Under Wu Yuan’s manipulation, the luminescence of the Moon Spirit Grass intensified, turning blindingly bright.

The silvery radiance began to pool at the very tip of the plant, slowly coalescing into a dense, pitch-black sphere. As the sphere formed, the stalk of the Moon Spirit Grass withered, its essence completely drained.

Wu Yuan plucked the black sphere and gave it a gentle squeeze. The casing crumbled, revealing nine glistening seeds in his palm.

“Success!” Wu Yuan’s eyes lit up. “The seed condensation technique Boss Cat gave me is incredible.”

This was a method Wu Yuan had specifically begged for. Seeing that Wu Yuan’s recent tributes had been generous, the Cat King had tossed the technique to him as a casual reward.

Moon Spirit Grass was a staple resource in the cultivation world. It was the primary herb used to awaken the spiritual awareness of ordinary beasts and enhance their Demon Power. It was ubiquitous; wherever moonlight touched the earth, this grass could grow. In fact, most wild demons owed their awakening to accidentally consuming a stalk.

Because of its importance, every major faction cultivated it in massive quantities. However, a standard harvest typically yielded only two or three seeds per plant.

Even the great sects, using secret agricultural arts, could only push that number to six or seven.

Yet, the method the Cat King had handed over like trash produced nine seeds.

Wu Yuan had no concept of just how precious this technique was. He simply waved Little Huang over.

“Here. Plant these immediately,” Wu Yuan ordered, dropping the seeds into his subordinate’s paws. “When they mature, you get the first bite.”

Little Huang’s ears perked up. He wiggled his bottom in excitement, carefully cradling the seeds before scurrying off to the fields.

Seeing this, Big Old Black shamelessly sidled up, a fawning grin on his face. “Boss! I can serve you too! I’m ready to toil!”

Wu Yuan shot him a cold glance and delivered a swift kick that sent the large rat tumbling.

“You? Just focus on expanding the population! If you breed enough efficient workers, I’ll save a stalk for you too.”

Big Old Black’s expression twisted into a strange mix of pain and ecstasy. He scrambled up, nodded vigorously, and dove back into the tunnels to return to his nest.

Wu Yuan turned to Gray Skin. “We need fertilizer. Capture more Earth Spirit Worms. But hunting them one by one is too slow—see if you can farm them.”

Gray Skin scratched his head, looking troubled. “Boss, catching them is easy, but farming? I’ve never done it. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Wu Yuan paused. Asking a rat to invent animal husbandry from scratch was indeed a tall order.

“Observe their natural habitat,” Wu Yuan instructed patiently. “Find out what they like. Look for patterns. If that fails, just corral them into a pit so they’re easier to harvest when we need them. I’ll have Little Huang help you; his luck might yield a solution.”

“Little Huang!” Wu Yuan shouted toward the fields. “Did you hear that?”

In the distance, Little Huang didn’t look up from his digging. He simply raised his plump, furry butt and gave it a rhythmic wiggle to signal acknowledgement.

Wu Yuan watched him, lost in thought. He had high hopes for that rat.

Soon. With my resources, Little Huang will Awaken his bloodline.

I wonder if force-feeding him Moon Spirit Grass will replicate the effects of that Owl Egg I ate? I need to keep an eye out for more treasures.

A strange thought crossed Wu Yuan’s mind. This guy has incredible luck, and I’m just handing him power-ups. Is he the protagonist? Does that make me the mysterious ‘Grandpa’ in his ring?

Six months passed in the blink of an eye.

Underground, life flourished. Wu Yuan spent his days immersed in cultivation, his strength swelling to 23 strands of Demon Power.

He rarely left the cave, venturing out only to hunt Demon Beasts as tribute for the Cat King.

This was non-negotiable. The Cat King was his “Golden Thigh”—his wealthy patron. Wu Yuan had to handle the tributes personally to ensure the Cat King felt the warmth of his loyalty, making him feel right at home.

Wu Yuan stood up from his meditation, his joints popping like firecrackers.

Having absorbed the essence of the Spirit Copper continuously, his physique had undergone a terrifying transformation. He now stood nearly a meter tall on his hind legs. In the dim light of the tunnels, his silhouette was imposing, a hulking figure of muscle and fur.

He looked out over his domain.

Before him lay a lush, subterranean plantation of Snake Tooth Rice and Moon Spirit Grass. The air was thick with the scent of magical herbs.

Armies of rats scurried through the fields. Some loosened the soil, others hunted pests. A specialized team carried buckets of fertilizer derived from the Earth Spirit Worms, carefully sprinkling it around the roots of the spirit plants.

In this dark, damp cavern, a scene of vibrant vitality and thriving civilization had taken root.

A surge of pride swelled in Wu Yuan’s chest. This… is this King’s empire!

Thanks to Little Huang’s tireless efforts, the Moon Spirit Grass harvest was now stable enough to sustain Wu Yuan’s daily cultivation. The Snake Tooth Rice had sprouted successfully; in another six months, they would feast. Then, the rat colony could expand exponentially.

Suddenly, a notification flashed in his vision.

A distinct cyan glow.

Wu Yuan instinctively scanned his surroundings. Nothing. Then he realized—it was the System.

New Intelligence.

Wu Yuan’s pupils constricted. His heart hammered against his ribs. He licked his dry lips and focused on the text.

[Cyan Intelligence: In one month, a celestial anomaly will occur. The Emperor’s Flow Essence (Di Liu Jiang) will descend. However, a Great Demon Beast will emerge to harvest all essence-born creatures.]

Wu Yuan froze.

This was the first time the System had explicitly warned of a “Crisis” inextricably linked with a “Fated Chance.”

The Emperor’s Flow Essence… liquid moonlight, the holy grail for demons. But a Great Demon Beast? That meant a creature at the Foundation Establishment stage.

The gap between Wu Yuan and a Foundation Establishment beast was like the difference between clouds and mud. If he ran into such a monster, there would be no fight. He would simply die.

How do I seize the opportunity without getting slaughtered?

Do I give up? Do I ignore the Emperor’s Flow Essence entirely?

Wu Yuan paced back and forth, his mind racing.

He thought for a long time, weighing every option. Finally, he stopped. There was only one entity he knew capable of contending with a Foundation Establishment monster.

The Cat King.

Cat King… I have to rely on you again.

Wu Yuan’s eyes narrowed in calculation. If I play this right, I can use this disaster to cement my relationship with him. I need to become indispensable.

He immediately went to work. He groomed his fur until it shone, ensuring he looked his absolute best. Then, he selected an exquisite wooden tray and piled it high with the finest stalks of the fresh harvest.

He made his way to the Cat King’s hill.

The orange tabby was lounging in a sunbeam, tail lazily flicking. Hearing footsteps, the tail stopped.

Wu Yuan approached with his head lowered, holding the tray high above his brow.

“Great King,” Wu Yuan said, his voice dripping with reverence. “My deepest gratitude for the seed condensation art you bestowed upon me. This is the first harvest of the Moon Spirit Grass. It is rich in Spiritual Qi. I pray you deign to taste it.”

The Cat King cracked one eye open. He yawned, stretched, and gave a slight nod. His demeanor was noticeably gentler than before.

He enjoyed Wu Yuan’s speech pattern—a mix of classical literary flair and rustic vernacular. It reminded the Cat King of the old days, of human scholars and courts.

Moreover, hearing a rat speak like a courtier gave the Cat King a spontaneous sense of superiority. He reveled in that feeling of being high above the masses.

Did Wu Yuan find this servile behavior humiliating?

Hardly, Wu Yuan thought, watching the cat’s reaction. Why would you despise the golden saliva a Buddha spits on your face?

I am a rat. What use is dignity? Survival is the only truth.

The Cat King extended a claw, hooked a few stalks of Moon Spirit Grass, and tossed them into his mouth. He chewed slowly.

Crunch. Crunch.

A loud, rumbling purr erupted from the cat’s chest.

“Not bad,” the Cat King praised, his eyes narrowing in pleasure. “The flavor is mellow and rich. Well grown.”

Wu Yuan watched closely. This is the first time he’s eaten so much in front of me. Does Moon Spirit Grass affect demons the way catnip affects normal cats?

That would explain why he had such a specialized farming technique lying around.

Seeing the Cat King in high spirits, Wu Yuan struck while the iron was hot.

“Great King,” Wu Yuan said smoothly, “I would be honored if you would grace our humble plantation with an inspection. Your wisdom is boundless; surely you could offer us some guidance to improve the crop further?”

The Cat King lifted his head. He looked at the rat, amusement dancing in his slit pupils.

“Interesting.”

The Cat King stood up and stretched. “I have nothing to do today. Very well. Lead the way.”

Wu Yuan’s heart leaped with joy, though his face remained a mask of humble gratitude.