In the days that followed.

Xu Changshou resumed his Secluded Cultivation.

He remained behind closed doors for three consecutive months. When that period ended, he was forced to halt his advancement; his stockpile of Windwalk Talismans was depleted, meaning it was time to grind his brush once more.

This time, Xu Changshou spent over two arduous months mass-producing a staggering one thousand Windwalk Talismans.

He ran the numbers in his head-a thousand sheets would easily cover his Sect quota for the next seven months.

Seven unbroken months of cultivation would be just enough to breach the eighth layer of Qi Condensation.

With his quota secured, he threw himself back into bitter, silent cultivation.

One day, seven months later.

Boom!

It happened in a flash.

A stubborn barrier within Xu Changshou's meridians shattered, allowing a tidal wave of Spiritual Qi to surge violently into his flesh.

The torrential energy funneled toward his Guanyuan Acupoint, coalescing into a dense, golden vortex the size of a goose egg.

Xu Changshou's eyes snapped open. He felt the sheer, boundless density of his Spiritual Qi; his mind was a hundred times sharper, his vitality practically overflowing.

A full year of brutal Secluded Cultivation had finally propelled him into the eighth layer of Qi Condensation.

Yet, after the high of the breakthrough faded, reality set in. The next step was returning to the talisman desk.

It was an endless, suffocating cycle of monotony.

I have it easy, he thought cynically. Thanks to his cheat, he had uninterrupted months for cultivation. The other Miscellaneous Disciples lived a waking nightmare; they had to bleed themselves dry to meet their daily quotas before they could even meditate for a mere incense stick of time.

Deprived of extended periods of Secluded Cultivation, their advancement slowed to a pitiful crawl. If it were otherwise, Yang Bailao wouldn't still be stagnating at the tenth layer of Qi Condensation.

The man was over fifty; the gates of Foundation Establishment were permanently sealed to him in this lifetime.

Calculating the days, half the month had already slipped away. He only held thirty Windwalk Talismans in reserve-far short of his impending quota.

Back to the grind.

Over the next half-month, Xu Changshou drafted two hundred and seventy sheets. Combined with his meager leftovers, his stockpile reached three hundred.

With his heightened cultivation base, his efficiency had improved; he could comfortably produce an additional three sheets per day.

Exactly eighteen Windwalk Talismans a day, all without draining a single drop of his personal Spiritual Qi.

Naturally, exposing a higher yield meant the Sect would eventually bleed him for larger quotas.

The afternoon of the month's final day arrived.

Yang Bailao arrived at Xu Changshou's courtyard.

It had become a rigid routine; the older man always escorted Xu Changshou to submit their monthly tithes.

"Eh? Junior Brother Xu, you actually broke through!"

Sensing the aura of the eighth layer of Qi Condensation radiating from the boy, Yang Bailao's eyes widened in genuine shock.

Xu Changshou possessed spiritual roots far inferior to his own. When Yang Bailao had first arrived at Green Ink Peak, he too was at the seventh layer. It had taken him a grueling ten years of blood and sweat to cross that exact same threshold.

It wasn't because Yang Bailao was inherently slow. Talisman drafting demanded a constant output of Spiritual Qi. Once drained, a disciple had to painstakingly recover their reserves before true cultivation could even begin.

This endless cycle of draining and refilling was agonizingly laborious, utterly exhausting the mind and violently devouring precious years.

Yet here was Xu Changshou, breaching the eighth layer in just over a year. It defied all logic.

"Junior Brother Xu, how in the heavens did you manage this?" Yang Bailao asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"I... I suppose my ancestors left behind a lingering blessing..."

Xu Changshou offered a vague, self-deprecating smile, deliberately cutting the explanation short.

"Well, congratulations are in order!"

Yang Bailao dropped the subject instantly. Every man harbored his own hidden fortunes, especially those walking the path of cultivation.

Prying into a Fellow Daoist's secrets was the greatest taboo in the Cultivation world. To dig too deeply was an easy way to invite a sudden, violent death.

Thus, when a door was closed, a wise man did not knock twice.

"Come, Junior Brother Xu. Let us go submit our quotas."

"Right behind you, Senior Brother!"

...

"The eighth layer of Qi Condensation!"

Li Daotu's eyes narrowed as he assessed Xu Changshou's fluctuating aura, a flash of surprise breaking his usual stoic facade.

He quickly smoothed his expression into a tight smile. "Not bad, not bad at all. To break through so swiftly... this is excellent news, boy. Your quota for this month remains unchanged. However, starting next month, you shall submit one hundred and eighty Windwalk Talismans. In accordance with your new realm, your stipend will be increased by twenty broken Spirit Stones."

"This disciple understands and obeys."

...

The following day marked the first of the month-a mandated day of rest.

Xu Changshou chose neither to visit the market nor to cycle his Qi. He intended to savor the quiet of his courtyard.

He had just stabilized a violent breakthrough; pushing his meridians too hard right now would court disaster.

Even a taut bowstring needed slack.

Knock, knock, knock...

The sharp rapping at his timber gate shattered the morning stillness.

"Who goes there?"

"Junior Brother Xu, it is I!"

A feminine voice, bright yet laced with an arrogant lilt, drifted over the wall.

Despite the months of isolation, Xu Changshou immediately placed the voice. It was Ye Shanhu.

"Senior Sister Ye?"

"The very same."

"Just a moment!"

Xu Changshou disengaged the courtyard's defensive Formation with a flick of his wrist and swung the heavy timber doors open.

Standing at his threshold was a young woman draped in the crisp, elegant green Daoist robes of an inner disciple.

Her lips were a stark crimson against porcelain skin, her eyes bright and piercing. Time and cultivation had refined her features, molding her figure into something undeniably striking.

Xu Changshou was momentarily caught off guard. They say a girl changes eighteen times before womanhood, but the Ye Shanhu standing before him possessed an ethereal, distracting beauty.

Ye Shanhu seemed completely unfazed by his stare. If anything, she subtly straightened her posture, lifting her chin. "Well? Are you not going to invite your Senior Sister inside?"

"Ah, forgive my manners. Please, Senior Sister Ye, come in."

Xu Changshou ushered her into his modest dwelling, hurriedly brewing a pot of coarse tea before seating himself across from her.

"It has been quite some time, Senior Sister Ye."

"Indeed it has... Eh? The eighth layer of Qi Condensation? You actually broke through?"

Ye Shanhu's beautiful eyes widened dramatically, staring at him as if he had just sprouted a second head.

Of the ten initiates from their Gengzi Courtyard, Xu Changshou had possessed the absolute worst spiritual roots. He was universally acknowledged as the slowest cultivator, ultimately discarded to the sweatshop that was Green Ink Peak.

For him to claw his way into the eighth layer in less than two years under those brutal conditions... it was absurd.

The laborers of Green Ink Peak were famously stagnant. Their cultivation was crippled by the daily drain of talisman drafting. It was a well-documented death sentence for advancement.

How did he bypass the drain? What kind of hidden fortune did he stumble upon?

Catching the intensity in her gaze, Xu Changshou suppressed a spike of paranoia. He forced a relaxed smile. "You have already reached the ninth layer, Senior Sister. Is it so strange that I managed the eighth?"

He wasn't lying. Ye Shanhu's aura clearly pulsed with the density of the ninth layer-a full realm above him.

This was the insurmountable chasm between an ordinary beggar and a legacy disciple with clan backing.

In terms of raw talent, her spiritual roots weren't vastly superior to Yang Bailao's.

Yet, Ye Shanhu was already at the ninth layer, breathing down the neck of Yang Bailao's tenth.

The crucial difference? Ye Shanhu was merely fifteen years old. Yang Bailao was fifty.

Endless Pills and Spirit Stones could violently force a path where talent failed. The wealth gap was the true Great Dao.

"I meant no disrespect," Ye Shanhu said quickly, recovering her composure. "I simply did not expect your advancement to be so swift. Please do not take offense, Junior Brother."

"There is no offense taken, Senior Sister. I know my own worth."

"Speaking of the past," Xu Changshou asked, unable to fully mask his curiosity, "how fare the others from the courtyard?"

Since his exile to Green Ink Peak, he had been entirely cut off from his former peers.

"It is... complicated."

Ye Shanhu sighed, shaking her head. "I have lost contact with several of them. I haven't seen a shadow of Li Linhao, Su Mo, Han Zong, Shi Wantong, or Qian Yuanbao in months."

"Zhang Feixian is currently accumulating his Qi, preparing for a breakthrough to the eighth layer."

"Lin Xian'er has proven quite capable. She successfully breached the eighth layer a month ago."

Xu Changshou raised an eyebrow. "Lin Xian'er broke through as well?"

And here I thought I was the only one aggressively pulling ahead, he mused.

"And what of Jiang Xiaochuan?"

"I cross paths with Junior Brother Jiang occasionally. He sought my connections to procure some high-grade Pills. He is also on the precipice of the eighth layer."

"Oh, and he specifically mentioned that the moment he succeeds, you will be the first person he visits."

"Is that so?"

Xu Changshou let out a dry, knowing chuckle.

He knew exactly what that meant. Jiang Xiaochuan was holding a petty grudge, desperately grinding his cultivation just so he could kick down Xu Changshou's door and force him to bow as a 'Junior Brother.'

It perfectly explained why the arrogant brat had avoided him for nearly two years.

"Well, reminiscing aside, Senior Sister... what brings you to my humble courtyard today?"

Ye Shanhu's expression sobered. "Junior Brother Xu, I have come to ask you for a favor."

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