The morning sun crested the horizon, its pale light piercing the cloud layer to wash over the mountain peaks.

On the Spirit Field Department’s practice grounds, a crowd of disciples stood along the periphery. They held their breath, focusing with single-minded intensity on the lone figure in the center of the field.

Mountain winds whipped at the youth’s robes, but his stance remained immovable. In his hand, a flying sword hummed and vibrated, the sound resonating like a swarm of hornets stirring at dawn.

The youth’s features were calm, almost scholarly, contrasting sharply with the weapon in his hand. He ran two fingers along the spine of the blade.

Instantly, the steel erupted with three inches of azure radiance.

Green Edge!

The blade snapped forward. The wooden target in front of him disintegrated.

Flowing Cloud!

The sword light swept horizontally in a blur. Three distinct targets were sliced through in a single heartbeat. The sound was crisp and clear—snick, snick, snick—before the top halves slid off, kicking up a cloud of dust as they hit the ground.

Piercing Rainbow!

Han Yu stepped forward, his body and blade merging into a streak of azure light. He slammed into the distant stone wall, blasting a crater the size of a man deep into the rock face.

Debris rained down. Before the shattered stones could even settle, Han Yu formed a seal with his left hand. The flying sword detached, shooting toward the wall like a viper.

Amidst the clattering of falling rock, Han Yu employed the “Plum-Breaking” technique—a method of supreme precision. The flying sword danced, carving the outlines of several new targets directly into the stone.

With a flick of his wrist, he recalled the blade.

Thud!

A Spirit-Stealing Rat suddenly dropped from the sky, landing heavily beside the pile of rubble. It was stone dead.

“Caw—!”

Two sharp cries pierced the air.

A large crow folded its wings and touched down on Han Yu’s right shoulder, its tail feathers brushing against the red tassel of his sword hilt.

The smaller crow, whether out of sheer joy or clumsy recklessness, dive-bombed directly toward Han Yu’s face. Han Yu didn’t flinch; he deftly caught the bird with the flat of his sword, popping it upward so it could flip and land on his left shoulder.

“Who is stirring up trouble?” Han Yu looked up, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Both the large and small crows projected denial into his mind. Following their gaze, Han Yu spotted a third crow hovering above. It fluttered high and low, hesitant and timid, clearly afraid to land and compete for his favor.

The Spirit-Stealing Rat must have been its offering to attract the master’s attention.

Having formed the Beast Heart Psychic Pact, Han Yu could easily distinguish between the individuals of his flock. This particular crow was unique—the only one among the twenty to awaken the Flame Technique rather than the standard Wind Blade.

“Caw!” The bird cried out anxiously.

“Come down,” Han Yu beckoned.

The fire-attribute crow slowly descended, landing tentatively in front of him. Han Yu reached out and flicked its head gently. The crow let out a soft, aggrieved croak.

“Go on, take your catch. I don’t eat rats.”

Realizing he wasn’t angry, the crow happily snatched up the carcass and took flight. The large and small crows on his shoulders spread their wings and followed suit.

The surrounding disciples, having witnessed both the terrifying precision of his sword art and his command over the spirit beasts, erupted into whispers.

“Did you see that sword intent?”

“And those crows… they listen to him perfectly.”

Senior Sister Li noted the gathering crowd and stepped forward, her voice sharp. “The Green Grain Spirit Rice harvest is imminent. Do you all have so much free time that you can ignore your fields?”

Chastised, the disciples began to scatter. One bold Outer Disciple paused to ask, “Senior Brother Han, which field did your spirit beast catch that rat in?”

Senior Sister Li’s gaze snapped to him. “What are you implying? The three of us in the Steward’s office manage thirty acres of spirit fields. Is it so strange that we caught a single rat?”

“No, no! Of course not! I was just asking!” The disciple shrank back, laughing awkwardly before fleeing the scene.

Once the area was clear, Han Yu chuckled. “It seems Spirit-Stealing Rats were considered pests before, but now they’ve become treasures.”

“Catching a few rats is hardly an achievement,” Senior Sister Li said dismissively, though her eyes lingered on the sky where the crows had vanished. “By the way, Little Eighteen. Tomorrow, after the harvest, we need to report to the Deacon’s Office on the main peak. Shall we go together to pay our respects to Master?”

“Ideally.” Han Yu nodded.

The following day, the Spirit Field Department was a hive of activity.

Han Yu, Senior Sister Li, and Hua Qi worked through the morning and well into the afternoon. By the time they finished, Han Yu and Li had each harvested over two hundred catties of Green Grain Spirit Rice.

They traveled to the main peak to hand over the quota and submit their reports.

Han Yu checked his status. Between his duties at the Spirit Field Department and his personal cultivation of the fields, his accumulated Minor Merits had reached seventy-five.

The last two months had been productive. He consumed three drops of Ancestral Tree Spirit Liquid daily, cultivated while clutching two pieces of Thousand-Year Sunkwood Heart, and supplemented with a Clear Heart Qi Gathering Pill every few days. His cultivation base was rising at a terrifying speed, dragging his hidden Blood Refining Technique along with it.

Additionally, he had been drilling the Yin Style Sword Art, the Beast Heart Psychic Pact, the Thousand Illusions Secret Art, and honing his control over the puppet Li Ya.

Between these pursuits, he hadn’t found the time to learn new spells or delve into artifact refining. Currently, his identity jade pendant held a balance of two Major Merits and seventy-five Minor Merits.

By the time they exited the Deacon’s Office, the sun was dipping below the western peaks.

Han Yu and Senior Sister Li arrived at Elder Lü’s courtyard to pay their respects. The Elder had just finished processing sect affairs and, hearing of their arrival, summoned them inside.

He inquired about their recent progress. When he learned that Han Yu had already mastered the Yin Style Sword Art, surprise flashed across his face, and he immediately requested a demonstration.

Han Yu obliged, moving through the forms with fluid lethality.

Elder Lü watched with keen eyes. When Han Yu finished, the Elder nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Disciple, your foundation is solid. Would you be interested in going elsewhere to gain some experience?”

Han Yu blinked, surprised. “Master, what place are you referring to?”

He hesitated slightly. “I’ve grown accustomed to the Spirit Field Department. I have no great desire to move.”

Senior Sister Li nodded in agreement. “Junior Brother Han is doing well where he is.”

“I will give you one Minor Merit,” Elder Lü said slowly, locking eyes with Han Yu. “Every single day.”

Han Yu and Senior Sister Li froze. “That much?”

One Minor Merit a day? That meant he could exchange for a basic spell every five days, or a high-tier spell every ten. It was equivalent to the rewards of a six-month guard duty mission, earned in mere weeks. It was an exorbitant salary.

“It is a high price, but the position is unique,” Elder Lü explained. “When the Sect established the Battle Hall, we went to great lengths to improve the disciples’ combat proficiency. We poured resources into it. Yet, ironically, the Battle Hall is now less lively than the practice grounds of the Spirit Field Department.”

The Elder sighed. “Genuine sparring matches are rare. The atmosphere is stagnant. It has deviated greatly from our original vision.”

He pointed a finger at Han Yu. “Disciple, you are proficient in techniques, tactically minded, and you have mastered the Green Wood Protection Technique. Among all Qi Condensation disciples in Wanchun Valley, there are few who can even scratch you.”

“I want you to go to the Battle Hall as an instructor. Stir up the waters. Make the disciples active again. It would be a waste of your talent to leave you hidden in the fields.”

Han Yu frowned slightly. “I am merely an Outer Disciple. How can I act as an instructor for others? They won’t listen.”

“If anyone is insubordinate—” Elder Lü’s voice turned hard. “You have the authority to expel them from the Battle Hall. You may forbid them from participating in tasks and confine them to ‘Closed Door Reflection’ until they learn their place.”

“If I go to the Battle Hall, must I teach daily? Every day? For how long?” Han Yu asked, weighing the costs.

“Two hours daily. I will not allow more,” Elder Lü replied firmly. “If it hinders your cultivation, I would rather you not go at all.”

“Furthermore, this salary of one Minor Merit daily is a special appointment. It will last for two months at most. Whether you succeed or fail, the terms will have to be adjusted afterward to prevent other disciples from crying unfairness.”

Han Yu did the mental math. Two hours a day was roughly the time he spent practicing his own techniques anyway. It wouldn’t disrupt his schedule.

“Master, do you believe this is feasible?”

Elder Lü nodded.

“Then I will follow your arrangement,” Han Yu said. “However, I feel that living at the Spirit Field Department and casually farming a few acres wouldn’t hinder my cultivation either—”

Elder Lü immediately raised his hand, his expression turning stern. “Absolutely not!”

“You will teach for two hours. Then you must rest. Then you must cultivate. The path of cultivation requires balance—tension and relaxation. If you add managing spirit fields to that, sooner or later you will be overwhelmed, and your mental state will fracture.”

“You may continue to live at the Spirit Field Department. You may even have the Battle Hall disciples come to you for instruction. But you are forbidden from farming, managing the department, or taking on any other tasks.”