**Chapter 2: The Drunken Immortal Pavilion and the Night of Miracles**
The narrow, foul-smelling alleyway was dead silent, save for the ragged, panicked breathing of the beggar girl, Su Qingxue. She was pressed flat against the damp brick wall, her large, obsidian eyes wide with sheer, unadulterated terror as she stared at the man who had just claimed her as his wife.
Han Lin stood amidst a sudden, radiating circle of clean cobblestones, the accumulated grime and trash of the alley having been blasted outward by the concussive force of his breakthrough. A faint, ethereal green aura still clung to his skin, slowly dissipating into the night air.
But it was the smell that brought Han Lin back to his senses.
A pungent, nauseating odor, like rotting fish mixed with stagnant swamp water, assaulted his nose. He looked down at his hands and grimaced. A thick, viscous black ooze was seeping from his pores, staining his already dirty grey robe an even darker shade of filth.
*Marrow Cleansing,* Han Lin realized, his heart skipping a beat in awe. *The expulsion of mortal impurities.*
Normally, a cultivator only experienced a true Marrow Cleansing when breaking through to the Foundation Establishment realm. At the Qi Condensation stages, the body was merely gathering spiritual energy to slowly nourish the flesh. The breakthroughs from level one to level three were usually subtle—a clearing of the mind, a slight increase in physical strength, a sharpening of the senses.
But the sheer volume and purity of the Wood Qi he had just received from the System's Tenfold Return had been so violent, so overwhelming, that it had forcibly scrubbed a layer of mortal toxins directly from his bones and meridians.
He flexed his fingers. They felt... different. Lighter. The chronic, dull ache in his lower back and shoulders—a parting gift from a year of swinging a heavy iron hoe in the Azure Cloud Sect's spiritual fields—was completely gone. The chaotic spiritual energy in his dantian, which usually felt like a tangled knot of conflicting elements, now spun with a slightly more stabilized rhythm. The dominating presence of the pure Wood Qi had acted as a soothing balm to the raging conflicts of his five-element pseudo root.
"Level Three," Han Lin whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and ecstasy. "A whole year of blood and sweat, blocked by a bottleneck like an iron mountain... and it shattered in a single second."
He looked up at Qingxue. The girl was shivering, not from the cold, but from the terrifying display of supernatural power. To a mortal who had never seen anything beyond the brutal struggles of the slums, Han Lin's sudden explosion of energy must have looked like a descending demon god.
Han Lin quickly reigned in his aura, forcing the residual spiritual energy back into his dantian. He needed to calm her down. If she ran away in terror now, he would lose his golden ticket to the heavens.
He formed a clumsy hand seal, one of the few basic miscellaneous spells he had managed to learn over the past year: the Minor Water Cleansing Art. It was a spell designed for spiritual farmers to wash the pesticide off their crops, not for combat.
A small, spherical orb of clear water materialized in the air above him. With a flick of his wrist, the orb burst, cascading over him in a fine, localized mist. The spiritual water dissolved the foul-smelling black ooze instantly, washing it off his skin and leaving his skin feeling cool and refreshed. Unfortunately, his grey robe remained stained, but the nauseating stench was gone.
"Don't be afraid," Han Lin said softly, taking a slow step toward her. He kept his hands open and visible. "That was just... a minor breakthrough in my cultivation. It means the heavens approve of our union."
He was blatantly lying about the heavens, but it worked. The religious awe of the mortal world ran deep.
Qingxue slowly lowered her hands from her face. "Y-you are truly an Immortal Master... Milord... Husband..." The last word felt incredibly foreign on her tongue, but she forced it out, remembering the promise that had saved her life.
Han Lin smiled, a genuine, relieved smile. "I am. And from now on, you share in that destiny. Come. Standing in this filth is no longer suitable for someone of your station. We are going to the best establishment in Cloudfall City."
He held out his hand again. This time, she didn't hesitate as long. She placed her tiny, bruised hand in his, and Han Lin led her out of the suffocating darkness of the alleyway and into the vibrant, lantern-lit streets of the mortal metropolis.
Cloudfall City was divided into distinct districts, and Han Lin had no intention of staying in the outer slums. He led Qingxue straight toward the inner city, where the wealthy mortal merchants, high-ranking martial artists, and visiting cultivators congregated.
The contrast between the two of them and their surroundings grew starker the deeper they went. The buildings transitioned from leaning wooden shacks to grand, multi-story pavilions made of polished red wood and topped with glazed emerald tiles. The streets were paved with smooth white stone, entirely free of the mud and sewage of the outer rings. The people here wore fine silks, carried themselves with arrogance, and rode in ornate palanquins.
And then there was Han Lin and Qingxue.
Han Lin looked like a vagabond scholar who had fallen into a ditch, wearing a stained, coarse grey robe. Qingxue looked far worse—a literal beggar from the gutters, her clothes practically rotting off her emaciated frame, her hair a matted bird's nest of grime.
As they walked down the prosperous Central Avenue, they drew stares of disgust, outrage, and open mockery.
"Look at that filth! How did beggars get past the inner city guards?" a fat merchant adorned in gold rings spat, pulling his silk robes tight to avoid brushing against them.
"Probably sneaked in through the drainage grates," a young master holding a folding fan sneered. "Guards! Where are the city patrols? Throw this trash out!"
Qingxue shrank behind Han Lin, her old survival instincts screaming at her to run, to hide, to apologize for simply existing. The scorn of these wealthy mortals was something she was intimately familiar with; it usually preceded a severe beating. She tugged frantically at Han Lin's sleeve.
"H-Husband... we shouldn't be here... they will hurt us..." she whispered, her voice cracking with panic.
Han Lin didn't even break his stride. He patted her hand gently. "Walk tall, Qingxue. Remember what I told you. You are my wife now. In this world, mortals are nothing but dust beneath our feet. They can scream all they want, but they cannot touch the heavens."
He stopped in front of the grandest building on the avenue. It was a massive, five-story structure illuminated by dozens of glowing spiritual stones embedded in the archways—a massive luxury for the mortal realm. Above the entrance, a plaque carved from fragrant sandalwood read: *Drunken Immortal Pavilion*.
It was the premier inn and restaurant in Cloudfall City, a place exclusively catering to the elite and the occasional passing cultivator.
As Han Lin and Qingxue approached the carved marble steps, two burly bouncers dressed in high-quality martial arts robes instantly crossed their polearms, blocking the path. Their faces were twisted in identical expressions of deep disgust.
"Halt!" the bouncer on the left barked, his hand moving to the hilt of a broadsword at his waist. "Are you blind, beggar? This is the Drunken Immortal Pavilion. Go beg for scraps in the back alleys. Take one more step, and I'll break your legs and feed you to the city dogs!"
Han Lin let out a long, weary sigh. It was so cliché, it almost hurt.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Instead, Han Lin simply released the spiritual pressure of his newly acquired Qi Condensation Level Three cultivation base.
For a cultivator in the Azure Cloud Sect, Level Three was barely enough to sweep the courtyards. But here, in the mortal realm, among ordinary humans and martial artists who merely cultivated internal energy (Qi), it was the equivalent of a mountain crashing down upon them.
*BOOM!*
An invisible wave of pure, heavy spiritual pressure exploded outward from Han Lin's body. The air around him shimmered and distorted. The ambient temperature plummeted.
The two burly bouncers, who were proud martial artists at the peak of the mortal realm's Houtian stage, didn't even have time to gasp. The crushing weight of Han Lin's aura slammed into their chests like a runaway horse carriage.
"Gah!"
Both men were thrown violently backward, their polearms clattering onto the marble steps. They hit the heavy wooden doors of the pavilion with a sickening thud, coughing up mouthfuls of fresh blood before sliding to the ground, their eyes wide with absolute, soul-crushing terror.
The bustling street suddenly went deathly silent. The arrogant merchants, the sneering young masters, the gossiping ladies—everyone froze, their haughty expressions replaced by mask-like looks of horror.
They felt it. The unnatural, suffocating pressure in the air. The undeniable aura of the Dao.
"I-Immortal Master!" someone in the crowd shrieked, instantly dropping to their knees.
Like dominoes falling, the entire street of wealthy elites collapsed to the ground, kowtowing so hard their foreheads hit the white stone pavement. The arrogant young master who had called for the guards was shaking so violently a dark stain spread across the front of his silk trousers.
Han Lin ignored them all. He looked down at the two bouncers, who were struggling to breathe under the lingering pressure of his aura.
"I am checking in," Han Lin said, his voice flat, devoid of anger, echoing with that unnatural spiritual resonance. "Does the Drunken Immortal Pavilion turn away guests who walk the path of heaven?"
"N-no! No, Exalted One! Please, spare our miserable lives!" A frantic voice shouted from inside the pavilion.
The heavy doors swung open, and a middle-aged man wearing an incredibly expensive robe embroidered with gold thread scrambled out. He was sweating profusely, his face pale as paper. This was the manager of the pavilion. He threw himself down the stairs and kowtowed right at Han Lin's dirt-stained boots.
"This lowly one is blind! This lowly one deserves death for failing to recognize Mount Tai!" the manager wailed, pressing his face against the marble. "Please, Exalted Immortal, grace our humble establishment! Everything is free! The Heaven-grade suite is yours! Just spare my pavilion!"
Han Lin retracted his aura, allowing the mortals to breathe again. He reached into his storage pouch. In the cultivation world, mortal currency was largely useless, but loose cultivators often carried a little bit of gold or silver for when they needed to deal with the mortal cities. Han Lin pulled out a single, solid gold ingot—worth enough to buy a small house in the outer city—and tossed it onto the ground next to the manager's head.
"I don't need your charity," Han Lin said coldly. "Prepare your best Heaven-grade suite. Draw a hot bath immediately. Send up your finest female attendants to assist my wife in bathing and dressing. Prepare a feast—the best spiritual meats and herbs you have in your kitchens. If anything is lacking, I will tear this building down to the foundations."
"Yes! Yes! Immediately, Exalted One!" The manager snatched up the gold ingot, his hands trembling. He scrambled to his feet and began screaming orders at the terrified staff inside.
Han Lin turned to Qingxue. She was staring at him, her mouth slightly open, completely dumbfounded. The powerful, wealthy mortals who had terrified her just moments ago were now groveling at their feet like beaten dogs. And the man holding her hand had caused it all without lifting a single finger.
"Let's go inside, Qingxue," Han Lin said, his voice softening entirely as he addressed her. "Your new life begins now."
The Heaven-grade suite on the top floor of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion was larger than Han Lin's entire spiritual farm back at the sect. It was divided into a lavish living area, a massive bedroom with a silk-draped bed large enough for five people, and a luxurious bathing chamber lined with fragrant cedar wood. The air was scented with expensive incense, and glowing pearls illuminated the room with a soft, warm light.
As soon as they entered, a team of four terrified, beautiful mortal maids rushed in, bowing deeply. They didn't dare look Han Lin in the eye, nor did they show a single ounce of disgust toward the filthy beggar girl.
"Exalted One, the bath is drawn. We are here to serve the Madam," the head maid said, her voice shaking slightly.
Han Lin nodded. He gently pushed Qingxue forward. She looked panicked, resisting his push.
"Husband... they... they are so clean..." she whispered, ashamed of her own filth.
"And soon, you will be too," Han Lin reassured her. "Go with them. Let them scrub the past away. I will wait here."
Reluctantly, Qingxue allowed the maids to lead her behind the ornate folding screens into the bathing chamber. Soon, the sound of splashing water and the gentle scrubbing of brushes filled the air.
Left alone in the grand living area, Han Lin finally let out a breath he felt like he'd been holding for an hour. He collapsed onto an incredibly plush, velvet-lined armchair and poured himself a cup of hot spirit tea from the jade teapot on the table.
As he sipped the tea, his mind raced. The adrenaline of his breakthrough and the face-slapping at the entrance was fading, replaced by the cold, calculating reality of his situation.
"System," Han Lin muttered.
Instantly, the familiar blue, semi-transparent screen materialized in his vision.
[ **Dao Companion Tenfold Return System** ]
[ **Host:** Han Lin ]
[ **Cultivation:** Qi Condensation Level 3 (Early Stage) ]
[ **Aptitude:** Five-Element Pseudo Spirit Root (Trash) ]
[ **Dao Companion 1:** Su Qingxue ]
[ **Aptitude:** Single Wood Heavenly Spirit Root (Supreme) ]
[ **Current Cultivation:** Mortal (Unawakened - Holding 100 Wood Qi) ]
Han Lin stared at the numbers. He was now Level Three. But the reality of his five-element root meant that his spiritual sea—the reservoir of energy in his dantian—was massive and incredibly difficult to fill. To progress from Level Three to Level Four, a normal cultivator with a three-element root might need a thousand units of Qi. Han Lin, with his five elements constantly diluting and conflicting with each other, would need five thousand units.
He was essentially a bottomless pit.
However, the System was the ultimate equalizer.
*If Qingxue meditates for one hour,* Han Lin calculated, his eyes gleaming in the dim light, *a Heavenly Root absorbs ambient Qi at roughly fifty times the speed of my five-element root. The system then multiplies whatever she absorbs by ten. That means, for every hour she cultivates, I receive five hundred hours' worth of cultivation.*
Five hundred hours. Almost twenty-one days of non-stop, perfect meditation for him, generated by her in a single hour.
It was utterly, absurdly broken.
But with immense power came immense danger. Han Lin's expression darkened as he set the teacup down.
*The Azure Cloud Sect.* Every five years, the sect sent Elder-level cultivators down to the mortal cities to test children for spirit roots. The next test was less than three months away. If Qingxue walked into that testing square, or if a passing Elder with high-level spiritual senses noticed the terrifyingly pure Wood Qi radiating from her body, it would be over.
The Sect would not politely ask Han Lin for permission. In the brutal, dog-eat-dog world of cultivation, a Heavenly Spirit Root was a strategic asset, a future Pillar of the Sect. They would snatch her away instantly. The Sect Master would take her as a direct disciple. She would be locked away in the inner peaks, heavily guarded, fed celestial pills, and completely cut off from the outside world to focus solely on her path to the Dao.
And Han Lin? He was a Level Three outer sect farmer. Best case scenario, the sect would toss him a few thousand spirit stones as compensation for "discovering" her and tell him to get lost. Worst case scenario, and far more likely, a jealous elder or an ambitious young master wanting to claim the Heavenly Root genius for himself would simply arrange for Han Lin to have a little "accident" in the fields, severing the worldly ties that might distract their new genius.
*I cannot let anyone know her aptitude,* Han Lin concluded grimly. *I need to hide it. I need a Spirit Obscuring Artifact. A high-tier one.*
But high-tier artifacts cost tens of thousands of spirit stones. He had two.
"I need to make money. Fast," Han Lin muttered. "And to make money, I need power. To get power, I need her to cultivate."
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the folding screen sliding back.
Han Lin looked up, and the breath caught in his throat.
The beggar girl who had looked like a feral rat an hour ago was gone. In her place stood a vision that made the grand, luxurious room seem dull by comparison.
The maids had scrubbed away layers of soot, mud, and grime. They had treated her bruises with a basic mortal healing salve. They had washed and brushed her matted hair until it fell down her back like a waterfall of midnight silk.
She was dressed in a simple, but exquisitely tailored, pale green silk dress that the manager had clearly rushed to procure. It hung slightly loose on her—she was still heartbreakingly thin from years of starvation—but it couldn't hide the underlying elegance of her bone structure.
Her skin, previously hidden beneath the dirt, was the color of pale moonlight, completely unblemished and radiating a faint, healthy glow courtesy of the Fasting Pill and the initial wisp of Wood Qi she had absorbed. Her large, obsidian eyes, no longer clouded by terror, looked around the room with a mixture of profound wonder and deep apprehension.
She possessed the kind of ethereal, untouched beauty that was legendary in the cultivation world—the true demeanor of a Heavenly Spirit Root. Even malnourished, she was a jade beauty in the making.
"Husband...?" Qingxue asked, her voice soft and uncertain, picking nervously at the silk sleeves of her dress. "Is... is this acceptable? The ladies said this was the best they had on short notice."
Han Lin stood up slowly. He had to remind himself that she was still just a traumatized fifteen-year-old girl who had been beaten for a steamed bun mere hours ago.
"You look beautiful, Qingxue," Han Lin said, keeping his voice warm and steady. He walked over to her. The maids bowed and quickly exited the room, leaving the two of them alone.
Qingxue blushed furiously, ducking her head. No one had ever called her beautiful. She had only ever been called 'rat', 'trash', or 'thief'.
Before she could process the compliment, the double doors of the suite swung open, and a line of waiters entered, carrying massive silver platters. The aroma of roasted meats, rich spices, and savory broths instantly flooded the room.
Qingxue's head snapped up, her obsidian eyes locking onto the food like a starving wolf.
The waiters quickly arranged the feast on the large circular table. There was a whole roasted Golden-Feathered Duck glazed in honey, a steaming porcelain bowl of Spirit-Ginseng Chicken Soup, platters of thinly sliced roast beef, stir-fried vegetables glistening with fragrant oil, and a mountain of fluffy, perfectly steamed white rice.
As soon as the waiters bowed and left, Han Lin gestured to the table. "Come. Sit. Eat as much as you want."
Qingxue didn't need to be told twice. She practically dove into the chair. She grabbed a pair of ivory chopsticks—she was surprisingly adept at using them—and began to eat.
At first, she ate with the frantic, terrifying speed of a street orphan afraid the food would vanish or be stolen. She shoved pieces of roasted duck and rice into her mouth, barely chewing, her cheeks bulging like a chipmunk's.
Han Lin sat across from her, not eating, just watching her with a gentle smile. He poured her a cup of warm water. "Slow down, Qingxue. Nobody is going to take it from you. There's enough food here to feed ten people. If you eat too fast, you'll make yourself sick."
Hearing his calm, reassuring voice, Qingxue paused. She looked at the mountain of food, then at Han Lin, who was looking at her without an ounce of judgment. Slowly, she swallowed the massive bite in her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over her lashes and dropping silently onto her silk dress.
She put down the chopsticks and suddenly slid off the chair, dropping to her knees on the plush carpet. She pressed her forehead against the floor in a deep, solemn kowtow.
"Husband..." she sobbed, her voice breaking. "Thank you. Thank you for this life. Qingxue swears to the heavens... I will be your faithful wife. I will serve you. I will protect you. Even if you ask me to die, I will not hesitate. My life belongs to you."
Han Lin felt a strange pang in his chest. He had initially approached this purely as a transaction—a way to exploit a game-breaking system. But looking at this broken, incredibly loyal girl offering him her very life for the price of a hot meal and a bath, he felt a genuine sense of responsibility settle over him.
He was a corporate drone in his past life, accustomed to using people to climb the ladder. But he wasn't a monster.
He stood up, walked around the table, and gently pulled her back to her feet, placing her back in her chair.
"I don't want you to die, Qingxue," Han Lin said softly, looking directly into her tear-filled eyes. "I want you to live. I want you to stand at the very pinnacle of this world with me. I promise you this: as long as I draw breath, you will never go hungry again. You will never be beaten again. Anyone who dares to look down on you will answer to my sword."
He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Now. Finish your dinner. Because tonight, your real journey begins."
An hour later, the feast was reduced to bones and empty bowls. Qingxue leaned back in her chair, a look of absolute, profound contentment on her face. She looked like she had finally found heaven.
"Are you full?" Han Lin asked, standing up.
"I have never been so full in my entire life, Husband," Qingxue replied, offering him a radiant, innocent smile that made his breath hitch slightly.
"Good. Because now, we begin your cultivation."
Han Lin led her to the massive bed. He sat cross-legged in the center and patted the space opposite him. "Come. Sit across from me. Mirror my posture."
Qingxue climbed onto the bed, her movements slightly awkward in the fine silk, and mirrored his cross-legged position. She rested her hands on her knees, palms facing upward.
"The breath you took in the alleyway was just an instinct," Han Lin explained, his tone shifting from gentle husband to stern master. "To truly walk the path of immortality, you must understand the method. I am going to teach you the complete first volume of the Azure Wood Arts."
It was a garbage-tier manual, but it was the only one Han Lin had. Fortunately, a Heavenly Root could turn garbage into gold.
"The human body has meridians, like rivers that carry water. Spiritual energy, or Qi, is the water. Right now, your rivers are dry," Han Lin lectured, reciting the theory he had painfully memorized over the last year. "The Azure Wood Arts teaches you how to open the floodgates. Close your eyes. Focus on your breathing. Visualize a seed of pure green light resting in your lower stomach—your dantian."
Qingxue closed her eyes. Her expression became intensely focused.
"I will recite the chant. Follow the flow of the words. Let your intent guide the air around you into that seed."
Han Lin began to chant the rhythmic, archaic verses of the Azure Wood Arts. The words were designed to resonate with the wood-attribute spiritual energy in the atmosphere.
As soon as he started, the atmosphere in the room changed.
The ambient spiritual energy in Cloudfall City was incredibly thin, almost non-existent compared to the spiritual peaks of a sect. But as Qingxue focused, her Heavenly Wood Spirit Root activated like a massive, invisible vortex.
It didn't just pull the wood qi from the room. It violently sucked it in from the streets outside, from the wooden beams of the pavilion, from the distant trees in the city parks.
A visible, swirling mist of emerald-green light began to manifest around Qingxue's body. It was so dense it looked like liquid jade. The mist seeped into her pores, traveling along her previously dormant meridians with zero resistance.
Where Han Lin's cultivation felt like dragging a boulder through a swamp, Qingxue's cultivation looked like a river flowing effortlessly downhill. Her Heavenly Root purified the energy instantly, converting the ambient aura into perfect, flawless Wood Qi and depositing it into her dantian.
Han Lin watched in absolute awe. *So this is the talent of a supreme genius. It's monstrous.*
Suddenly, the System panel exploded in his vision, flashing with a series of rapid, blindingly bright notifications.
*Ding!*
[ **Dao Companion Su Qingxue has completed one full cycle of the Azure Wood Arts.** ]
[ **Aptitude Multiplier applied (Heavenly Root).** ]
[ **Base EXP generated: 500 Wood Qi points.** ]
[ **Tenfold Return triggered!** ]
[ **Host receives: 5000 Pure, Converted Neutral Qi points!** ]
*Ding!*
[ **Dao Companion Su Qingxue has completed a second cycle...** ]
[ **Host receives: 5000 Pure, Converted Neutral Qi points!** ]
*Ding!*
[ **Dao Companion Su Qingxue has initiated continuous cultivation trance. EXP stream activated.** ]
Han Lin didn't even have time to shout before the energy hit him.
It wasn't a river this time. It was an ocean.
Tens of thousands of points of perfectly pure, system-converted spiritual energy flooded into his dantian in a continuous, roaring tidal wave. The energy was completely neutral, perfectly tailored by the system to nourish all five of his chaotic spiritual roots simultaneously without conflict.
His body jerked violently. His eyes rolled back into his head.
The pain was excruciating. His narrow, brittle meridians, accustomed to the trickle of a five-element root, were suddenly being forced to accommodate the raging floodwaters of a Heavenly Root's tenfold return. It felt like his veins were being inflated with molten iron.
But beneath the agony was a profound, world-shaking ecstasy.
His bottleneck for the Fourth Level of Qi Condensation, which he had assumed would take him another three years to reach, was obliterated in seconds.
*CRACK!*
The sound of his breakthrough was louder this time, echoing in the room. A shockwave of energy rattled the teacups on the table and made the glowing pearls flicker.
Han Lin gasped for air, his skin flushed bright red, sweat pouring down his face. "Level... Level Four..."
But the energy didn't stop. Qingxue, deep in her cultivation trance, was completely oblivious to his suffering. Her face was serene, bathed in the gentle green light as she greedily devoured the surrounding aura.
*Ding!*
*Ding!*
*Ding!*
The system notifications continued to chime like a frantic bell. The returned energy kept pouring in, faster and faster.
Han Lin grit his teeth, forcing himself into a meditative posture to guide the rampaging energy. He directed the flood toward his bones, his organs, expanding his spiritual sea, reinforcing his foundation. He was experiencing the kind of rapid growth that only the most pampered young masters of supreme sects experienced when consuming legendary heavenly pills.
Minutes turned into hours. The moon climbed high into the night sky, casting a silvery glow through the silk-draped windows of the pavilion.
Inside the room, the storm of spiritual energy raged on.
*CRACK!*
Another barrier shattered.
Han Lin threw his head back, a silent scream dying in his throat as his aura violently expanded once more.
Level Five of Qi Condensation.
He had skipped two entire realms in a single night. He had crossed from the early stages of Qi Condensation into the mid-stages. The sheer volume of spiritual energy contained within his newly expanded dantian was terrifying. He felt like he could shatter a boulder with a single punch, or summon a Wind Blade large enough to slice a building in half.
As dawn approached, the first rays of sunlight piercing the horizon, the furious vortex of green light surrounding Qingxue finally began to calm. The ambient spiritual energy in a three-mile radius around the Drunken Immortal Pavilion had been completely drained, sucked dry by her terrifying aptitude.
Slowly, the emerald mist faded into her skin.
Qingxue opened her eyes. They flashed with a profound, vibrant green light before settling back into their deep obsidian color. A powerful, unmistakable aura radiated from her small frame.
She had officially stepped onto the path of immortality. She had reached the First Level of Qi Condensation in a single night—a feat that defied logic and reason.
She looked across the bed at Han Lin.
Han Lin opened his eyes at the same time. The chaotic, exhausted aura of the loose cultivator was gone. His eyes were sharp, deep, and thrumming with hidden power. He exhaled a long breath, a visible stream of white mist shooting three feet from his mouth before dissipating.
He looked at his system panel.
[ **Host:** Han Lin ]
[ **Cultivation:** Qi Condensation Level 5 (Early Stage) ]
He looked at the beautiful girl sitting across from him, who was staring at him with absolute reverence.
The corners of Han Lin's mouth slowly curled upward into a fierce, ambitious smile.
"Good morning, Wife," Han Lin said softly. "It seems we are going to need a lot more spirit stones."