Yin Jiuxiao stared at Lin Qinghen for a long time, his mind filled with unspoken thoughts.

It seemed that Lin Qinghen was full of surprises. Just when he thought he’d figured him out, something new would emerge, drawing him in even deeper. It was as if this person had hooks all over him—once you got snagged, there was no escape.

And honestly, Yin Jiuxiao didn’t want to escape.

But just as he was lost in his thoughts, Lin Qinghen, as if sensing something in his sleep, suddenly muttered softly, calling out “Jiuxiao” a few times in a hazy, dream-like voice. His voice, already soothing, sounded even softer now.

Then, still half-asleep, Lin Qinghen tilted his head back slightly, reaching out to pull Yin Jiuxiao’s neck closer. The slender line of his neck was fully exposed under Yin Jiuxiao’s gaze.

Yin Jiuxiao’s breathing changed instantly.

For a second, he wondered if Lin Qinghen was actually unconscious; how could someone be asleep and still be this…provocative?

So, as the vengeful Sword Master he was, he decided to get back at Lin Qinghen for biting his hand earlier. He took advantage of the situation, paying Lin Qinghen back double, nipping at his neck and lips while the other lay there defenseless, still dazed.

Yin Jiuxiao felt completely justified.

After all, what harm in kissing his own spouse? And besides, Lin Qinghen had lied to him earlier, taking that strange pill without a word of explanation. Yin Jiuxiao hadn’t even punished him for that. Lin Qinghen, half-asleep, seemed vaguely annoyed by the attention and let out a soft whine, weakly trying to push him away.

But watching him like this, Yin Jiuxiao’s heart softened. What started as amusement turned into something else entirely, and he found himself at a loss over how to handle him.

And given that Lin Qinghen was clearly uncomfortable after taking the pill, Yin Jiuxiao decided not to push further. Lin Qinghen wasn’t responding much anyway, making it feel a bit lacking. He settled for simply holding him close, not doing anything more.

With the big shift that had just happened within the Yin family, Yin Jiuxiao was also considering a lot of things, including whether he should reveal his true strength.

Lin Qinghen was making moves step by step, not just focusing on self-improvement but also taking the first steps to expand his influence. Naturally, Yin Jiuxiao wouldn’t sit idle.

He had his own plans as well. Once Lei City’s situation stabilized, he figured it’d be time for him to step into the spotlight too.

And so, they spent the night side by side until dawn.

When Lin Qinghen woke up in the morning, his body ached all over, though it felt strangely comfortable. He didn’t remember much of what had happened after taking the pill last night, nor did he care—it was in the past, after all.

First things first, he moved around a bit to test his spirit power. Not bad; Yellow Tier Seven Star was a decent level, enough to match an ordinary person’s standard and no longer weak.

Then, he got out of bed and found a mirror.

Noticing that the birthmark on half of his face had faded, he was momentarily taken aback. Covering one side of his face, he examined the now-clear half carefully.

Honestly, it looked kind of familiar.

It was somewhat similar to his appearance in his past life, though this version was even more refined. When he lowered his hand, the contrast between the two sides made his face look slightly eerie—a mix of divine and demonic.

Either way, Lin Qinghen decided he wouldn’t be wearing a mask anymore. He’d already cut it up, and wearing it wasn’t comfortable anyway. Let people look if they wanted to; if others were spooked, that was their problem, not his.

Choosing to take the antidote pill at this timing instead of immediately was part of Lin Qinghen’s plan.

He knew that the antidote would visibly reduce the birthmark, so he’d shown his original appearance to others first, letting them see him with the birthmark intact.

With his spirit power surging and the birthmark fading in just one night, people would naturally notice this improvement.

As for the reason behind it, he didn’t need to explain a thing. Let them speculate as wildly as they liked—the more mysterious and profound they thought he was, the better.

Since he’d decided to step into the limelight, he needed to reveal more about himself and strip away the old image of a “good-for-nothing.” Only then would people start seeing him as someone remarkable.

It was a small push, but useful.

But aside from his face, as he looked down, he noticed red marks all over his neck.

Puzzled, he frowned. Had he rubbed his neck in his sleep from the pain last night?

He couldn’t figure it out, but there wasn’t much time to dwell on it either. Yin Jiuxiao was still asleep, so he hadn’t had a chance to ask him before Yu Yinyin entered, calling his name as she walked through the door. “Qinghen, the Alchemist Association—”

But then she saw Lin Qinghen’s face, and her words caught in her throat.

“You…”

“It’s fine. The birthmark’s fading because the poison in my body is slowly being neutralized. Same as last time—you’ve seen it before, no need to worry,” Lin Qinghen reassured her before asking directly, “Is someone from the Alchemist Association here?”

Yu Yinyin let out a breath. She couldn’t care less about the Alchemist Association for the moment and went straight to checking Lin Qinghen’s condition. Just as he’d said, it was like what she’d witnessed back in the Lin family.

She’d experienced it herself then—Lin Qinghen’s body was recovering in stages.

It was a good thing, no doubt, but…

Noticing her confusion, Lin Qinghen said softly, “Don’t worry, Master. I know exactly what’s happening with my body.”

Yu Yinyin had no reason not to believe him. Lin Qinghen had kept her informed about many crucial things, and she trusted him without question.

Still, she hadn’t expected that a half-restored face would give Lin Qinghen such a striking, alluring look.

Good looks were indeed an advantage. His gaze was calm and steady, and when he blinked and looked at her quietly, she was left speechless—someone who already had a soft spot for him.

If Lin Qinghen continued to recover and his face fully healed, then in the future…

Just then, Yin Jiuxiao, who had quietly woken up and was sitting on the bed, noticed Yu Yinyin’s strange look of sympathy and complexity as she glanced his way, though he didn’t know why.

Since the Alchemist Association had already arrived, the three of them didn’t say much else and quickly got ready to head out.

Lin Qinghen covered the marks on his neck with a high-collared shirt, putting business first.

Today’s meeting wasn’t held in the Discipline Hall but in the main reception hall.

The Yin family hadn’t used this grand reception hall in ages, but today, it was clearly set up for a more formal occasion.

Yin Hengxie, having recovered somewhat overnight, looked visibly different from before. He sat at the head seat with a distant, composed expression that made him appear colder and more dignified.

But the moment he saw Lin Qinghen enter, his expression cracked just a bit.

Since yesterday, the Yin family had clearly gotten sharper; Lin Qinghen and Yin Jiuxiao were seated just below Yin Hengxie, right where the true Young Master and his wife should be.

Yu Yinyin’s seat was nearby as well. With Xu Yaoyang dead, the elder’s seat had been freed up, so they’d made some adjustments to accommodate her.

Lin Qinghen was here for business, but the moment he sat down, he could feel every eye in the room glued to him, plunging the hall into an almost oppressive silence.

It didn’t really bother him—he’d been stared at like this yesterday, after all—but today, the stares felt different.

As Lin Qinghen sat, slightly turned to the side, some of the younger ones nearby caught sight of his unmarked half-face. A few turned noticeably red.

Lin Qinghen noticed this and frowned.

What the hell is wrong with them?

Weren’t they looking at him like he was some kind of ghost yesterday? What’s with the blushing now?

Annoyed by the constant staring, he finally spoke up, “What are you all looking at?”

Yesterday’s events had clearly established Lin Qinghen’s authority. At his words, some of them flinched and instinctively lowered their heads.

But a few bold ones at the side kept sneaking glances, and this time it was Yin Jiuxiao who felt annoyed.

With careful maneuvering, he shifted closer, angling himself to block that side of Lin Qinghen’s face from view.

Lin Qinghen didn’t mind Yin Jiuxiao’s little antics and immediately turned his attention to the representatives from the Alchemist Association.

Mu Jiu was here today, though he remained still, seemingly meditating. As usual, it was one of the honored members who spoke.

“Young Master’s Wife…”

Lin Qinghen wasn’t used to being called “wife” and cut him off immediately. “Call me Young Master. It sounds better to me.”

“Young Master,” the honored member quickly corrected, glancing over his face, “Your birthmark…”

Aside from the birthmark, they could sense that Lin Qinghen’s spirit power had increased significantly—almost overnight. It was puzzling, to say the least.

“If it’s something you don’t need to know, then don’t ask,” Lin Qinghen shot him a glance, “Let’s talk business.”

The honored member, unnerved by his response, lowered his head and exchanged a look with Mu Jiu before shifting to business. “The Association has no objections to the cooperation you proposed. We’ve brought the Gathering Origin Spirit Stones. Now, about the Red Round Wheat and Ruo Rong Grass, will you hand them over?”

Red Round Wheat was already under an alliance oath, so Lin Qinghen handed over the seeds as promised.

He wasn’t worried about giving up the seeds; the oath was clear—they couldn’t resell them, but Die Meng could still cultivate them.

The Alchemist Association had yet to realize that he was operating on two fronts, constantly reducing the production time for Homeostasis Powder. Soon, the entire Alchemist Association in Lei City wouldn’t be able to match his production rate.

Without the Bee Crystal Butterflies, they’d always lag in quality and quantity. Even with the seeds, they couldn’t compete with Die Meng.

Getting the Red Round Wheat seeds was just the first step; the other, more coveted resource was even harder to secure.

“As for the Ruo Rong Grass,” Lin Qinghen drawled, “Even if you had the seeds, they’d be useless. The improvement process doesn’t rely on seeds.”

Since Lin Qinghen was the only one with the method to improve the soil, knowing the precise formula ratios was a secret only he held. Unlike Red Round Wheat, having the seeds alone wasn’t enough. This foundation was rock solid.

And it wasn’t a one-time thing; every crop cycle required a fresh formulation.

Lin Qinghen had discovered during his last experiment that each spirit plant had subtle variations in soil and reagent requirements—it wasn’t one-size-fits-all.

He had even added some misleading ingredients to the formula; even if others knew about the special reagent or analyzed it directly, they wouldn’t be able to replicate it.

It was too fine-tuned; aside from Lin Qinghen, with his natural affinity, no one else in the Spirit World could reach this level.

In other words, a steady supply would mean Lin Qinghen would always be indispensable. His role would be irreplaceable.

People who benefited from this arrangement would have no choice but to keep Lin Qinghen, their “money tree,” in good standing—this was the foundation for all his future plans, and he knew he’d be just fine.

Author’s Note:

Lin Qinghen: Blushing? Why blushing? Is there really any hope for the Yin family?