Han Yu listened to Elder Lü’s decree in silence before bowing his head.

“I will follow Master’s instructions,” Han Yu said calmly. “I will continue to reside at the Spirit Field Department and commute to the Battle Hall daily. For the time being, I will focus solely on these duties.”

Elder Lü nodded in approval. “Good. As for your training grounds, you may use the facilities within the main peak’s Battle Hall. It was originally the residence of Elder Zhao—it has sat vacant ever since he was ambushed by the Saint Blood Perfected One for secretly practicing the Blood Refining Technique.”

The Elder paused, his gaze drifting. “If that feels unlucky or inconvenient, you may also bring your students to the Spirit Field Department practice grounds.”

He then shifted his attention to Senior Sister Li, his expression growing serious. “Li Yunxia, this concerns you as well.”

“Currently, few disciples are being sent out on missions, leaving a surplus of manpower within the Sect. While the spirit fields under your department are fully allocated, there are many disciples clamoring for the opportunity to farm. Under these circumstances, as the Steward of the Spirit Field Department, you can no longer personally occupy the fields. You must release them to be distributed among the others.”

Senior Sister Li blinked, clearly taken aback. “The Sect has never concerned itself with such trivialities before. Why the sudden change?”

“Previously, the Sect’s priority was recovery,” Elder Lü explained. “We operated on the principle that ‘those with ability should bear more weight.’ But now, with external missions halted, many Outer Disciples are left idle. When they cannot find desirable tasks, resentment breeds, and they begin crying foul.”

“We must ensure fairness in our resource distribution. From this day forward, Steward Disciples and Laborer Disciples shall be distinct roles. Unless there are exceptional circumstances, one cannot hold positions in two places. We will not allow the powerful to hoard the tasks of the weak.”

Senior Sister Li’s shoulders slumped. The income from farming, combined with her steward salary, had been substantial. Losing the harvest revenue was a blow.

“Master,” she asked tentatively, “is this policy only for the Spirit Field Department?”

“It applies to everyone,” Elder Lü stated firmly. “The Medicine Garden, the Alchemy Department, and even the Battle Hall. In fact, those who cannot find suitable tasks will be conscripted into the Battle Hall for training. Once proficient, they will be forcibly dispatched on Sect missions.”

Elder Lü turned back to Han Yu, his eyes intense. “Disciple, do you now understand the weight of the hopes the Sect has placed upon you?”

Han Yu and Senior Sister Li exchanged a look of shock. The implication was clear: the Battle Hall wasn’t just a training ground anymore; it was a boot camp for deployment.

“Is the Sect planning to increase external missions?” Han Yu asked.

Elder Lü clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace slowly. “In recent months, the Nanli and Xiyue Kingdoms have stabilized. Regardless of the Spirit Beast Sect’s schemes, their current inactivity gives us a window. We must purge our mortal territories.”

“Rogue cultivators, blood slaves, and rampant demon beasts have plagued these kingdoms for too long. It is time to sweep them clean.”

He stopped pacing and looked out the window. “Furthermore, the disciples we dispatch will have a secondary objective: scouting for children with Spirit Roots. We do not know if the next Immortal Destiny Grand Ceremony can be held as planned. The situation in the Southern Region is treacherous. Wanchun Valley must prepare early to secure the next generation.”

“We must seize this fragile peace to temper our disciples. Whatever storms lie ahead, they must be strong enough to weather them.”

Han Yu and Senior Sister Li returned to the Spirit Field Department with heavy hearts.

The peace in the Southern Region felt like the calm before a hurricane. The Spirit Beast Sect and their allies had not abandoned their ambitions; they were merely waiting.

When Hua Qi heard the news that stewards were barred from farming, his face fell.

“If that’s the case,” Hua Qi grumbled, “my income as a steward might end up being lower than the Outer Disciples who farm full-time…”

“It will still be higher than the Laborer Disciples,” Senior Sister Li reasoned, trying to find the bright side. “Besides, farming is back-breaking work. And I suspect the Sect will adjust the steward salaries eventually. If they don’t, no one will want the job.”

Han Yu left them to their commiseration and retreated to his room. He felt a rare moment of aimlessness.

He had agreed to be an instructor, but he had no concrete plan on how to teach combat to a hall full of disgruntled disciples.

As he pondered, the rustling of wings interrupted his thoughts.

Flap. Flap. Thud.

A darkness descended upon the roof of the steward’s office as his flock of crows returned from their daily patrol.

Through the Beast Heart Psychic Pact, information flooded into Han Yu’s mind. Three key pieces of intelligence stood out.

First: Tomorrow was the ninth. The Small Gathering outside the Green Grain Market was convening. Cultivators were already staking out stall locations.

Second: At the entrance of the market, someone was aggressively buying “wood heart”—and specifically asking for “the older the vintage, the better.”

Third: One of the crows had finally awakened a spell.

Han Yu immediately summoned the bird into his room.

It was a sleek creature with intelligent eyes. Han Yu fed it a drop of his essence blood, circulating the Spirit Nurturing Technique to deepen their bond. Then, he took a drop of blood from the crow’s heart, guided it along the spirit pathways of the pact on his left arm, and pressed his blood-stained finger against the bird’s forehead.

The connection snapped into place.

This was his twenty-first spirit bird.

With this bond, Han Yu hit his limit. His current cultivation base could not sustain a twenty-second connection.

The Beast Heart Psychic Pact was already an anomaly. Most cultivators could barely support a single spirit beast—the drain on resources to feed and cultivate both man and beast was astronomical. To maintain a flock of twenty-one, and to have them all advancing? That was a feat of wealth that even the personal disciples of the Spirit Beast Sect Master would find unimaginable.

Han Yu stroked the new spirit bird’s feathers and turned his mind to the other news.

Buying wood heart. The older, the better.

It had to be the traveling merchant. The same one who had coveted the Thousand-Year Sunkwood Heart before. He had returned, likely hoping to lure the mysterious seller out again.

Should I report him to the Sect?

Han Yu considered it, then shook his head.

Reporting him would bring the Sect’s enforcement team, but it wouldn’t benefit Han Yu directly.

He needed resources.

His cultivation speed was already maximized, yet reaching the sixth layer of Qi Refining would still take a full year at this pace. Wanchun Valley lacked high-tier resources like Jade Spirit Berries or Qi Refining Spirit Boosting Pills.

If he wanted to shorten that year, he needed to look outside.

This traveling merchant was a smuggler of sorts. He would have goods that weren’t available in the clean, regulated stalls of the Sect. Spirit beast bags, formations, rare artifacts, talismans—anything was possible.

Han Yu made up his mind. He would send the puppet, Li Ya.

He retrieved the puppet from his storage bag. The lifeless body of the former Daoist Li stood silent in the room.

Han Yu began the loadout.

On the chest: A Foundation Establishment realm Geng Metal Talisman. On the back: A Foundation Establishment realm Thunder Lightning Talisman. Arms: Two Sharp Gold Talismans and Wind Blade Talismans each. Head: A Protection Talisman hidden behind the left ear. Legs: Flame Fire Talismans and more Protection Talismans.

It was a walking arsenal. These talismans were valuable, but they were expendable compared to his life. The puppet, however, was a different story.

Ideally, he wouldn’t lose the puppet. While the materials—flesh and bone—weren’t as precious as the Thousand-Year Sunkwood Heart, the complexity of the refining process meant the puppet was “heavy” in terms of replication energy.

To copy Li Ya would cost more energy than duplicating the Ancestral Tree Spirit Liquid.

Han Yu’s replication power was a finite currency. Every unit was meticulously calculated. He spent it on Spirit Liquid, Sunkwood Hearts, and Clear Heart Qi Gathering Pills to fuel the Green Grain Qi Cultivation Method. He spent it on essence blood for the Blood Refining Technique.

His energy account was always empty by the end of the cycle. He couldn’t afford to stop his cultivation for twenty days just to save up enough energy to photocopy a puppet.

If Li Ya was destroyed, it was gone.

But if the situation demanded it, Han Yu wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice the puppet to kill an enemy. Survival was paramount.

Han Yu draped a heavy black robe over the puppet, concealing the talismans and the unnatural pallor of its skin. A deep hood shadowed the face.

From the outside, it looked like just another rogue cultivator.

“That should be enough,” Han Yu whispered.

Tomorrow, the Hidden Dragon would go to market.