The door was unlocked this time.

Wang Ze’s face lit up when he saw Jiang Chen approach. “You’re in luck! My alchemist friend just finished a fresh batch today. Since we’re early, we’ll get first pick.”

Jiang Chen nodded politely. “I’ll follow your lead, Senior Brother.”

Wang Ze didn’t waste a moment. He waved his hand, summoning his personal transport—the [Camouflage Wood Butterfly].

“Hop on,” Wang Ze urged. “We’re heading straight to the [Alchemy Hall].”

Jiang Chen stowed his [Giant Leaf] and leaped onto the construct’s back. He expected the texture of insect wings, but his boots met the unyielding surface of enchanted timber.

With a mental command from Wang Ze, the wooden wings began to beat. The sheer force kicked up a gale, flattening the surrounding weeds and sending gravel skittering across the courtyard. A moment later, they were airborne, climbing rapidly toward the high sky.

Standing atop the construct, Jiang Chen couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship.

It was an envious piece of kit. Against the backdrop of the forest, the wood shifted colors to blend perfectly with the foliage. Against the open sky and sunlight, the chassis—and its riders—became semi-transparent. It was the ultimate tool for both escape and surveillance.

“The [Alchemy Hall] sits on the southern edge of our Spirit Farm territories,” Wang Ze shouted over the wind. “There’s a rare vein of Earth Fire there. They say it purifies the pills, burning away more impurities than standard flame.”

He took the opportunity to lecture Jiang Chen on the hierarchy of their destination.

“Inside the Hall, alchemists are ranked in five tiers: Fire Spirit Root Apprentice, Junior Alchemist, Senior Alchemist, Top Alchemist, and the Grandmaster Pill Dao Grandmaster.”

Wang Ze puffed out his chest slightly. “My friend, Chu Xiu, is a Junior Alchemist.”

Jiang Chen immediately offered the expected flattery. “To be friends with such a figure… Senior Brother Wang’s connections are truly extraordinary.”

The compliment landed perfectly. Wang Ze grinned. “You have a sharp eye, Junior Brother. A Junior Alchemist is qualified to attempt refining the Foundation Pill. Chu Xiu has even succeeded in the past.”

Wang Ze had originally planned to introduce this connection to help Jiang Chen eventually buy a Foundation Pill for his breakthrough. He hadn’t expected his unassuming Junior Brother to achieve Foundation Establishment silently, without using any pills at all.

Such a feat was one in ten thousand.

However, even if Jiang Chen didn’t need the breakthrough pill, he still needed maintenance resources. Cultivators in the Foundation Establishment realm required pills to accelerate their absorption of Spirit Qi.

As they flew south, the conversation flowed, but the air grew stifling.

The temperature spiked. An invisible heatwave rolled over them, distorting the horizon. The lush vegetation below gave way to parched earth, and the riverbeds were bone dry.

“We’re over the Earth Fire zone,” Wang Ze announced.

Jiang Chen looked down. A sprawl of buildings clustered around a massive depression in the earth. At the center stood a three-story structure—the [Pill Tower].

The area was teeming with people, far more than Jiang Chen had anticipated, mostly apprentices bustling about with raw materials.

“Our spirit herbs are sent here,” Wang Ze explained, pointing downward. ” The Fire Spirit Root Apprentices process them.”

“Do the alchemists live in the tower?” Jiang Chen asked.

Wang Ze shook his head. “The [Pill Tower] is a vault for rare formulas and high-grade inventory. Only Senior Alchemists and above can enter. Everyone else, from apprentices to Juniors like Chu Xiu, has to build their own workshops.”

The [Camouflage Wood Butterfly] began its descent, landing softly in front of a modest two-story cottage.

Wang Ze hopped off and called out, “Fellow Daoist Chu!”

A moment later, the wooden door creaked open. A head popped out, sporting dark circles under the eyes that rivaled a panda’s.

“Ah, Fellow Daoist Wang,” the man grunted.

Jiang Chen observed from the rear.

The alchemist looked to be in his thirties or forties. He was of average height and build, but his hygiene left much to be desired. His hair was a chaotic, bird-nest tangle, and he reeked of that distinct, scorched-herbal scent that clung to all pill refiners.

Wang Ze gestured to Jiang Chen. “Fellow Daoist Chu, let me introduce a Junior Brother I value highly. This is Jiang Chen, a skilled Spirit Farmer.”

Jiang Chen stepped forward, clasping his hands in a formal bow. “Grandmaster Chu!”

Chu Xiu paused, looking Jiang Chen up and down. His first impression was dismissive—just a young man in his twenties, nothing special.

But the title “Grandmaster” scratched an itch in his ego.

“Heh.” Chu Xiu’s expression softened.

“Junior Brother Jiang,” Wang Ze continued, beaming. “Fellow Daoist Chu is a Cultivator with the cauldron. If you need pills in the future, come directly to him.”

Chu Xiu curled his lip in a haughty sneer. “You can come, but if I’m refining, don’t blame me if I throw you out. I hate interruptions.”

“Of course, of course,” Wang Ze nodded rapidly.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Chu Xiu muttered, opening the door wider.

Jiang Chen and Wang Ze exchanged a look before following him inside.

The interior was an assault on the senses. “Clutter” was an understatement. The living area was a maze of dried herbs, slag, and failed experiments. The smell was complex and acrid, stinging the nose.

“So,” Wang Ze asked eagerly, “what did you refine this time?”

Chu Xiu didn’t answer immediately. He disappeared into the adjacent workroom and returned with two trays. One held yellow pills, the other green.

“Demand for Vitality Pills and Foundation Spirit Pills has skyrocketed lately,” Chu Xiu said, setting the trays down. “That’s where the money is.”

Hearing the name, Jiang Chen stepped closer to inspect the yellow Vitality Pills.

Credit where it was due—the craftsmanship was solid. The pills were uniform in size and color, with no visible defects.

Seeing Jiang Chen’s scrutiny, Chu Xiu puffed up. “Top-quality Vitality Pills. I bet you’ve never seen purity like this before.”

Wang Ze, meanwhile, was examining the green pills. “As expected of you, Chu. Your technique is flawless. What’s the price on these Foundation Spirit Pills?”

Chu Xiu shrugged, feigning indifference. “I sell them to outsiders for fifty Low-grade Spirit Stones. But since we’re old friends, I’ll knock off five stones. Forty-five.”

Wang Ze’s eyes lit up. “Forty-five? That’s a steal!”

Jiang Chen kept his face neutral and pointed to the yellow tray. “And the price for a Vitality Pill?”

Chu Xiu glanced at him lazily. “Since Wang introduced you, I’ll give you the friend price. Five Low-grade Spirit Stones each.”

Jiang Chen paused.

If his memory served him right, in the Loose Cultivator Market, Vitality Pills of this exact quality sold for three stones.

Even the premium branded ones from the Lei Clan only cost four.

They were all members of the same sect. He had been introduced by a close friend.

And yet, this “friend” was sharpening his knife to slaughter the sheep.