Han Yu opened the door and froze.

Old Man Li’s gray robe was drenched in blood. His face was gaunt, his eyes sunken deep into their sockets, and he looked far more haggard than usual.

“Master Daoist, what happened to you?”

“I ran into some starving ghosts looking for a payday!” Li Quan snarled, his face twisted in fury. “I had just traded three Spirit-Stealing Rats for six jin of spirit rice when some bastards decided to try their luck and rob me!”

Han Yu was stunned. “Who would do such a thing? Other Laborer Disciples?”

“No. It was a Rogue Cultivator from the Green Grain Market—a man with no sect or backing—leading two martial artists. I must have caught their eye when I was buying game from the mortals earlier. They probably thought I was an easy target. Once they saw I had spirit rice, they moved to strike outside the market.”

The old man spat on the ground. “I knew the market wasn’t entirely safe, but I didn’t think I was poor enough to be mugged by beggars. Truly cursed luck!”

Muttering curses under his breath, Li Quan tossed a small cloth pouch to Han Yu. It contained four jin of spirit rice.

“Here. Two rats’ worth of rice.”

Han Yu set the pouch aside and looked at the old man. “How did you get away? What about the three of them?”

“Killed them!” Li Quan snapped, a murderous aura erupting from him.

“They didn’t expect that a veteran of the Jianghu like me would also have spells like the Blood Droplet and Bloodlust Technique. It took some effort to finish them, but I didn’t get a damn thing out of it besides some mortal gold and silver.”

Han Yu realized that a Rogue Cultivator desperate enough to kill for a few pounds of rice was likely as destitute as one could be.

“Did you at least find a manual for his cultivation method?”

“Nothing,” Li Quan said. “We receive our heart methods through the sect’s Jade Slips, so we don’t carry them around. A Rogue Cultivator would treat his manual like a family heirloom; he’d have it hidden somewhere deep.”

The old man clicked his tongue, a strange, hungry look in his eyes. “A waste. If we weren’t so close to the Green Grain Market…”

Han Yu felt a chill run down his spine. Had the old man actually considered…

Li Quan seemed to realize he had said too much. Refining the blood of animals was one thing—it allowed him to maintain a semblance of a relationship with Han Yu. But once he started using human Blood Essence, their bond would be shattered forever.

He quickly changed the subject. “Did anyone come sniffing around the spirit fields today asking about the rats? If so, it’s almost certainly the thief who’s been breeding them.”

“I spent the day cultivating after I saw the fields were clear,” Han Yu replied. “I’m not sure if anyone came by.”

“You little brat! Now we’ll have a harder time figuring out who’s behind this!”

Li Quan growled, but he was clearly reaching his limit. He hurried back to his stone house to replenish his failing blood.

Once he was gone, Han Yu practiced his spells. He realized he hadn’t used his daily replication yet. Since he had already hit his Spirit Root’s limit for Qi, he decided to replicate some Blood Essence as a safety measure.

As he finished the replication, he sat in the silence of his room. The mind-clearing effects of the Mystic Heart Fruit were still active, allowing him to perceive things with terrifying clarity.

The replication power in his right hand had undoubtedly come from that burning stone he had found.

If his cultivation grew high enough, perhaps he could one day master that mysterious object, turning it into a tool he could control at will rather than a rigid, daily function.

He also noticed that as his cultivation increased, the “power” of the replication seemed to grow slightly as well. Before, the change was too subtle to see, but now it was obvious.

He began to weigh the value of his targets. Replicating something like the Wanchun Valley Keepsake Token was a waste; it cost too much “replication energy” and provided no benefit to his path. Spirit rice, Blood Essence, and Mystic Heart Fruits were far more efficient.

He marveled at his own insight. Before eating the fruit, he never would have analyzed his situation with such cold, calculated detail.

“The Mystic Heart Fruit is truly a treasure,” he mused.

Lost in the intoxicating feeling of progress, he continued to drill his spells until night fell. Suddenly, a rustling sound came from beneath his bed.

The two crows crawled out, their dark golden eyes shimmering with intelligence. Their feathers were slick and black as polished iron. More importantly, they were now radiating a faint trace of spiritual energy.

Han Yu beamed. “You’ve gained Qi?”

“Caw! Caw-caw!” the crows responded, nodding their heads vigorously.

“Good! I began my path through the Pseudo-Immortal Method of Blood Refining, and you two began by devouring Blood Essence. Now, you’ve finally transcended your mortal forms. You’ve kept up with me!”

He leaned in closer. “Now that you have spiritual energy, what’s changed? Are you stronger?”

The crows immediately puffed out their chests, spreading their wings and brandishing their talons in a proud “Look at us!” display.

Han Yu laughed. They acted like six-year-old children.

He reached out to touch their feathers and recoiled slightly. Previously, the blood-refining had made their feathers as tough as bamboo. Now, they felt like black iron. When he flicked his finger against their claws, it produced a sharp, metallic clang.

They were significantly more powerful. With these steel-like talons, they could protect themselves and find even more spirit fruits.

Han Yu tested them on some wood and stone. They tore through the thick wooden planks as if they were paper. They couldn’t break the stone yet, but their strikes sounded like hammers hitting an anvil.

“Go out and test yourselves,” Han Yu commanded. “See if you can catch any more rats in the fields.”

The crows took flight. A short while later, the large crow returned, a Spirit-Stealing Rat clutched in its claws. The small crow followed behind, covered in dirt and looking disgruntled, having failed to catch its prey.

Han Yu looked down at the dead rat in the large crow’s talons. His eyes narrowed as he saw the familiar circular pattern on its belly.

His face darkened.

Another raised rat. He didn’t know who the owner was, but this grudge was becoming a blood feud.