Stepping onto the third floor was like entering a different world.

The noise and chaos of the lower levels vanished instantly, replaced by a hushed, sterile atmosphere. The floor plan was far more expansive than Jiang Chen had imagined, lined with row upon row of numbered doors—Room 301, Room 302, and so on.

He had assumed this would be the residential area, but it was clearly a dedicated workspace. The Water Spirit Root cultivators of the Rain Pavilion evidently believed in a strict separation of church and state—or rather, work and life.

Everyone present was either a Talisman Master or related to one.

Lin Yu and her sister, Lin Yan. One was in the late stages of Qi Condensation, the other in early Foundation Establishment.

Strictly speaking, neither had the qualifications to roam the third floor so freely. But in the cultivation world, nepotism was a power all its own. Their father was a Senior Talisman Master at the peak of Foundation Establishment, granting them unrestricted access.

It didn’t take long for Jiang Chen to spot the man in question.

Bai Xiaotian.

He appeared to be in his forties—a young man by cultivator standards, but possessing an air of gravitas that made him seem older. He wore robes of deep ink-black, the hem embroidered with rolling waves of silver thread. Beneath sharp, sweeping brows, his eyes held the cold, piercing intensity of distant stars.

His hands told the story of his life. The knuckles were pronounced, the skin weathered, and the palms were permanently stained with dark pigments—the mark of a man who had spent decades grinding ink and gripping a brush.

“Father!” Lin Yu chirped, bouncing forward with the energy of a spring hare.

Jiang Chen followed a respectful few paces behind, bowing deeply with his hands cupped. “Senior Bai.”

Bai Xiaotian glanced at his youngest daughter. Seeing her cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s, he rubbed his temples, a headache clearly forming. “Can’t you at least wipe your mouth before speaking?”

He sighed internally. His youngest was either eating, or on her way to find something to eat. Her talent for talismans was improving, but compared to the discipline required of a true Master, she was still light-years away. Thank the heavens his eldest daughter, Lin Yan, was a promising Junior Alchemist who required none of his supervision.

Lin Yu swallowed her treat and retorted with righteous indignation, “Who wipes their mouth halfway through a meal?”

Bai Xiaotian’s face flushed. Sensing that arguing with her was a losing battle, he forced himself to calm down and shifted his gaze to the young man standing behind her.

His eyes were critical, scanning Jiang Chen from head to toe. “So, you are the Spirit Farmer Ling’er keeps talking about? The one with the exceptional cooking skills?”

“This junior is Jiang Chen,” he replied evenly.

“You have a Wood Spirit Root,” Bai Xiaotian noted, his tone curious. “Why the sudden interest in talismans?”

Jiang Chen met the elder’s gaze without flinching. “As my Spirit Farm expands and my cultivation rises, I find that everything—from maintaining Formations to repairing Spirit Tools—relies on runic knowledge. I wish to understand the underlying principles to better manage my affairs.”

Bai Xiaotian nodded slowly, a glint of approval in his eyes. “A pragmatic answer. You seek self-improvement and self-reliance. I appreciate that in a cultivator.”

Jiang Chen sensed a deeper meaning in the praise, perhaps a subtle dig at disciples who relied solely on their masters, but he kept his expression neutral.

Lin Yu, impatient with the pleasantries, stood on her tiptoes and waved a grease-stained hand in front of her father’s face. “Father! The books!”

Bai Xiaotian looked down at her. “I have plenty of standard introductory texts. Why do you insist on the ones with my personal annotations?”

Lin Yu didn’t back down. “He’s a Wood Spirit Root farmer, Father! If you give him the raw, obscure texts, it’ll be like reading heavenly scripture to a cow. How is he supposed to understand without your notes?”

Bai Xiaotian froze.

He wasn’t angry. He was stunned because… she actually made sense.

Jiang Chen stood to the side, fighting every instinct in his body to keep a straight face.

After a long pause, Bai Xiaotian recovered. He flicked his sleeve, and a stack of worn, bound volumes appeared in his grip. “Fine. Take them.”

Lin Yu snatched the books, spun around, and presented them to Jiang Chen like a general presenting the spoils of war. “Hehe! See? I keep my promises!”

Jiang Chen bowed deeply again, his gratitude genuine. “Thank you, Senior Bai. And thank you, Ling’er.”

Only then did he accept the books.

The covers were faded, the titles worn almost illegible by the friction of countless fingers. These weren’t display pieces; they were working manuals. Bai Xiaotian must have referenced them constantly to reach his current height as a Senior Talisman Master. This stack represented half a lifetime of dedication.

“You may go,” Bai Xiaotian dismissed him with a wave, turning back to his work.

“Yes, Senior. I will return to the farm,” Jiang Chen said, bowing for a third time.

Before leaving, he discreetly retrieved several more packages of spirit food from his storage bag and pressed them into Lin Yu’s arms.

This transaction had been heavily weighted in his favor. If these annotated manuals were released to the general public, the Water Spirit Root apprentices downstairs would riot to get their hands on them. A few roasted potatoes were a cheap price to pay.

He waited until Lin Yu’s arms were full before turning to leave.

Descending from the third floor to the second, the atmosphere shifted again.

The crowd had thinned significantly. The elites—Huo Ling, Shi Yan, and the others—had vanished.

Only three people remained near the railing.

One was the Rain Pavilion Manager. One appeared to be a female physician.

And the third was Shui Wuhen.

The once-proud top disciple sat in silence, his injuries treated but his spirit clearly broken. The trio ignored the few passersby, lost in a grim discussion.

Jiang Chen didn’t linger. He hurried down to the first floor.

Even here, the crowd had dispersed. Small knots of disciples still whispered about the duel between Shui Wuhen and Mo Sha, but the shock had faded, replaced by a lingering unease.

Walking out into the cold air, Jiang Chen’s mind raced. Mo Sha isn’t just picking fights. He’s clearing the board.

By crushing the strongest disciple of the Rain Pavilion before the formal competition even began, Mo Sha was systematically dismantling the morale of his potential rivals.

Shui Wuhen had lost before. Long Ao had defeated him in the past. If Mo Sha wanted to prove his dominance, his next target was obvious.

Beast Mountain.

Jiang Chen retrieved Long Ao’s Communication Talisman. He hesitated for a moment, then infused it with Qi.

Silence.

No response.

Figures, Jiang Chen thought, shaking his head. Long Ao was likely deep in seclusion or already dealing with trouble.

He stowed the talisman and summoned the Giant Leaf.

He wasn’t going to Beast Mountain to gawk. He was going home.

He had tried to send a warning; that was the extent of his obligation. He was just a humble spirit farmer, after all. He had no interest in fame, glory, or sect politics. His path was simple: farm, hoard resources, increase his lifespan, and get stronger in the shadows.

Everything else was noise.

An hour later, Jiang Chen touched down at his fortress.

The sun had set, and the farm was peaceful. Da Huang, the Pearl Chickens, the Fortress construct, and the five Fire Crows were all resting.

Jiang Chen moved quietly to his study. He lit the glazed lamp, the warm orange glow pushing back the shadows, and placed the stack of books on his desk.

He opened the first volume, titled The True Origin of Talismans.

A rich, nostalgic scent of old paper and dried ink wafted up to greet him.

[Table of Contents]

I. The Origin: Manifestation of Heaven and Earth Laws

II. The Ancient Era: Formation of the Primary Runic Systems

III. The Middle Antiquity: The Revolution of Spirit Paper & Low-Tier Standardization

IV. Modern Application: Fusion with Artifacts and Arrays

The content was dense, but Bai Xiaotian’s handwriting filled the margins. The notes broke down complex theories into digestible metaphors, bridging the gap between abstract theory and practical application.

Normally, Jiang Chen would use his Spiritual Sense to scan the pages, uploading the data to his brain instantly. But tonight, the tactile feel of the pages and the depth of the knowledge drew him in.

He read line by line, savoring the learning process.

Time blurred. Before he knew it, the agreed day had arrived.

Today was his appointment with Senior Sister Yu.

Reasoning that a workaholic alchemist like Yu Caiqing likely forgot to eat while secluded in her lab, Jiang Chen spent the morning preparing a sumptuous, high-energy Spirit Meal.

He packed the food into insulated containers, stepped onto his Giant Leaf, and shot into the sky, heading straight for the scorching heat of the Earthfire Zone.