Ning was not greedy and even went to an extreme route. He planted only two serpent flowers.

  Though the number of a specific plant cultivated would also count towards the final scoring, this was to play it safe.

  And at the end, it paid off. The fertility of an entire acre of spiritual farmland was more than enough to sustain a single plant. And since this was an illusion, Ning didn’t need to worry about damaging the spirit field or overstimulating the seeds to improve his chances.

  All of this highlighted the true value of illusions as learning tools. Even if some details became vague after waking, their worth did not diminish in the slightest.

  Alas, illusion techniques were often regarded as weak in novels, easily countered by single-minded protagonists. Yet in reality, their applications extended far beyond combat alone.

  “Maybe… when I’m stronger, I can forge a similar artifact. Or at least borrow this one,” Ning mused. This was the first time he felt such a strong attraction toward an artifact. With a tool like this, who would worry about their numbers not going brrr?

  Before he could sink deeper into his thoughts, a sharp voice cut through the hall.

  “Enough. Stop crowding like geese.”

  The chatter died instantly, and everyone quickly straightened themselves.

  “Now,” the elder continued, “I will announce the results.”

  “Ni Lunxia takes first place. He successfully cultivated three high-grade plants: Blood Spirit Rice, Grey Wisteria, and Flame Spirit Herb. He has reached great accomplishment in four basic farming spells, excluding the Golden Finger Technique, and has achieved minor accomplishment in the Earth-Shaking Hoe Technique.”

  Ning blinked.

  As expected. No matter how confident he was in his skills, there was always someone better.

  He glanced sideways, his gaze landing on an older man who appeared to be around fifty. Wearing a straw hat, he carried the unmistakable air of a seasoned farmer.

  Sensing Ning’s gaze, Ni Lunxia nodded. Ning returned the gesture.

  He remembered now that this senior had placed highly in the first test as well. But it seems his practical skills far surpassed his theoretical knowledge.

  “Second place: Ji Ning. He cultivated three high-grade plants: Frozen Breath Grain, Dragon Qi Grass, and Serpent Flower. He achieved great accomplishments in the Withering and Flourishing Technique, Small Rain Cloud Technique, and Soil Refining Technique. He has also reached minor accomplishments in Golden Finger, Scorching Purge, and Hidden Ice Mist.”

  “Third place: Fang Tian.”

  “Fourth place: Cui Xia.”

  “Fifth place: Fei Shin.”

  “Sixth place: Xin Fu.”

  As the names were read out in rapid succession, some rejoiced while others despaired.

  “How is this possible?!”

  “No… no way…”

  “I did it…”

  Ning watched quietly, struck by how familiar the scene felt. It reminded him strongly of Earth.

  “He’s so young, how could he have mastered so many techniques?” someone shouted.

  Ning recognized the voice.

  Xin Fu.

  The man truly was something else. Even after repeated setbacks, he never forgot to say something discordant.

  This time, however, his complaint gained traction.

  After all, aside from Ning, who honestly looked barely fifteen, the others were all middle-aged or elderly men with long white beards. Standing among them, Ning’s youth was glaringly obvious.

  The elder, however, snorted coldly. “Look at you all, sore losers who’ve learned nothing but to grow old!"

  His words instantly silenced the hall.

  Ning blinked at the elder’s crude phrasing, then spoke calmly. “The origins of my spells are clear. All of my basic spells, as well as the Hidden Ice Mist Technique, were obtained from the Spirit Hall. As for how I learned them, isn’t consistent practice enough for improvement to come naturally?”

  At his words, the hall fell silent.

  His so-called “effort” was clearly talent in disguise. After all, hadn’t they been practicing the same techniques for years? Yet their progress paled in comparison.

  The realization left the crowd speechless, but it also quietly resolved their doubts. In this world, talent and genius were explanations powerful enough to silence any argument.

  Some cultivators were simply born with divine bodies or Heaven-given eyes. Learning faster than others was hardly out of line.

  “With that," Ning continued, “the cultivation methods for Frozen Breath Grain and Dragon Qi Grass also came from the library. As for the Serpent Flower…” He chuckled lightly. “There’s a notebook in the library with annotations. If I remember correctly, it’s signed by the elder.”

  It had been a surprise he discovered while browsing. Some books contained rare marginal notes left behind by elders. Ning had spent enough time in the library to collect quite a few of these “notes.”

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  As for why they existed, the reason was simple: elders often left them behind for the so-called ‘fated ones.’ It was a common trope in cultivation worlds, like finding some rare hidden martial art book at some forgotten corner of the library.

  “I didn’t expect you to find that,” the elder said, nodding. “Those were notes I left behind when I guarded the Spirit Plant Hall.”

  He paused before continuing, “You’re quite cunning. Knowing it was me, you deliberately chose to cultivate the Serpent Flower. However, those notes were incomplete. My method differs from yours; I use a vine occupying a small plot, nourishing only one flower. You, on the other hand, were bolder. One vine claimed an entire acre, gathering all the vital energy without fear of interference or competition between roots.”

  “Thank you for the praise, Elder,” Ning replied respectfully. “It was merely a coincidence. Without the elder’s notes, I wouldn’t have succeeded.”

  Building connections was an art. Ning had collected those annotations precisely for moments like this; shared points made people familiar much faster.

  It seemed to work. The elder nodded with a faint smile. “It was your own effort.”

  He then turned to the crowd. “You should all spend more time in the library instead of accusing others. Otherwise, how could you fail to master such basic spells as quickly as Ning?”

  Her gaze sharpened. “Especially you, Xin Fu. This is your final warning. Do not question the fairness of this assessment again.”

  The hall remained deathly silent.

  Ning watched as Xin Fu wilted like a dried flower once more. However, his attention wasn’t on Xin Fu; it was on the two men snickering beside him.

  He clearly remembered seeing those two talking with Xin Fu earlier. And if his memory served him right, one of them had placed fifth in the first test.

  That settled it.

  The mystery was solved. Xin Fu was being used as a tool.

  Not only to accuse Ning, but the main target was probably Xin Fu himself. Repeatedly provoked and subjected to humiliation again and again, his mentality was bound to suffer. In the following tests, his performance would inevitably decline.

  Ning’s thoughts moved swiftly, connecting cause and effect.

  It seemed Xin Fu’s hostility toward him was partly influenced by this manipulation. That made sense. Someone who kept falling for the same tricks clearly wasn’t that smart, and such people usually were easily influenced.

  Soon, the next test began.

  “The third test is disease observation! Enter the room when called!” the elder shouted.

  Ning watched as the crowd gradually thinned. However, this time, he didn't just stay in a corner hidden, but instead moved towards Xin Fu.

  Xin Fu was standing near a stone pillar, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone pale. The man’s shoulders were rigid, his breathing uneven. He looked disgruntled to say the least.

  “Xin Fu,” Ning spoke calmly.

  “What?” Xin Fu said harshly. “Here to mock me, too?”

  Ning raised both hands slightly, palms open. A universal gesture, effective across worlds and civilizations. “No. If I wanted to mock you, I wouldn’t bother coming over.”

  That threw Xin Fu off.

  “…Then what do you want?”

  “To talk,” Ning replied. “Just talk.”

  Xin Fu let out a humorless laugh. “Since when do geniuses want to talk to people like me?”

  Damn! Where was the arrogant guy he met at the beginning?

  Looking at the depressed guy, Ning couldn't help but wonder.

  “First,” Ning said, “if I wanted to step on you, I could’ve done it quietly and walked away. Second-” he paused, lowering his voice slightly, “you’re being used.”

  Xin Fu froze.

  “…What?”

  Ning leaned against the wall beside him, “The people who shouted with you earlier. Especially the two standing behind you, I saw them snickering."

  Xin Fu’s expression darkened. “They were agreeing with me when I spoke out."

  “They were letting you shout,” Ning corrected. “Big difference.”

  Xin Fu frowned, the anger faltering as confusion crept in.

  “Think about it,” Ning continued. “Every time someone questions me, who gets scolded? You. Who looks like a sore loser? You. Who becomes the example the elders warn others about?”

  Silence.

  Ning didn’t rush it.

  “…Me,” Xin Fu said quietly.

  “They lose nothing,” Ning said. “But you lose reputation, composure, and focus. You become the loud one. The ‘problem.’ Meanwhile, they stay clean, prepared for the tests."

  Xin Fu’s fists loosened, his face gaining a semblance of heat.

  “I…” He swallowed. “I thought… if I spoke up, ”

  “You’d be defending fairness?” Ning finished. “That’s what they wanted you to believe.”

  Xin Fu stared at the ground, but his clenched hand said everything.

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

  Then Xin Fu let out a breath, long and shaky. “So what? You want me to apologize to you now?”

  Ning shook his head. “No. I just want you to regain your composure. If you can get 4th place or higher in the next test, you still have the chance to qualify for the certificate."

  Xin Fu was silent again. Then, slowly, he straightened his back.

  “…You didn’t have to tell me this,” he said.

  “No,” Ning agreed. “But it costs me nothing.”

  Xin Fu hesitated, then gave a stiff nod. “I won’t forget this.”

  “That’s up to you,” Ning replied. “Just don’t forget the test.”

  At that moment, another name was called from the testing room.

  “Ji Ning. Enter."

  Ning blinked. “It seems my turn has come. Bye.”

  He waved casually and walked away, unconcerned with the gaze lingering on his back.

  The reason Ning had helped Xin Fu was simple: it was better to resolve a grudge than to create one.

  If he hadn’t reminded Xin Fu, the man would likely have failed the final test. That failure could easily turn into deep resentment, and that was far from ideal.

  Even if Xin Fu wasn’t particularly sharp, his cultivation was solid. Letting such a person spiral into hostility would be foolish.

  Moreover, the entire conflict was trivial and easily resolved. Ning had never actually been harmed, only targeted. And with his attention redirected, the true manipulators would likely end up bearing Xin Fu’s anger instead. That was one more potential problem neatly dealt with.

  In short, Ning had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

  Too many people in stories and novels lost everything over pride and silence.

  In Ning’s experience, half of all conflicts could be solved if people simply talked. And yet, time and time again, characters refused to explain themselves, stormed off, leaving misunderstandings behind. Romance novels and manga were especially guilty of this.

  Alas, proper communication was a severely underrated art.

  ...

  Ning stepped into the room, and before he could even take a second look around, the elder spoke.

  “Identify the diseases affecting these plants.”

  There was no preamble, no explanation, and with a casual flick of his sleeve, nine potted spiritual plants were placed before Ning in a neat line, three low-grade first-tier plants, three mid-grade, and three high-grade.

  Ning’s gaze swept over them, calm on the surface, but panicking inside.

  Truth be told, this test wasn’t his strongest area.

  Most of his reading had focused on cultivation methods, how to plant, how to nourish, and how to optimize growth. Knowledge about pests and diseases was a different matter entirely. That kind of expertise usually belonged to master-disciple lineages, passed down privately alongside secret formulas and closely guarded techniques.

  The books in the Spiritual Plant Hall rarely touched on treatment methods. And for good reason.

  Curing plant diseases was where the real money was.

  If a spiritual field fell ill, the damage wasn’t limited to a single stalk; it could spread across an entire region. When that happened, farmers had no choice but to seek out a master of spiritual plants, often at a cost that made one’s heart bleed. Refuse, and the loss would be total.

  If cultivating spirit plants was a way to survive, then treating their ailments was a way to grow rich.

  The sect understood this perfectly. It had little interest in being overly kind to low- and mid-level growers. Occasional, painful losses helped maintain balance and reminded everyone where they stood.

  That was why this third trial existed.

  It wasn’t a test of diligence or memorization. It was a test of judgment, insight, and potential.

  Whether one would remain an ordinary spirit farmer or rise to become a true master, someone others relied upon, depended on moments like this.

  Ning exhaled quietly and stepped forward.

  He examined the plants one by one.

  Most of the issues lie hidden beneath the soil. He gently loosened the earth around the roots, eyes narrowing as he inspected them. Some roots bore clear bite marks, tiny but unmistakable. Others were soft, discolored, showing early signs of rot, though the cause wasn’t immediately obvious.

  The problems aboveground were no simpler.

  One plant’s leaves were speckled with reddish-yellow spots, like rust eating its way inward. Another had withered almost entirely, its vitality leaking away. A third hosted insects so small they were nearly invisible, hiding along the veins of the leaves like living dust.

  Many of these conditions would normally require a specialist’s guidance to diagnose properly.

  But Ning didn’t panic.

  Relying on experience and careful observation, he began writing down diagnostic notes for each plant. Where he could, he administered treatment directly. Where he couldn’t address the root cause, he focused on stabilizing the condition, slowing the damage, preserving vitality, and buying time.

  Time passed quietly.

  The room remained still, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the soft scrape of Ning’s brush against parchment.

  Strangely enough, the test was… straightforward.

  After the previous trials, Ning had half-expected some hidden twist, perhaps needing to sense the disease through spiritual perception or identify something deliberately obscured.

  Given the elder’s temperament, such theatrics wouldn’t have been surprising.

  But then again, perhaps not springing a surprise was the real surprise.

  Ning pushed the thought aside and focused fully. He worked carefully, methodically, refusing to rush. Even if he couldn’t cure everything, his explanations were clear, logical, and grounded in reason.

  When the allotted time ended, the elder glanced over Ning’s work. He gave a small nod.

  “The results will be announced shortly,” he said. “You may leave.”

  Ning bowed politely and stepped out.

  ...

  Waiting was always the worst part.

  Ning wasn’t particularly confident about the third test. He had done the best he could, but experience was a limiting factor. He had only been cultivating and planting for a relatively short time, and compared to the other participants, he had encountered far fewer plant ailments.

  Fortunately, his performance in the first two tests had been outstanding. That should be enough to carry him through.

  His thoughts moved quickly as he practiced his spiritual control exercises, carefully coating a thread of Qi until it grew thinner and thinner. Distracting oneself was one of the best ways to make time pass.

  About three hours later, the third test concluded.

  “Now, I will announce the candidates who will receive the spiritual plant certificate. When your name is called, come forward.”

  The elder’s voice echoed through the hall.

  Everyone held their breath. Ning listened calmly; at this point, everything depended on fate.

  “Ni Lunxia, Ji Ning, Fang Tian, Cu Xia, and Fei Shin. You have passed the tests. Congratulations.”

  The hall erupted into noise.

  Ning, however, simply let out a quiet breath and smiled.

  At last.

  The spiritual plant certificate was his.

  ...

  Thanks for reading~