Shen Peng selected a celadon teapot and a pair of delicate pine-grain cups. With practiced grace, he used a bamboo scoop to measure out precisely seven leaves and one bud of the [Orchid Mist Tea] from the green wooden box.

“Seven leaves, one bud,” Shen Peng murmured, almost to himself. “Too little, the flavor is thin. Too much, it becomes cloying.”

He placed the leaves into the pot and poured in hot water heated to exactly eighty degrees. But he let it steep for only three seconds before swiftly pouring it out.

“To awaken the leaves,” he explained, pouring fresh hot water in for the second infusion.

Once brewed, Shen Peng poured the first steep into a waste vessel. Then, standing up as a mark of respect, he held the pot with one hand and supported the lid with the other, pouring the amber liquid into the cup before Jiang Chen. Only then did he serve himself.

Jiang Chen observed the tea. Although the dried leaves were ink-black, the liquid itself was a vibrant, bluish-rosy hue. Wisps of Spirit Qi rose from the surface, creating a miniature, swirling mist above the cup.

He lifted the cup, bringing it to his nose.

One sniff, a clear fragrance. Two sniffs, the elegance of orchids. Three sniffs, a lingering sweetness.

Jiang Chen took a sip, letting the liquid wash over his tongue. At first, it was tart, almost astringent, with a numbing sensation on the tip of the tongue. But moments later, a rush of honeyed sweetness flooded his mouth, followed by a surge of Spirit Qi that tumbled into his abdomen, warming his entire body.

“Good tea,” Jiang Chen praised, setting the cup down.

Shen Peng visibly relaxed. “If Fellow Daoist Cai likes it, please take a jin with you when you leave.”

They sat there for a while, sipping tea and chatting about trivial matters, enjoying the rare leisure. Usually, their meetings were strictly business, but today felt different.

“When is this place opening?”

“I really want to taste the Shen family’s wine!”

Voices drifted up from the street below. Jiang Chen glanced out the window and chuckled. “Your family’s reputation is doing the heavy lifting.”

Shen Peng grinned sheepishly. “To be honest, half those people down there are shills we hired. We’ve been hyping this up for days. Now, we’re just waiting for your product to hit the shelves.”

Jiang Chen nodded. He had suspected as much. No shop attracted that kind of crowd without even opening its doors unless there was some manufactured buzz.

Without further delay, he produced his small storage bag. With a wave of his hand, five hundred jin of [Top-quality Spirit Rice] and five hundred jin of high-quality [Spirit Wine] appeared on the floor of the private room.

Looking at the stockpile, Jiang Chen felt a pang of reluctance. These were premium cultivation resources, items that could accelerate his own progress. Selling them to loose cultivators felt like a waste, but he needed the capital.

Shen Peng handed over five [Mid-grade Spirit Stones].

Jiang Chen accepted them without comment. The market rate for Tier-2 Top-quality Spirit Rice was roughly 1:1.2, meaning his shipment was worth about 4.2 Mid-grade stones. Shen Peng paying five was a generous premium, a gesture of goodwill and a nod to their long-term partnership.

As for the wine, no money changed hands yet. Their agreement was a revenue split: 60/40 in Jiang Chen’s favor for the first six months, then shifting to 70/30.

Transaction complete, they returned to their tea. They talked until the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

Jiang Chen finally bid his farewells, accepting the gift of tea leaves. He walked out of the “Awaiting Spring” teahouse, feeling the satisfying slosh of liquid in his stomach.

Time to relax, he thought, heading toward the [Fragrance Pavilion]. I’ve been working too hard.

As he walked, refining the lingering Spirit Qi from the tea, a commotion up ahead caught his attention.

“Another one! A five-hundred-year-old [Earth Dragon]!”

The shout acted like a magnet. The crowd around him surged, abandoning their shopping and haggling to rush toward the source of the noise. Their faces were a mix of excitement and morbid curiosity.

Jiang Chen hesitated, then shrugged and followed the flow. As long as I don’t leave the city, it should be fine.

He arrived at a large public square, but before he could see anything, he smelled it.

A stench like rotten eggs struck by lightning hung heavy in the air, radiating outward in nauseating waves. Several mortals were already retching on the sidelines, and even the cultivators looked green. Yet, no one left. They all craned their necks, desperate for a glimpse.

Seeing the wall of backs, Jiang Chen channeled Qi into his legs and leaped, landing lightly on the roof of a nearby building. He wasn’t alone; dozens of other cultivators had taken the high ground for a better view.

In the center of the square stood a dozen grim-faced cultivators. Their mismatched armor bore a common emblem: a tiger descending a mountain.

The [Descending Tiger] team. The second-ranked demon-hunting squad in Green City.

Behind them lay their prize.

A yellowish-brown [Earth Dragon], at least thirty meters long, sprawled across the stones. Even in death, the beast exuded a suffocating, baleful aura that made the air feel heavy.

It was a mess of gore. Its head was shattered, the left eye socket a ruin of leaking yellow fluid. Its lower jaw had been torn open, leaving it with a grotesque, twisted grin filled with jagged teeth. The body was scorched black at the seven-inch mark—likely a lightning talisman strike—and the thick hide was split in multiple places, revealing necrotic blue-purple flesh.

It didn’t bleed red. Instead, a thick, ochre sludge pooled around the carcass.

“So this is an Earth Dragon,” Jiang Chen murmured, his pupils contracting. It was his first time seeing a true demon up close, and the difference between it and a spirit beast was palpable. This thing felt… wrong. Malicious.

“That’s the third one in six months,” a man on a neighboring roof remarked.

A female cultivator beside him nodded, her expression grave. “It came from Huang Yuanhua’s cave dwelling. They still haven’t cleared it out completely. It seems there are even more terrifying things hidden in the depths…”