Lauren clicked her tongue. Of course. This guy had seen treasures from the Upper Realm. Why would he be impressed by beginner pills?

  “Fine,” she said. “Then tell me—what’s so amazing about pills from the Upper Realm?”

  “High-grade pills can be consumed freely without building up pill poison in the body. Yours have too many impurities.”

  Lauren looked conflicted.

  It wasn’t like she’d scked off. This was the level recorded in the sect’s inheritance manuals. What was she supposed to do—reinvent alchemy from scratch?

  She waved it off. “Whatever. It’s good enough for now. If I fail to ascend ter, I’ll have plenty of time to practice.”

  “If I do ascend,” she added, eyes gleaming, “even better. I’ll go to the Upper Realm and learn properly. Especially talisman drawing.”

  This time, she’d drawn a sixth-grade talisman effortlessly—and even produced a top-grade one. She could clearly feel it: she was right on the verge of seventh grade.

  One more push, and she’d be able to draw seventh-grade talismans.

  “I want to go out for a while,” she said suddenly.

  Edmund looked up. “What now? Can’t sit still again?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’m close to peak Nascent Soul, but I haven’t comprehended my domain yet. Let’s go to the Far North again. It’s a good pce.”

  Edmund frowned. “Very few people comprehend a domain at the Nascent Soul stage. Wait until Spirit Severing. It’ll be much more effective. Stop running around and focus on cultivation.”

  Lauren’s lips tightened. “Cultivate, cultivate—everything with you is cultivation. I swear, you’re obsessed with reaching the heavens. Even Master said I’m progressing too fast. He’s worried my mental state can’t keep up.”

  Edmund studied her for a long moment. “Your mental state is unstable.”

  Lauren: “…”

  Why did that sound like it had yers?

  “I’m going to see my master.”

  She stormed up to Starfell Summit. As usual, Drake had sealed himself inside his hall. Only when he heard his disciple requesting an audience did the doors slowly open.

  “What is it?”

  Lauren stepped forward. “Master, do you think it’s better for me to reach Spirit Severing before I turn thirty… or after?”

  Drake actually paused to think.

  “In the history of the cultivation world, those who reach Nascent Soul before thirty are already considered extraordinary talents. Those who reach Spirit Severing before thirty are rarer still.” He looked at her. “You only entered the sect at thirteen—that’s retively te. If you advance to Spirit Severing before thirty, it will draw too much attention.”

  He didn’t say it outright, but she understood.

  He wanted her to advance after thirty.

  “Disciple understands.”

  “Good.” Drake nodded. “Travel for a while. Your cultivation needs improvement, yes—but your state of mind must keep pace.”

  When she returned, she immediately decred to Edmund, “See? Master understands bance. He doesn’t demand I cultivate until I drop dead and turn into some machine that only knows how to train.”

  Edmund stared at her. “Are you implying I’m too strict?”

  Lauren grinned and flicked one of his small dragon horns with her finger.

  Edmund jerked back awkwardly. “Talk if you’re going to talk. Don’t hit me.”

  She ughed softly. “I get how you feel. Really. But I’ve been thinking—it’s not like I have to be the one who ascends for you to return to the heavens. As long as someone ascends, you can go back too, right?”

  “Yes,” Edmund admitted. “But I don’t know if others can withstand it. After thinking it over… your chances are higher.”

  Lauren blinked. “Why?”

  “Call it a feeling. Mysterious. Elusive. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “…Are you cursing my master to fail?”

  “No.” Edmund shook his head. “He still has a chance. Many people in this cultivation world have a chance to ascend.”

  He looked at her steadily.

  “But none of them have your chance.”

  Lauren narrowed her eyes. “Old dragon, are you pying me? Is that your excuse for clinging to me all this time?”

  Edmund merely huffed.

  “Forget it,” she said. “I’m going to check on Wayne. Are you coming?”

  “They’re not on the mountain.”

  Lauren stopped short. “What do you mean not on the mountain? Where did that flower fairy take Wayne?”

  “Wayne is more mature than children his age,” Edmund said calmly. “But he’s still a child. He can’t sit indoors cultivating for months like you. After a few hours of practice, he wants to py. After staying on the mountain too long, he wants to go out. That’s normal.”

  Lauren rubbed her temples. “Wayne is normal. Of course he is. But Briar isn’t. With that damn appearance, what if someone captures it for alchemy?”

  Edmund snorted. “Even a starved camel is bigger than a horse. Do you really think Briar is easy prey?”

  That only made her more anxious.

  She grabbed Edmund by the colr and rushed down the mountain.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  “That’s exactly the problem!” she snapped. “It’s not a vegetarian. If someone tries to capture it for pill refining, it’s definitely going to start eating people.”

  This wasn’t about good or evil.

  When survival is on the line, everything alive will bare its fangs.

  Lauren rushed down the mountain and found Wayne in the Thunder Sect’s marketpce.

  “Where’s Briar?”

  Edmund’s voice drifted zily from beside her. “The one Wayne’s holding.”

  Lauren blinked. “That’s Briar?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  She stared at the two small figures from behind.

  It looked like an older brother leading his little sister through the market—so damn adorable it made her chest ache.

  Why a little sister?

  Because Briar was wearing a tiny floral hat and a matching little flowered dress. Its branch-like feet were tucked neatly into cute little shoes, and its hands were covered in dainty gloves. From the back, it really did look like a shy little girl.

  Lauren let out a slow breath.

  Seems like I worried for nothing. Who the hell would kidnap such a cute little girl and throw her into an alchemy furnace?

  “Wayne.”

  Wayne heard her and turned around at once. “Miss Lauren.”

  She smiled and walked over.

  Then Briar turned too.

  Lauren nearly choked.

  “Briar—what the hell happened to your face?”

  Briar’s cheeks were… white.

  Not pale. White. Powdered white.

  It flushed instinctively—except the blush showed awkwardly through the yer of makeup. Something inside its tiny shoe wriggled nervously. With a sharp rip, the shoe split open, and a tree root poked out.

  Briar froze, mortified.

  Lauren rubbed her forehead and patted its shoulder. “Calm down. There are people everywhere.”

  “Yes, yes. My face…” Briar stammered. “God Venerable said it was too red, so he put powder on it.”

  Lauren’s lips twitched violently. She turned to Edmund.

  “You put powder on it?”

  “Yes.”

  So that chalky mess was his doing.

  “Why?”

  Before Edmund could answer, Wayne reached into his storage pouch and took out a basket of eggs. “We’re going to sell these at the restaurant ahead.”

  “Sell eggs?” Lauren looked at Briar. “You’re not eating them?”

  “I don’t eat eggs,” Briar said earnestly. “We can use the spirit stones to buy monster meat. Or trade directly. I’m not picky. Rotten monster meat is fine.”

  Lauren stared at it.

  She had been terrified it would go feral and start eating people.

  Instead, it was raising chickens, selling eggs, and bartering politely for discounted meat.

  What the hell.

  She followed them quietly and watched as Wayne handed over the basket of eggs. The restaurant owner weighed them, nodded, and exchanged them for a sizable bundle of slightly stale monster meat.

  Lauren’s mouth twitched again.

  This… actually works?