Inside the stone hut, Old Daoist Li spoke in low, hushed tones, imparting the mnemonic for the Breath Concealment Technique and the subtle tricks of Sound Transmission. Finally, gritting his teeth, he forced a single drop of crimson Blood Essence to manifest at his fingertip and offered it to Han Yu.

“The true chapter of the Blood Refining Art is a path of cultivation; it cannot be desecrated by mundane paper and ink. I can only pass it to you through this medium.”

The old man’s voice rasped with effort. “You may simply sense the manual within, or, if you wish, you may refine this drop of my essence for yourself.”

Han Yu shook his head gently. “I will only take the technique. Please, Fellow Daoist, take back your essence once I am finished.”

The orthodox Blood Refining Art required one to surge their internal vitality toward the Shanzhong acupoint to condense a Blood Talisman. This talisman served as the core for the first layer’s Circulation Cycle. Without the specific diagrams for the talisman’s structure and the exact path of the cycle, success was impossible.

Once the talisman formed, a cultivator’s physical resilience and blood vitality would skyrocket. More importantly, as long as one possessed sufficient Blood Essence, almost any bodily wound could be mended in an instant.

As Han Yu committed the method to memory, a surge of quiet joy filled his heart. This was the missing piece for his Spirit Root Refining Art! With the ability to regenerate, he no longer feared the self-inflicted wounds required to refine his roots.

When the transfer was complete, Li Quan’s face was sallow and drained, yet his eyes held a glimmer of peace. “It is done, little brat.”

Han Yu bowed deeply with genuine respect. “My thanks, Fellow Daoist.”

Li Quan waved a dismissive, skeletal hand. “Don’t thank me. This settles the final tie between us.”

“In the future, if you walk the Demonic Path, never speak my name. If you walk the righteous path, never let the habits of a Demonic Cultivator stain your heart. I became what I am out of necessity—you must not follow my example.”

The old man turned and vanished into the ink-black night, his figure blurring until he was gone. Han Yu stood in the doorway, gazing into the darkness for a long time.

The next morning, Han Yu performed his rounds in the spirit fields as usual. He caught sight of Li Quan across the way, but the old man’s expression was stern and aloof, as if they were total strangers.

Han Yu didn’t force a greeting. After his inspection, he retreated to his hut. After refining the medicinal power of a Mystic Heart Fruit into Spirit Breath, he laid out the manuals for the Spirit Root Refining Art and the Blood Refining Art.

If he succeeded, he would use the secret art to refine one of his roots, ascending from a Four Spirit Roots aptitude to a Three Spirit Roots talent. It would fundamentally change his cultivation speed and his ultimate ceiling.

Suddenly, footsteps crunched on the gravel outside.

“Junior Brother Han, are you there?”

Han Yu quickly stowed his belongings and opened the door to find Liu Lan. “Senior Sister Liu? Is something the matter?”

“I wanted to ask,” she said, her brow furrowed. “Have you seen Senior Brother Zhang today?”

Zhang Shan…

Han Yu’s face remained a mask of calm. “I haven’t seen him.”

Liu Lan sighed, not suspecting a thing. “Strange. Where could he have gone so early? I’ll go ask the others.”

Han Yu realized that Liu Lan was still entirely in the dark about Zhang Shan’s disappearance the previous day. “Is it urgent? Surely it can wait until he returns.”

“I’ve run out of spirit rice for my training,” Liu Lan admitted, looking frustrated. “Senior Brother Zhang promised to give me some today, but he’s nowhere to be found.”

Han Yu remained silent. In the Spirit Field Department, no one was selfless enough to give away precious resources—except for Zhang Shan, who had been grooming Liu Lan for his own dark purposes.

Now that Zhang Shan was dead, Liu Lan’s supply line was severed. It was a grim irony; the man she relied on had become the very resource that fueled Old Daoist Li’s breakthrough.

Once she left, Han Yu returned to his bed. He replicated two drops of Blood Essence to bolster his own reserves. After refining them, he felt his vitality peak at eleven drops. His blood was saturated; he could not hold a single drop more.

It was time.

He didn’t rush into the Blood Refining breakthrough, however. He turned his attention to the Breath Concealment Technique first. Reaching the first layer of Blood Refining would leave a pungent, metallic scent of gore on his body for three days and nights unless he had a way to mask it.

With his foundation at the second layer of Qi Refining and his mastery over the Wind and Water Control Techniques, learning a basic concealment spell was trivial. Within two hours, he had achieved basic mastery.

To his surprise, the technique did more than mask scents—it could also shroud his cultivation level. He could now naturally disguise his Qi Refining second layer as the first, adding a vital layer of security.

That night, under a dark moon, the Spirit Field Department fell into a heavy silence. Only after Senior Sister Wei returned from Steward Wang’s quarters did Han Yu begin.

He concentrated every drop of Blood Essence at his Shanzhong acupoint. His mind roared like a waterfall, and his extremities grew ice-cold as his blood retreated from his limbs.

Slowly, a Blood Talisman etched with a single twisted vein condensed in his chest. The achievement of the first layer!

Immediately, the talisman began to pulse, pumping fresh, invigorated blood through his veins. Han Yu felt himself “thaw” as a tidal wave of vitality, life force, and raw power surged through him. He felt twice as strong as he had only moments before.

With the ability to heal himself using Blood Essence, the final barrier to the Spirit Root Refining Art had crumbled.

The next morning, Han Yu checked his reflection in a basin of water. He was relieved to see his hair was still jet black, unlike Li Quan’s, which had begun to sprout blood-red streaks. Perhaps it was because he refined his own clean essence rather than the stolen blood of others.

Outside, a small crowd of Laborer Disciples including Sun Kang, Liu Lan, and Li Quan were gathered in a circle, whispering frantically.

“I saw the light in Senior Brother Zhang’s hut late last night…” Sun Kang sighed, shaking his head. “I never thought he’d actually do it.”

Senior Sister Wei nodded. “With a Five Spirit Roots aptitude, he’s been stuck for years. It’s only natural to lose hope eventually.”

“He even gave his remaining spirit rice to Junior Sister Liu,” someone else added. “He clearly knew he wasn’t coming back.”

Liu Lan stood in the center, clutching a yellow scrap of paper, her eyes red from crying.

Han Yu approached and learned the news: Zhang Shan had supposedly “returned” briefly in the night to leave a farewell note, stating he was leaving the sect to seek his fortune in the mortal world.