The monthly reset of Han’s cheat device was fast approaching. It wasn’t his first rodeo, but the nerves still hit him hard.


    No, scratch that—he still felt the thrill of his very first reset every time. Does the “first” of each month somehow stop being a first?


    Every cheat device so far had been a game-changer, their importance beyond question. Each one had turbocharged his growth, bending fate itself to pull off feats others deemed impossible—miracles in the eyes of the masses.


    Well, except for the Heaven and Earth Bank. That one didn’t quite deliver the Earth Tiger Armor or anything flashy. Still, it had its use—padding the count of past cheat devices for that sweet encore feature. Sure, it wasn’t useless back then; Han couldn’t blame it entirely. He’d just been a regular Joe at the time. If he’d crossed over into an immortal’s body, the Bank might’ve dropped immortal stones or cosmic credits right out of the gate—straight to the top.


    “Here’s hoping this reset spits out something that’ll rocket me to ascension,” Han muttered to himself. Not too much to ask, right? Totally reasonable.


    “You seem distracted,” Lu Qingmo noted, picking up on his restless vibe.


    “Month’s almost over,” Han sighed. “Just hits me how fast time flies. Been on this cultivation grind for a while now.”


    Lu Qingmo’s gaze turned odd. Five months, tops—that’s a while to you?


    “You’ve got a lot of feelings about it,” she said dryly.


    Han waved it off. “You’ll get it when you’re my age, Aunt Mo.”


    “…”


    She blinked, thrown. When I’m your age? Who’s older here? Was he suggesting she’d rewind to youth? Wait—was he calling her old?


    “By the way, Aunt Mo, today the Shenhua Sect…” Han shifted gears, recounting the day’s events.


    “Your take’s spot-on,” Lu Qingmo said, nodding at their earlier group decision. “More factions will roll in, and plenty will want to team up with you guys. Waiting it out’s smarter—someone’s bound to up the ante for a shot at the Mountain God’s favor. For regular talents, pairing with big outsider groups could actually pay off more.”


    Han got her drift. For folks like Shen Long—solid Black Cloud Town talents—the Mountain God’s blessings might net them a treasure or two. Valuable, sure, but if a faction matched Shenhua’s offer to Han—full resources to Marrow Cleansing—that’d outshine it. They weren’t town superstars; even if they scored divine loot, it wouldn’t be earth-shattering. Selling it probably wouldn’t fund a straight shot to Marrow Cleansing either. The Mountain God was mighty, but not every gift was a fortune—He wasn’t unloading His whole estate on His deathbed. He had descendants, allies. The Yun family would scoop up most of the haul. Special needs? God’s stuff wins. Otherwise? Teaming up elsewhere made more sense.


    “Speaking of, Tianlong Gate’s making moves too,” Lu Qingmo added.


    Han perked up. “Tianlong? What’re they up to?”


    “Poaching from Zuo Tianzheng,” she explained. “After that riverside duel, night showdown, and insight test, Zuo Tianzheng snagged some of Black Cloud’s sharper talents—not on your or Ruoyue’s level, but still standouts. He got here first, cherry-picked the best, but latecomers aren’t backing off. Tianlong’s been sweet-talking those recruits, dangling perks to ditch Zuo and join them.”


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    “Anyone bite?”


    “Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time,” Lu Qingmo said with a sly smile. “A slot at the Emperor’s Academy won’t hold hearts forever. Zuo was the top dog—the only game in town—back then. Now? Not so much. Equal offers might not sway them, but if someone triples the Academy’s value…”


    She didn’t finish, but Han caught the gist. People chase profit. Nothing’s unsellable—just a matter of price. Three words: Show me the money.


    Other Black Cloud factions had panicked, letting Zuo snag the early lead. If today’s chaos had hit back then, a vague “join the Academy” pitch wouldn’t have hooked anyone amidst the bidding war.


    “But if Zuo’s picks jump ship to other factions, won’t that burn bridges with him completely?” Han asked.


    “Tianlong doesn’t sweat offending an imperial envoy,” Lu Qingmo said. “And the ones coming to snag a piece of Black Cloud’s pie won’t either. If those talents bail, someone’ll shield them from the fallout.”


    Offending an envoy wasn’t the same as offing one, though. Unless you were a reckless rogue cultivator, even Tianlong wouldn’t dare touch Zuo outright.


    Han’s grin widened. “Hope the other factions turn up the heat on Lord Zuo. Sharing’s caring—why should he hog all the town’s talent?”


    Lu Qingmo shot him a look. “You’re the top prize they’re after, Mr. Number One.”


    Han got dead serious. “No dice. I’m yours, Aunt Mo—alive or dead, I’m clinging to your coattails.”


    Not just coattails—I’m aiming higher…


    “Quit the nonsense,” she said, brushing it off.


    After wrapping up the day’s Taoist training, with some time before midnight, Han dove into The Art of Awakening Spirits and Nurturing Divinity. Like most utility arts, it lacked a fixed rank—easy to pick up with decent talent. For Han? Piece of cake.


    The real grind was gathering the treasures and casting it repeatedly to spark that spirit—a slow burn, not a quick fix.


    In his soul realm, a wisp of soul split off, slipping into the One-Treasure Wonder Tree. No resistance—smooth as silk. Merging felt like coming home; he synced with the tree effortlessly, taking full control. None of the fusion woes the art warned about fazed him. That’s the perk of a natal artifact.


    Back in Tianming Sect’s heyday, Yin God cultivators used this art to nurture “divinities” in their natal gear—amping up spirit and strength. Before all the beast experiments, it was a Yin God exclusive, a prized gem. Their artifacts already had spirits, skipping the soul-merge step. It was a must-learn, giving Tianming’s venerables an edge over outsiders.


    It had limits, though. Higher-tier artifacts demanded rarer, top-shelf treasures for awakening and nurturing. Once the “divinity” hit a certain peak, the art tapered off. Han was nowhere near that ceiling.


    Post-merge, he pulled four treasures from his spatial ring—Dust of Spirituality, Spirit-Birthing Water, Soul Essence Liquid, and a Stone of Revelation—plus a jade bowl. He dusted the bowl’s base with the powdery Dust, added a drop each of Water and Liquid, and stirred with mental energy. Fifteen minutes later, he poured in Soul Essence Liquid to half-fill it, dropped in the Stone, waited another fifteen, topped it off with Spirit-Birthing Water, and sprinkled more Dust. Then, he summoned Yang Earthfire, simmering the mix without melting the bowl.


    The Mandate’s recipe wasn’t tough—just precise. Done right, it cooked up a batch of Spirit-Awakening Nurturing Liquid for the art. The brew bubbled, the Stone melting visibly. The murky liquid faded to crystal clarity—done.


    The One-Treasure Wonder Tree materialized, shrank, and dunked into the bowl. Han wasn’t worried about Lu Qingmo snooping—it was late, he was in his room, and she wasn’t some creep spying on him at night.


    Recalling the art, he chanted, formed seals, and traced runes in the air. Symbols branded the tree; the liquid rippled on its own, lending it a refined, spirited glow. His merged soul fragment sensed wisps of unique energy seeping in—not boosting the tree’s grade or power, but pooling around him under his guidance. More runes flared, etching onto his soul, drawing the energy in until it vanished—no more runes, no more juice. The batch was spent.


    Checking his soul, Han nodded. A shift, but not enough. This art was a marathon—multiple rounds, steady progress, no instant wins for beasts or artifacts. Luckily, the Mandate’s leftover treasures were plentiful—enough to awaken the One-Treasure Wonder Tree, no doubt.


    Time ticked by. He whipped up another batch and kept at it, relentless as ever. Cheat devices? Barely a blip in his rise. Talent and grit did the heavy lifting.


    After burning through another dose, it happened again—familiar text flashed before him.


    [Cheat Device Refresh Available. Initiating Reset]


    [Last Month’s Cheat Device: Creation Pot]


    [Resetting…]


    [Reset Complete]


    [This Month’s Cheat Device: Eternal Life Taoist Fruit (Non-Unique Cheat Device)]


    [Fate Points: 7]


    The seventh reset since crossing over lit up his vision!