Even though he couldn’t put the new Spirit Plant System to immediate use, having a few extra cards up his sleeve certainly wouldn’t hurt. Who would ever complain about having more good stuff on hand?

Lin Qinghen was always incredibly organized, setting small goals for himself each period and doing whatever it took to achieve them. Once he reached a goal, he’d swiftly move on to the next, never wasting time or dwelling on the past. He didn’t even bother to savor his achievements, as if he was always on the road to greater things. After all, his current accomplishments were still a long way from his ultimate vision.

With that in mind, he crafted a detailed plan based on his current situation and needs, living each day with a clear and disciplined routine. About half of his time was spent mixing medicinal concoctions and occasionally guiding Lin Yunsi, while the rest went into testing new spirit plants to see which ones could benefit from his methods, one by one.

Lin Qinghen also took this opportunity to experiment with some of his recent theories. He initially thought of testing his methods on higher-level plants to see if they’d work on Mysterious-Level spirit plants. Unfortunately, they didn’t. These higher-tier plants, which could thrive even in the polluted soil of Bei Zhou, had much greater tolerance. The difference between Mysterious-Level and Yellow-Level was vast—almost worlds apart. Some Mysterious-Level spirit plants even had their own distinct consciousness and reasoning abilities, making them harder to influence and far less susceptible to mimicry.

When Lin Qinghen tried increasing the ratio of Demonic Qi to provoke mutations, the Qi quickly became uncontrollable, displaying a more aggressive and unpredictable nature. Lin Qinghen himself almost lost control, and the Mysterious-Level spirit plants proved far more complicated than their Yellow-Level counterparts. This method just wouldn’t work.

In the Spirit World, there was no such thing as a one-size-fits-all solution. But since he’d achieved some breakthroughs with Yellow-Level plants, that alone was a significant success. He wasn’t in a hurry to conquer everything all at once; patience would lead the way.

Lin Yunsi, however, found Lin Qinghen’s experiments quite terrifying. His dedication was unimaginable, like he was risking his life. At only a Yellow-Level Seven Star, Lin Qinghen required an incredibly high concentration of Demonic Qi to elicit a reaction from Mysterious-Level plants, and when the soil’s natural concentration wasn’t enough, he had to bother Yin Jiuxiao to get more.

The Demonic Qi was notably aggressive, and after several rounds of experiments, Lin Qinghen had been stung countless times. Though the minor attacks weren’t enough to activate his protective spiritual devices, the Qi’s corrosion was intensely painful. Lin Yunsi could only watch as Lin Qinghen’s hands became bruised and sometimes even bloody, with wounds that resembled fine pinpricks, caused entirely by the Demonic Qi.

It was as if he was immune to pain. Despite knowing how much it hurt, he continued testing again and again, only giving up once he was absolutely certain the method wouldn’t work.

“Nope,” he muttered to himself as he applied some ointment absentmindedly, “time to try a new approach.”

Lin Yunsi, who had only tried it once, backed out after realizing how painful it was. He was coming to understand that everyone’s achievements came with their own costs; Lin Qinghen’s keen memory, sharp mind, and ruthless methods were just part of his relentless drive.

Over the past month, working alongside Lin Qinghen had helped Lin Yunsi mature, adding a layer of steadiness to his character.

But Lin Qinghen wasn’t without his own troubles.

Things were different from before. Now that he held a more prominent position, he didn’t have the same quiet environment for research as he once did. Recently, it seemed like everyone wanted a piece of his time.

The people over at Die Meng understood his temperament, and Yu Yinyin managed most affairs, only bringing him the most crucial matters and keeping it brief, so he wouldn’t be burdened with trivialities. But the Yin family and the Alchemist Association? They had no such awareness.

Since Lin Qinghen had handled so many decisions personally, every time something went wrong at the Plantation, they’d come running to him, bombarding him with questions and demands. He was utterly fed up and decided not to see anyone.

He’d already taught them thoroughly; if there were any issues, Die Meng’s people were always around to answer questions. In his eyes, if Yu Yinyin hadn’t relayed any major issues, then there weren’t any.

He grew quiet, almost reclusive, as if the Lin Qinghen who had charged ahead was nothing but a mirage. When the persistent messengers pestered him, he’d just throw out a quick “handle it yourself!” as a reply.

Whether or not anyone else was happy with this, Yin Jiuxiao certainly was. With Lin Qinghen right by his side, not running off anywhere, what could be better?

While Lin Qinghen was engrossed in his research, Yin Jiuxiao would attend to his own work, even lending a hand when Lin Yunsi wasn’t around. Besides, Lin Qinghen wasn’t as deeply absorbed in his research as before. A few tender words from Yin Jiuxiao were often enough to draw him away, and the two shared plenty of intimate moments.

Not that others didn’t suffer for their closeness. Wei Lin had been standing guard outside the courtyard, tirelessly turning people away. Following Lin Qinghen’s instructions, he’d tell anyone who came by that Lin Qinghen wasn’t around. Even when Mu Jiu came by, Wei Lin used the same excuse, only for Mu Jiu to catch him in the lie.

“I already checked,” Mu Jiu said with a displeased look. “Lin Shaodongjia isn’t at Die Meng, and no one in the city has seen him. He’s definitely here. What’s he doing hiding away when things are finally underway and everyone’s busy?”

Wei Lin, unsure what to say, knew he couldn’t take a hard stance with Mu Jiu and cautiously replied, “Well, he’s been really busy lately, so he deserves a bit of rest… Besides, these past few days, Lin Shaodongjia has been, uh, keeping our Young Master company.”

Mu Jiu was dumbfounded. “What? With everything going on, he’s staying with Yin Jiuxiao?”

Wei Lin fumbled, “Young couples, you know… Us older folks don’t get it. Please be understanding, President Mu.”

Though Mu Jiu saw through the stalling, he couldn’t get past Wei Lin and eventually left in a huff.

Lin Qinghen knew exactly why Mu Jiu was looking for him. While lounging with Yin Jiuxiao in the bath that night, he mentioned it casually. “Spirit Nurturing Pills are popular outside; I figure he’s getting restless and wanted to gather materials for a batch, only to find his versions aren’t as good as Die Meng’s.” Lin Qinghen chuckled, “Same with the Homeostasis Powder. He’s noticed the gap but can’t pinpoint why, so naturally, he wants to see me.”

The gap, of course, was due to the system’s ten percent boost, which Lin Qinghen saw no need to explain. Hence, he didn’t meet Mu Jiu.

The Alchemist Association’s requests were like this, and the Yin family’s issues were even more trivial. It was mostly people who had slacked off for too long, panicking at the sudden workload. There were others to handle these matters, and minor mistakes could always be corrected. As long as they stayed on course, all would be well.

Lin Qinghen had no intention of playing Lei City’s caretaker. Back when everyone was indifferent, he had stepped up, but now that things were bustling, he was ready to take a step back. This was a matter of watching and letting others find their footing.

He only took thirty percent of the earnings and couldn’t control everything. With so many people involved, it wasn’t just his own interests at stake, so they couldn’t rely solely on him. He’d paved the way, taught them the methods, now it was their turn to explore. It was like flying a kite—sometimes pulling, sometimes letting go, to keep things steady.

Yin Jiuxiao listened as he washed Lin Qinghen’s hair from behind. After doing it once, he’d become quite skilled, knowing this brought Lin Qinghen comfort. Once done, he even massaged his fingers.

“Less worry is a good thing,” Yin Jiuxiao said. “If everyone comes to you for everything, how would you keep up?”

Lin Qinghen’s hands weren’t what you’d call pretty; years of hard work had left them calloused and covered in dirt. As Yin Jiuxiao washed them clean, he noticed the fresh scabs from recent experiments, marks he recognized well.

Lin Yunsi had realized that Lin Qinghen’s work would result in injuries, and as the one providing the Demonic Qi, Yin Jiuxiao was even more aware. But this was Lin Qinghen’s nature, and holding him back out of concern would only be the worst choice. So when Lin Qinghen asked for more Demonic Qi, Yin Jiuxiao gave it.

Their bodies couldn’t be more different. Yin Jiuxiao healed incredibly fast, with wounds that closed up in no time, even those that cut to the bone. But Lin Qinghen was the opposite, recovering slowly even with medicine.

Yin Jiuxiao’s scars had faded over time, but Lin Qinghen’s remained. And in recent days, he’d acquired a few more.

Yin Jiuxiao had considered finding something to help him heal, but Lin Qinghen carried a poison that Yin Jiuxiao himself couldn’t understand. Even his vast knowledge couldn’t pinpoint the nature of it. Unable to resolve the poison, Yin Jiuxiao had at least hoped to ease Lin Qinghen’s old injuries.

While he couldn’t hold Lin Qinghen back, he could support him, making things a bit easier for him.

Soon, Lin Qinghen felt Yin Jiuxiao’s arms wrapping around him from behind, as a gentle energy seeped from Yin Jiuxiao’s body into his. During a painful round of medicine, Yin Jiuxiao had used this energy to soothe him, and over time, it did have a nourishing effect.

“Stop it,” Lin Qinghen muttered, shifting in his embrace. He knew his own body, and while Yin Jiuxiao’s effort was considerable, only a fraction of it benefited him—a waste. He didn’t think his body needed such care. But Yin Jiuxiao held him firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

Given Lin Qinghen’s spiritual level, few medicines could help him, and the few Yin Jiuxiao found had effects too strong for him. After some thought, this method was the best option.

It was a rare display of gentleness from a man known for his strength. Yin Jiuxiao had honed his aura to the softest possible level, nourishing Lin Qinghen’s body. And it was indeed working; Yin Jiuxiao had noticed that Lin Qinghen’s old injuries were slowly improving. He was no longer as frail as before, and even his once-slender waist had gained a hint of softness.