Up to this point, Huang Mingnian still clung to his fa?ade.


    In his mind, he’d never shown Han any hostility—sure, his good-for-nothing brother had crossed him, but Mingnian? He’d always kept things smooth.


    Even if he’d secretly ordered family members to take a shot at Han when the chance arose, well, they’d never pulled it off!


    If his Black Cloud Town kin had actually made a move, would Han still be giving him the time of day now?


    No way, right?


    So, Huang Mingnian figured his cover was still intact.


    Little did he know, Han had pegged him for what he was back at the Water Essence Festival.


    With a bird’s-eye view, nothing stayed hidden.


    Suddenly, someone barged in close, barking, “You’re that so-called Black Cloud Town genius?”


    Han glanced over—a short, wiry young guy.


    “Yeah, that’s me. What’s your deal?”


    “This is Tianyue City, not Black Cloud Town. Don’t get too full of yourself.”


    “…”


    Buddy, I don’t even know you. I’ve barely said two words here today—where’d you get ‘full of myself’ from?


    “Who’re you?”


    “Golden Dragon Dojo—Jin Shui.”


    “Never heard of you. No need to roll out the welcome mat—you can step off.”


    Han waved him away like swatting a fly.


    Yuan Fang cut in sharply, “Jin Shui, you looking to stir trouble right outside the Waning Moon Pavilion?”


    Jin Shui shot Han a glare and sneered, “Better hope I don’t catch you somewhere else, or I’ll show you what a real Tianyue City genius looks like.”


    Clown. Strutting around at Viscera Realm like that? Lucky this is the county capital, or you’d be toast.


    “No need to waste your breath on him,” Yuan Fang said.


    They brushed past the crowd and headed back to the Ghost God Division.


    On the way, Han asked, “What’s this Jin Shui guy’s deal? Why’s he got it out for me?”


    “That’s just how he is—arrogant and small-minded. Everyone in Tianyue City knows it,” Yuan Fang explained. “Coming from families like ours, some disciples can’t help but get a big head, looking down on everyone else.”


    “Jin Shui takes it to another level. Any small-town talent stepping into the capital gets a taste of his nonsense if he spots them.”


    “…”


    Han started questioning reality. “Isn’t that just begging for enemies?”


    “How’s a dimwit like that still kicking around the Golden Dragon Dojo?”


    “His grandpa was the old dojo master, and he’s apprenticed to the current one,” Yuan Fang said. “Around here, that kind of behavior doesn’t touch his—or the dojo’s—standing.”


    A Tianyue heavyweight backed by the True Extreme Sect? Bullying small-fry geniuses was peanuts. Their clout could smooth over any mess.


    Han went quiet, then sighed, “The world’s wild—never a dull moment.”


    He’d been to the capital plenty—met chill folks like Yuan Fang, schemers like Huang Mingnian, spoiled brats like Huang Mingri, and now this nose-in-the-air Jin Shui.


    Proof positive of life’s variety—there’s no type you can’t imagine that doesn’t exist out there.


    The real world’s always got someone ready to sink lower than you’d ever guess.


    Back at the Ghost God Division, Han filled Lu Qingmo and Bai Ruoyue in.


    “Five days? Not bad,” Lu Qingmo said.


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    A few days’ wait? They could handle that.


    “Perfect timing, actually—the county division’s got some stuff going on. I can help Elder Ye out,” she added.


    Han perked up. “What’s up?”


    “Evil cultivators and rogue practitioners are popping up all over Tianyue County,” Lu Qingmo said, shaking her head. “Not just the big-name evil sects—smaller groups and lone wolves caught wind of things here and want to stir the pot.”


    “They’re not after the Mountain God, but them running wild across the counties is causing a real headache. The division’s swamped dealing with it.”


    Han let out a breath. “One domino falls, and the whole table shakes, huh?”


    Black Cloud’s mess had rippled way beyond just one town.


    Over the next few days, Han focused on his training, occasionally hitting the town with Bai Ruoyue.


    Tianyue City wasn’t just one Ten Thousand Stars Guild or one Waning Moon Pavilion—those were the top dogs in their fields, but smaller guilds and pill houses had their niches too.


    So, Han scooped up more herb seeds along the way.


    On the third day, he swung by the Waning Moon Pavilion again. Mu Dongshan was still refining, so he chatted with Mu Wan.


    Raised by Mu Dongshan and schooled in herb lore from a young age, she’d grown into a solid alchemist.


    Noticing Han’s curiosity about the craft, she asked, “You thinking of picking up alchemy?”


    “Someone close to me’s learning it—I’ve caught the bug just being around it,” he said.


    “You’re a cultivator too—you could give it a shot. If you pull it off, it’d do you good,” Mu Wan said. “Start with the basics: herb knowledge.”


    “Then you need a technique to summon flames. Some fancy alchemy lineages even have special pill-fire techniques—those flames beat regular ones for refining.”


    With a flick of her hands, orange flames flared from her palm.


    “This is our family’s pill fire—Grandpa calls it Waning Moon Flame.”


    It wasn’t some big secret—anyone in Tianyue City who knew the pavilion had heard of it. Plenty coveted it too.


    But her pill fire—and the flames from most techniques—weren’t like Han’s Earth Fire Seal flames.


    Pill fires and standard technique flames? Rootless, sourceless—temporary flickers with no core. You conjure them up when needed, and they vanish when you’re done, fueled by your own power.


    Those can’t devour or refine the world’s exotic flames.


    Han’s Earth Fire, though? Born from a technique, sure, but it had a true flame source. Once ignited, it burned on its own in his soul, whether he used the seal or not.


    Even Yin God cultivators’ divine fires winked out when unneeded—nothing like his.


    That was the Earth Fire Seal’s edge: a peerless technique birthing a flame equal to the world’s wonders, right from a human body.


    Think big—it’s like turning your body into a miniature cosmos, spawning an exotic flame from scratch.


    Master the technique to immortality, and even the starting Earth Fire could evolve into immortal flame without swallowing a single outside spark.


    Split it off, and it’d stand as a true exotic flame, blazing eternally in the world.


    Han eyed the Waning Moon Flame for a moment and nodded. “Pretty cool—low on raw power, but it’s got a subtle charm.”


    “Exactly—it’s not for fighting, just refining,” Mu Wan said, a touch proud. “With pill fire, extracting herb essence or shaping pills gets a big boost.”


    “It’s a technique our ancestors cooked up just for alchemy.”


    Han thought it over. The Three Yin legacy had a pill-fire method too.


    Not much use to him or An Lang, though—he’d just split off a wisp of Earth Fire for her later.


    “Flames are huge in alchemy,” Mu Wan went on. “Regular technique flames are meh—decent at best. The real gold’s in the wild, natural exotic flames out there.”


    Her eyes sparkled with longing. “Some can amp up your strength and make top-tier pills. Shame they’re so rare—Grandpa doesn’t even have one.”


    Funny thing—I’ve got a bunch.


    “Solid herb know-how, a flame technique, plus herbs and a cauldron—that’s your alchemy starter pack,” she said. “How far you go after that? Depends on your knack and the lineage you’re working with.”


    Got the lineage covered.


    As for knack? Han was betting big on An Lang.


    She’s got it—or she’d better!


    “If you’re serious about learning, find a teacher,” Mu Wan advised. “No guide, and it’s brutal—tons of herbs burned through just to get the hang of it.”


    “Unlike forging, though, finding an alchemy mentor’s no cakewalk.”


    The Thousand Soldiers Forge took heaps of apprentices—smithing’s just muscle and sweat; anyone fit could swing a hammer.


    Alchemy? You had to be a cultivator first—step one tripped up most folks. Even then, doors didn’t just open. No showing up at the Waning Moon Pavilion like it’s the forge, begging to sweep floors.


    Alchemy lineages stuck tight—master and disciple, blood-close.


    Han figured An Lang could grind it out solo.


    Basic pills used common herbs—seeds were everywhere, dirt cheap. He’d ripen a mountain of them, enough to last her through a meltdown, and still not dent his stash. She’d have to get it eventually.


    Evening rolled in.


    Under Lu Qingmo’s cover, Han trained in secret martial arts. Suddenly, a surge of qi sparked inside him.


    It rushed to his head—steadying his mind, sharpening his will, cutting through hesitation to forge unyielding resolve.


    Deep in his chest, one of his six viscera—the gallbladder—glowed with vibrant green life.


    True qi poured in, then flooded back out, refined and stronger with each cycle.


    Breath from his gallbladder spread, coursing through his limbs and bones, bolstering his frame.


    In a flash, Han’s presence spiked—his aura sharper, his vibe subtly shifted.


    Lu Qingmo and Bai Ruoyue noticed, turning to look. After a quiet beat, Bai Ruoyue ventured, uncertain, “Little Junior Brother… did he just master another organ?”


    “Pretty obvious, yeah,” Lu Qingmo said.


    “Half a month for one organ? So, three months to hit Viscera Realm Minor Completion? That’s… eye-opening,” Bai Ruoyue muttered, her face scrunching with worry. Why am I so slow?


    A bit later, Han wrapped up, brimming with energy. His eyes gleamed, radiating a fierce, steady intensity.


    The gallbladder governed resolve—tied to spirit and will. Perfecting it reshaped a person deeply.


    Cultivation wasn’t just power—it overhauled your mind, your grit, your habits, your whole approach.


    High-level cultivators often seemed “extreme” to regular folks—doing stuff that looked flat-out nuts.


    Their hearts and wills had soared past what most could grasp.


    Han wasn’t there yet, but he was climbing steady.


    Half a month since mastering his stomach, and now another organ down.


    He was halfway to Viscera Realm Minor Completion.


    Next morning, Mu Wan showed up with good news.


    His pills were ready.


    The seeds? Sorted too.


    Time to roll!