The morning light had just begun to break through, and a drop of dew from the eaves of the straw hut slid down a dead leaf, landing with a soft plink on a pottery jar by Wei Changsheng's feet.
He didn't look up, his finger gently spun the handle of his small hoe, and the System interface quietly appeared; the gray text from last night had long vanished, but the '0.8%' progress bar was like a thorn, stuck in the background process of his thoughts.
He closed the interface and had just tucked the hoe into his belt when footsteps sounded from beyond the field path—not one person, but three, their steps synchronized, their Spiritual Qi fluctuations suppressed to an extremely low level, yet unable to conceal their condescending aura.
Zhao Yan led the way, his green robe cinched at the waist, his cuffs embroidered with the Hall of the Stewards' cloud and thunder patterns, a bronze token clutched in his hand, with two people behind him, one on each side, clearly positioned to surround him.
"Wei Changsheng?" Zhao Yan's voice was not loud, but it scraped like a blade across a stone slab, "The Spiritual Qi in this field is abnormal; the Hall of the Stewards received a report suspecting cultivation with witchcraft, and we require your cooperation for inspection."
Wei Changsheng slowly straightened up, patted the dirt from his pant legs, and put on the usual helpless 'here we go again' smile of a Servant: "Senior Brother, the Spirit Rice I hand over from this field every month is never late, and I catch pests by hand. Where would I get witchcraft?"
"Whether it's witchcraft or not is not for you to decide," Zhao Yan snorted coldly, "Someone saw with their own eyes you using 'Earth Fire Tempering,' where the rice stalks ignited with a green flame and extinguished in three breaths—that's not a reaction ordinary Spirit Rice should have."
Wei Changsheng's heart tightened, but his expression relaxed even further: "Oh, that..." He sighed, pulled out a Jade Slip from his Pregnant, and handed it over, "It's an Incomplete Manual passed down from my ancestors. How would I dare to hide it? It's just that this method consumes too much Spirit, and using it once in the Qi Condensation stage leaves me recuperating for three days."
Zhao Yan took the Jade Slip, scanned it with his Divine Sense, and frowned slightly.
The content of the Jade Slip was a mix of classical and colloquial Chinese, interspersed with many ancient cultivation terms, such as "four parts three-yin soil, three parts yang sand, ignite fire at midnight, temper for seven carve," which sounded plausible, and even included failure records: "Consumed six Mid-Grade Spirit Stones, only one stalk succeeded, fire control lost, rice destroyed, person injured."
"You're a Servant, where did you get an ancestral secret method?" Zhao Yan narrowed his eyes, "Don't think you can fool your way through by fabricating a Jade Slip."
Wei Changsheng gave a bitter smile: "My ancestors were farmers; the land deeds passed down through generations are carved on this hoe—if you don't believe me, shall I demonstrate it on the spot?"
At these words, Zhao Yan was momentarily stunned.
He had expected the other party to stubbornly deny it, but instead, he admitted it directly and even offered to demonstrate.
"You dare?" A Disciple behind him sneered, "Don't tell me you're trying to destroy evidence."
"Destroy evidence?" Wei Changsheng shrugged, "I'd be glad if someone learned it. This method is too expensive; my monthly Spirit Rice quota is just barely enough, how would I dare to try it more? Besides, if it were really witchcraft, could I have lived in this broken straw hut for three years? I'd have been 'invited for tea' by the Hall of the Stewards long ago."
As he spoke, he took out three Mid-Grade Spirit Stones from his Storage Pouch and embedded them into the inconspicuous stone stakes by the field.
The surface of the stone stakes glowed with a dark red pattern, as if scorched by fire, and immediately after, a faint Earth Fire aura seeped from the soil, causing the rice roots to turn slightly red.
"Pseudo-Formation activated," Wei Changsheng muttered softly, tapping the hoe handle twice with his finger, and the 'Soil Temperature Control Rune Sticker' gifted by the System quietly activated, simulating the fluctuations of Earth Fire.
He casually plucked an ordinary Spirit Rice stalk, tossed it into the air, and with a flick of his finger, the rice stalk 'whoosh' ignited with a green flame.
The flame was pale green, flickered for three breaths, then extinguished, leaving only a charred remnant falling to the ground.
"See, it failed," Wei Changsheng spread his hands, "I tried it seven times last month, and it succeeded once. That stalk of rice is still enshrined in the straw hut like an 'ancestor' now."
Zhao Yan stared at the charred rice stalk, his Divine Sense probing it, only to find the Spiritual Qi chaotic and worthless.
His expression softened slightly, but he remained vigilant: "You say it's ancestral, but do you have corroborating evidence?"
"Corroborating evidence?" Wei Changsheng laughed, "My parents died in a beast tide years ago, leaving only this hoe and half a Jade Slip. Would you like to ask them in the underworld?"
Zhao Yan was choked for a moment and was about to flare up when Wei Changsheng suddenly lowered his voice: "However... a few days ago, Senior Sister Liu from Dan Peak also came to ask about this method."
The faces of all three changed.
"She said 'the fire element is too strong, it's prone to exploding the furnace,' and asked if I had used cinnabar to adulterate it," Wei Changsheng said with a troubled expression, "How would I dare? She saw through it at a glance, and I was just worried about not having anyone to guide me. If you can help me get an introduction to an elder, I'm willing to offer the Jade Slip to the Library Pavilion so everyone can see it—anyway, this method is both expensive and difficult; using it in the Qi Condensation stage will lightly cause exhaustion, and severely burn the Meridians. Whoever wants to learn it can learn it."
After speaking, he genuinely offered the Jade Slip forward, adopting an extremely humble posture.
Zhao Yan stared at him for two breaths, then finally put away the bronze token: "The Jade Slip will be temporarily held. If no issues are found, it will be returned in three days. You... take care of yourself."
With that, he turned and left, his steps three times faster than when he arrived.
Wei Changsheng stood rooted, watching the three figures disappear until their backs vanished around the corner of the medicine garden, then slowly let out a breath.
He lowered his head, tapping the hoe handle lightly with his fingertips, and a System prompt silently popped up: "Detected external imitation attempt, Cultivation Point +5."
"Data model updated," he muttered softly, "Inner sect investigation probability decreased by 67%, but 'high-value target' tag has been generated."
He squatted down, shook a wisp of extremely fine mutated rice powder from his cuff, and casually tossed it, the wind conveniently blowing it towards the dry well outside the field.
"Next time, I'll have to add something extra," he mumbled, "like 'those who Cultivate this method will develop hemorrhoids within seven days'—let's see who still dares to copy it."
As he was speaking, his peripheral vision suddenly caught something unusual.
In the dry grass patch at the edge of the field path, a red shadow flashed past, so fast it seemed like an illusion.
But that hint of red was distinctly the corner of a robe with the crimson cloud pattern, only found in the inner sect of Dan Peak.
Wei Changsheng remained calm, simply sticking his small hoe into the ground, the rune grooves faintly heating up.
He knew Liu Yan'er had been there just now.
She saw the green flame, heard about 'cinnabar adulteration,' and heard him mention her.
This game of chess was indeed becoming more lively.
He turned and returned to the straw hut, and just as he lifted the curtain, the little fox darted out from the corner, its tail flicking, knocking over the jade bottle on the table.
The medicinal powder spilled out from the bottle, forming half a fragmented Formation pattern on the ground, connecting end-to-end with the pattern on the small hoe.
Wei Changsheng squatted down, staring at the Formation pattern, and suddenly smiled.
"You're quite good at adding insult to injury," he reached out and touched the tip of the fox's ear, where a blue light flashed and disappeared.
He stood up, took a newly harvested mutated Ninglu Grass from the System's Spiritual Field, put it into the pottery jar, added some ordinary soil, shook it well, and placed it in the most conspicuous spot at the entrance.
"Next time someone comes, tell them I just finished refining 'Hemorrhoid Secret Medicine,' specifically for those with restless hearts and who try to take advantage."
He sat back on the straw mat, opened his planting plan, and was about to record today's data when he suddenly sensed something was off.
The little fox, originally curled in the corner, was now standing upright, its front paws resting on the windowsill, and a wisp of golden flame slowly swirled in the depths of its pupils.
Wei Changsheng's pen tip paused.
That fire was not Liu Yan'er's Ziyang Fire, nor was it Wu Xiang Old Demon's black Qi.
It was another kind of fire, ancient, pure, as if it had been burning for a hundred thousand years.
He suddenly looked up, gazing towards the direction of the medicine garden.
A woman in red was standing by the field, her palm cupping the carbonized rice grain, her fingertips shimmering with faint light, as if dissecting some invisible rune.
She suddenly looked up, her gaze piercing through the night, looking directly at him.
Wei Changsheng did not hide.
They stared at each other across the distance, one breath, two breaths.
She opened her mouth, seemingly about to say something.
Inside the straw hut, the little fox suddenly bristled, its tail flicking, knocking over the jade bottle on the table.
The medicinal powder spilled out from the bottle, forming half a fragmented Formation pattern on the ground, connecting end-to-end with the pattern on the small hoe.