The sun dipped low, casting a warm, orange glow through the swaying leaves, painting Devor in hues of gold. He sat cross-legged on the soft grass, his face calm but focused, as though in perfect harmony with the vast expanse of the Azure Sky Sect’s Spiritual Garden stretching before him.

  This was no ordinary garden. Spanning 25 square kilometers, it was one of ten sacred gardens in the Outer Sect. Each plot was like a world unto itself, teeming with life and pulsing with boundless energy, nearly the size of a small village.

  Devor had been entrusted with the care of five such plots—a rare honor, given only to those proven capable and reliable. Alongside him, six other cultivators, including Yulin and Liara, worked tirelessly to maintain the delicate balance of this sacred place.

  Tending the garden wasn’t just a task; it was an art. It demanded deep knowledge, skill, and a finely honed Spiritual Sense. Without these, failure was certain.

  In just two years, Devor had surged ahead of his peers, mastering the garden’s secrets and even surpassing some senior cultivators. Born a mortal, he had pushed beyond every limitation, turning obstacles into stepping stones through sheer determination.

  Now, with his Spiritual Sense fully developed, Devor could study the plants with extraordinary precision, sensing even the slightest shifts in their energy.

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  Devor’s meditative focus locked onto the hundred-square-meter plot before him. Each leaf and petal shimmered faintly, releasing soft sparks of ethereal light into the air. The garden seemed to sway gently, as if moved by an unseen melody carried on the breeze.

  Slowly, Devor opened his eyes. His Spiritual Sense reached out, attuned to the gentle waves of energy radiating from the plants. The soft green luminescence and silver shimmer danced in the air like fireflies, weaving a serene tapestry around him.

  He took a deep breath and activated the Essence of Nature Cultivation Technique, a method he had meticulously refined over time. At his command, the surrounding energy responded, flowing toward him in smooth, harmonious streams that blended seamlessly with his aura.

  The energy coursed through his meridians, warm and soothing, like morning dew revitalizing dry earth. In his mind, it felt alive—gentle, yet brimming with the potential for profound transformation.

  With practiced ease, Devor guided the energy through his body, following the pathways of his cultivation technique. A soft, golden glow began to emanate from him, a sign that the process was flowing smoothly.

  Once the energy stabilized, Devor opened his palm and directed a portion of it back into the garden.

  A stream of golden-green light flowed from his hand, gently washing over the plants. Their once-dull petals brightened, colors deepening into vibrant hues, while the leaves swayed, as if expressing silent gratitude.

  A small smile tugged at Devor’s lips. A quiet sense of fulfillment settled over him.

  “They give me strength, and I help them flourish in return. A perfect cycle,” he thought, his gaze lingering on the revitalized plants.

  Devor wasn’t one to linger. He closed his eyes again, deepening his Spiritual Sense, letting it stretch further into the garden. This time, he didn’t just observe the energy—he felt it, as if the plants themselves were whispering their gratitude.

  The process became a silent dance of harmony and connection. Time seemed to slow as Devor immersed himself in the ebb and flow of energy, sensing the pulse of life in every stem, leaf, and root.

  When he finally opened his eyes, the sun had set, and the garden was bathed in the cool, silver glow of moonlight.

  Devor exhaled slowly, a calm settling over him. "The progress is steady," he thought, his faint smile tinged with determination. "It’s a small step, but with time, this technique will be perfected."

  The weight of his grandfather’s passing still lingered in his heart, but cultivation had become his refuge. His grief had transformed into a quiet strength, driving his resolve to grow ever stronger.

  As he prepared to delve deeper into the Ultimate Synthesis Technique, a subtle shift in the air pulled him from his focus. His Spiritual Sense picked up faint footsteps approaching in the distance.

  Devor’s eyes opened, calm but alert. A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping cautiously into view. It was Forly, his junior and one of his trusted assistants. The young man stopped a few paces away and bowed deeply.

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  "Greetings, Senior," Forly said respectfully. "Senior Wulin has come to visit."

  Devor nodded, his expression softening slightly as he offered a rare, brief smile. "Thank you, Forly."

  He rose smoothly, brushing off his robes, the light blue fabric catching the moonlight with a faint shimmer. Without another word, he began walking toward the garden's entrance, his footsteps measured and steady.

  The Spiritual Garden was one of the most sacred places in the Outer Sect. Only those with the proper authorization could step onto its grounds, and even the most senior disciples treated it with reverence.

  As Devor made his way to the entrance, the gentle rustling of the plants seemed to follow him, like a silent farewell from the garden he so diligently cared for.

  After a short walk, he reached the entrance, with Forly close behind.

  The entrance was marked by a modest yet elegant fifty-meter-wide building. Its simple design radiated warmth and order, reflecting the Azure Sky Sect’s balanced philosophy of beauty and practicality.

  Surrounding the building, vibrant flowers and lush greenery created an inviting atmosphere. The fragrant aroma of the blossoms greeted all who approached, offering a sense of calm and serenity.

  Near one of the round stone tables, five chairs were neatly arranged. Seated at the table was a man who exuded quiet composure. His long hair cascaded down his back, and he wore the Azure Sky Sect’s signature light blue robe, adorned with subtle embroidery. This was Wulin, the cultivator Forly had mentioned. Standing beside him were two others—a man and a woman—both radiating a calm but formidable presence.

  As Devor approached, Wulin rose gracefully from his seat, his companions following suit.

  "Fellow Daoist Devor," Wulin greeted, clasping his hands and offering a slight bow. His companions mirrored the gesture with practiced ease.

  Devor returned the gesture with equal respect, clasping his fists and bowing slightly. "Greetings, Senior Brother Wulin." Forly, standing just behind Devor, quickly followed suit, bowing in unison.

  "There’s no need for formalities," Wulin said with a warm smile. "You may simply call me Wulin."

  Devor shook his head politely. "I’ve still got a long way to go before I can address you as an equal, Senior."

  Wulin’s expression softened, a flicker of quiet approval in his eyes. It was rare to find such humility and composure in someone so young, especially in the world of cultivators. By addressing Devor as a Fellow Daoist, Wulin had extended a notable mark of respect, treating him as a peer despite the gap in their cultivation levels.

  Behind them, Forly watched in quiet awe. For Devor, still in the Qi Refining Realm, to receive such recognition from a Foundation Building cultivator was nothing short of remarkable.

  "I’ve brought what you requested," Wulin said, reaching into the folds of his robe and pulling out a small, unassuming cloth pouch.

  "That was fast," Devor remarked, his brows lifting slightly in surprise.

  With a casual toss, Wulin sent the pouch through the air. Devor caught it effortlessly, immediately probing its contents with his Spiritual Sense. Inside were five glowing Spiritual Plant Seeds, each radiating potent Fire Qi.

  A satisfied smile spread across Devor’s face. He reached into his robes and pulled out a beast-skin pouch about the size of a child’s head. With practiced ease, he handed it to Wulin.

  Wulin inspected the pouch with his Spiritual Sense. Inside was an assortment of rare Spiritual Plants that Devor had carefully cultivated. The pouch itself was a size-reducing artifact, designed to shrink its contents for easier storage—an invaluable tool for cultivators engaged in trade.

  Nodding in approval, Wulin gestured to the woman at his side. She stepped forward and handed Devor two identical size-reducing pouches.

  "Two?" Devor asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

  Wulin smiled knowingly. "I have a friend in the Blazing Fire Sect who helped me procure these. As your senior, I can’t take advantage of a junior like you, especially in a trade."

  Devor had always maintained a rule in his dealings: buyers had to provide their own size-reducing pouches to ensure smooth transactions. Wulin’s gesture of offering more than required spoke volumes about his character.

  "Thank you, Senior," Devor said, clasping his fists in gratitude.

  Wulin tucked the beast-skin pouch into his robe, a curious smile playing on his lips. "Don’t you ever tire of tending this garden, Devor? Surely you deserve a break now and then."

  Devor’s smile softened. "The garden is my sanctuary, Senior. The Heavenly and Earthly Spiritual Qi here strengthens my cultivation. Its stillness brings me peace."

  Wulin chuckled lightly. "Fair enough. Still, if you ever feel like wandering beyond these grounds, my Cultivation Cave is always open. I can provide you with some Cultivation Pills if you need them."

  "I appreciate the offer, Senior," Devor replied, his tone respectful but warm.

  Over the past two years, Devor had naturally built connections with disciples in various specialties, including Alchemy. Every month, he met the sect’s Spiritual Plant quota, and any surplus he cultivated was his to trade. This system was part of the Azure Sky Sect’s philosophy, teaching its disciples the realities of the Cultivation World and encouraging them to build their own networks.

  With their exchange complete, Wulin and his companions began to take their leave. Before turning away, Wulin gave Devor one last glance. "Keep up the good work, Fellow Daoist. Your dedication is rare and will serve you well."

  Devor inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you, Senior. Safe travels."

  As Wulin and his companions disappeared down the path, Forly looked at Devor, his eyes filled with admiration. "Senior Devor, how do you always manage to impress even Foundation Building cultivators?"

  Devor glanced at Forly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "It’s not about impressing others, Forly. It’s about doing your best with the responsibilities you’re given. The rest follows naturally."

  Forly nodded thoughtfully, considering his senior’s words.

  Devor turned back to the Spiritual Garden, the familiar scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers filling his senses. To him, the garden wasn’t just a duty—it was a sanctuary, a place where he could cultivate not only his strength but also his spirit.