In the days that followed, Chen Ping’s life settled into a precise, mechanical rhythm.

During the day, he donned the indigo robes of a Manager disciple and patrolled the medicinal herb fields under his supervision.

He spoke very little. Most of his time was spent observing—watching how the laborers worked, studying the daily growth of the spirit herbs, and silently memorizing the nuances of the garden.

He forced himself to fully inhabit the role of a Manager, committing the key care requirements for every species to memory. He paid particular attention to the herbs of higher value.

The Compendium of Hundred Herbs never left his side; he would flip through it whenever he had a spare moment.

Initially, the laborers were nervous, assuming the new Manager was watching them to find faults. However, they soon realized Chen Ping was simply reading his book and occasionally gesturing toward the fields. Gradually, they grew accustomed to his presence.

Wang Fa became an invaluable source of information. The old laborer had been in the garden for decades, and his practical experience far outweighed what was written in books.

Chen Ping would often ask about details missing from the Compendium, keeping his tone casual.

“Wang Fa, what pest is the most troublesome for this Red Sun Flower?”

“Reporting to the Manager: the most annoying is the ‘Fire Aphid.’ It has a red head and a black back, and it specializes in sucking sap from tender leaves. You have to spray them with water infused with tobacco leaves.”

“What about Cold Star Grass? The book says pests are rare.”

“Uncommon, but not unheard of. Last year, we had an outbreak of ‘Frost Moths.’ They are white, fuzzy bugs that hide on the undersides of leaves and chew on the veins. They fear heat, so you have to pick them off one by one by hand. It’s a real hassle.”

Chen Ping silently committed every word to memory.

He also observed the other Manager disciples, particularly Bai Zhi.

Bai Zhi was in charge of the East Garden, managing several precious cold-natured spirit herbs. She rarely spoke to the laborers. She spent most of her time alone in the fields, bending down to inspect her plants with gentle, focused movements.

Chen Ping watched her from afar a few times. He felt that she possessed a tranquility that seemed entirely out of place on the grime of the Servant Peak.

When they occasionally crossed paths on the garden trails, they would merely exchange a slight nod.

Nighttime belonged to Chen Ping.

He would consume a stalk of Purifying Grass in his stone hut before entering the Jade Pendant space to cultivate.

Thirty sets of the Vitality Technique had become his baseline. He began to push his limits.

Thirty-five sets… forty sets…

Each night, he practiced until he was completely exhausted. He could clearly feel his strength increasing—slowly but steadily—while his body’s resilience and endurance improved alongside it.

After practicing, he would study the Compendium of Hundred Herbs, analyzing the propagation methods of the herbs he coveted and calculating the points of minimum risk for “acquiring” materials.

A month passed.

Chen Ping now had a thorough understanding of the West District.

He had also deciphered the patterns of the garden.

The laborers didn’t keep their eyes glued to every single plant while working. The Immortal Master from the peak only came for an inspection at the beginning of each month to check overall growth and pest control; they rarely visited otherwise.

For lower-value, abundant plants like the Blood Stanching Vine or Dew Condensing Grass, a missing section of vine or a single leaf would not attract any attention at all—provided it wasn’t a crucial part of the main root system.

Chen Ping knew the time was ripe.

It was the end of the month.

Chen Ping was patrolling the herb fields as usual. He stopped by a patch of vigorously growing Blood Stanching Vine.

The Blood Stanching Vine was a perennial with thick, robust stems and tenacious vitality. Its main value lay in its tough bark and root tubers, which were used to refine basic Blood Recovery Pills.

This specific patch was large, with vines twining densely around bamboo frames, creating a wall of lush verdure.

Sun Xiaohai, the young laborer responsible for this area, was gingerly checking the leaves for pests.

Chen Ping walked over. He pointed to a main vine stem near the edge that was particularly thick and sturdy. Its bark was a deep, rich brown, verging on black.

“This vine is growing well. Judging by this color, its medicinal properties should be quite accumulated by now, correct?”

Sun Xiaohai hurried over to reply.

“Reporting to the Manager, yes. This is an old vine; its medicinal properties are indeed strong. This kind of deep-brown old vine bark is one of the main ingredients for refining High-grade Blood Recovery Pills. The peak values it highly.”

Chen Ping nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmm, old vines are good. However, the growth here is too dense; they’re tangled together. Poor ventilation can easily breed pests and diseases. Look here.”

He reached out and gently parted several overlapping leaves near the base of the vine, revealing a section of bark that was slightly shadowed.

“Doesn’t this look like it might be starting to mold?”

Sun Xiaohai leaned in for a closer look. There were indeed tiny gray-black specks on the bark—hard to notice if one wasn’t looking for them. His expression tightened.

“Oh! Manager, your eyesight is excellent! This… this looks like it could be an early sign of Wet Rot Disease! We need to deal with it quickly!”

Chen Ping’s tone remained steady and authoritative.

“Don’t panic. For a minor issue like this, just cut off the infected section. Go find some clean plant ash. We’ll sprinkle it on the wound to prevent the infection from spreading. The cut needs to be clean and even.”

“Yes, yes! I’ll go get the plant ash right away!”

Not daring to delay, Sun Xiaohai jogged off toward the tool shed.

Watching Sun Xiaohai disappear into the distance, Chen Ping quickly scanned his surroundings. The other laborers were all bent over their work in their respective areas. No one was looking.

He swiftly pulled an exceptionally sharp, honed iron blade from his sleeve.

With his left hand, he pinched an inconspicuous spot on the old main vine, hidden deep within the foliage. With his right hand, he exerted a burst of precise force from his wrist.

Snip.

The blade sliced through the grain of the vine effortlessly. He severed a small section, about two inches long and as thick as a little finger.

The cut surface was smooth.

He instantly stuffed the freshly cut vine section deep into his sleeve pocket.

The entire process took less than three breaths.

He stepped back, his expression unchanged, acting as if he were merely observing the diseased spot.

Moments later, Sun Xiaohai came running back with a bag of plant ash.

Chen Ping pointed at the fresh wound on the vine—the spot where he had just “found” the mold.

“Right here. Clean up the edge and seal it well with ash.”

Suspecting nothing, Sun Xiaohai took out his own medicinal knife. He neatly trimmed the edge of the cut Chen Ping had made, treating it as the removal of diseased bark, and then applied a thick layer of plant ash to the exposed surface to seal it.

“Thank you for pointing it out, Manager! It would have been terrible if we let the disease spread further!” Sun Xiaohai said gratefully, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Hmm. Pay more attention going forward,” Chen Ping replied simply, his face betraying nothing.

He turned and walked away, heading toward the next patch of herbs.

Inside his sleeve pocket, pressed against his skin, lay the warm piece of spirit vine.

His heart beat slightly faster than usual, and his palms were damp with a cold sweat. This was the first time he had stolen material directly under the watchful eyes of others.

But the risk had been calculated, the execution flawless.

He had successfully acquired his first true Spirit Herb.