The wall of the Wang Manor was not merely stone; it was a statement. Twelve feet high, built of interlocking grey slate, and topped with jagged iron spikes, it was designed to keep the envious world at bay.

  But Xie Mingzhi knew walls. He knew that heavy slate required deep foundations, and deep foundations disturbed the soil density for yards around them.

  He found a spot where the ground was softest, obscured by the thick brambles. Using the toe of his boot and his strong, calloused fingers, he found the cracks in the mortar. He climbed. It wasn't graceful—he scrambled like a starving lizard—but he made it to the top.

  He dropped silently into the shadows of the garden on the other side.

  The air here was different. It was heavy, sweet, and rich. The Wangs’ private garden was a paradise compared to the village below. Ornamental plum trees twisted in artistic shapes, and the paths were lined with white gravel that seemed to glow in the moonlight.

  "Mingzhi," the Spirit’s voice whispered in his mind, hushed and reverent. "The earth qi density is spiking. The fracture in the Earth Vein is close. Approximately eighty meters north-northeast."

  Mingzhi nodded, crouching low. He moved toward the source.

  Thirty steps in, he froze.

  Two guards in leather armor walked past on the gravel path ahead, their spears resting on their shoulders. They weren't the lazy gate guards; these men moved with the rhythmic breathing of trained martial artists.

  Mingzhi held his breath until they passed. He waited, counted to ten, and moved again.

  He tried to flank around a decorative pond.

  "Halt," the Spirit warned.

  Mingzhi dropped flat behind a stone lion. Another guard was standing in the shadow of a pagoda, scanning the area.

  "Too tight," Mingzhi hissed, crawling backward into the cover of a rhododendron bush. "They have a three-point rotation. I can't cross the open ground to the fracture without being seen."

  He tried a second time, circling wide to the left, aiming for a cluster of bamboo. But as he approached, a dog barked in the distance, and the guards immediately shifted their patrol, cutting off his route.

  He retreated to the wall, his chest heaving. He was stuck. The treasure was right there, humming in the air, but an invisible net of eyes blocked the way.

  “Infiltration through conventional means is impossible,” the Spirit said calmly. “The patrol density is high. Your survival probability is low. Retreat is advised.”

  It paused.

  “On the positive side, you would die quickly.”

  Mingzhi looked at the manicured garden. He looked at the guards who walked with the arrogance of those who owned the earth.

  "Retreat?" Mingzhi wiped a smudge of dirt from his cheek. A cold, stubborn fire lit his eyes. "I didn't come here to look at their flowers."

  He looked down at the soil beneath his feet. It was dark, loamy, and soft—tended by gardeners for generations.

  "They watch the paths," Mingzhi whispered. "They watch the gates. But they don't watch the dirt."

  “…Correct,” the Spirit said after a brief scan. “They appear to have no contingency for ‘farmer.’”

  "Mingzhi?"

  Mingzhi dropped to his knees. "Watch me, the Mud Rat." He laughed.

  He didn't use a tool. He used his hands. His fingers, hardened by years of tearing rocks from the clay of his family's farm, dug into the soft earth of the flowerbed. He didn't dig down; he dug forward, carving a tunnel beneath the root systems of the massive hedges.

  It was grueling work. The dirt packed under his fingernails, cool and damp. But to a farmer, dirt wasn't an obstacle; it was a medium.

  He slipped into the hole, pulling the leafy branches of the hedge closed behind him to hide the entrance. He was now underground, crawling through a narrow tunnel of his own making, the smell of wet soil filling his nose.

  "Guide me," Mingzhi thought, spitting out a piece of grit. "Where is the densest energy?"

  “Remarkable,” the Spirit said. “You are behaving exactly like a burrowing mammal.”

  “Is that bad?” Mingzhi thought.

  “No,” the Spirit replied. “It is statistically effective. The guards scan for surface movement. They do not scan for... subterranean intrusion. Mingzhi, angle a bit down. The vein fracture radiates from a natural cavern below the central rockery."

  Mingzhi dug. He moved like a mole, using his shoulders to compact the tunnel walls. The deeper he went, the heavier the air became. It wasn't just lack of oxygen; it was the pressure of the Earth Qi. It pressed against his skin like a heavy blanket.

  Ten minutes later, his hand struck something hard.

  It wasn't a rock. It was warm.

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  Mingzhi brushed away the dirt. Embedded in the clay was a stone the size of a fist, glowing with a dull, pulsating yellow light.

  "Spirit Stone," the Spirit identified. "Low-Grade. This is the raw byproduct of the vein. In layman’s terms,” the Spirit added, “you have just dug up what your family would need many years to earn.”

  Mingzhi pried it loose. It was heavy. Just holding it made his fatigue fade slightly. This single stone was worth more than his family’s entire harvest.

  He shoved it into his pocket. "Is there more?"

  "Deeper," the Spirit guided. "The fracture is rich."

  Mingzhi dug deeper. The soil began to change. It became grainy, filled with sparkling dust. He found another stone. Then another. He stuffed his pockets until they bulged.

  Then, his fingers brushed against something that felt different. It wasn't rough like the Spirit Stones. It was smooth, faceted, and humming with a frequency that made his teeth ache.

  He pulled it out. Even in the darkness of the tunnel, it shone with a sharp, crystalline clarity. It wasn't opaque like the stones; it was translucent, like a diamond made of honey.

  "A Spirit Crystal," the Spirit whispered, its voice trembling with scholarly excitement. "This is the heart-matter of the vein. One of these is equivalent to one hundred Spirit Stones in energy density, but its purity is tenfold."

  Mingzhi’s hand shook as he held it. One hundred stones. This was a fortune. This was power.

  "Why haven't they mined this?" Mingzhi asked, pocketing the crystal carefully.

  “The Wang family suffers from a chronic condition,” the Spirit replied. “Short-sightedness. They likely does not know the extent of the vein. They built their manor on the surface leak. They are skimming the cream, unaware of the milk beneath. Look deeper, Mingzhi. Do you feel the resistance?"

  "They sit on a goldmine, but they only see the surface. Who’s the frog at the bottom of the well?" thought Mingzhi while pushed his hand into the soil floor. It was hard as iron. He tried to dig, but his fingers couldn't penetrate it. The earth itself seemed to be rejecting him.

  "The density of Earth Qi increases with depth," the Spirit lectured. "Below this layer lies the Spirit Marrow, and perhaps even a Spirit Source—the soul of the vein. But the pressure there is immense. Without a stronger constitution or specialized tools, you cannot dig further. The earth will crush your hands."

  "So the best stuff is locked away," Mingzhi muttered. He patted his bulging pockets. "Fine. I'll come back for it when I'm stronger. For now, we bleed them slowly."

  “Correct,” the Spirit said. “The earth is stronger than you. This is a recurring theme.”

  He sat back on his heels in the cramped tunnel. The air here was saturated with Earth Qi. It was thick, almost liquid.

  "This place is perfect," Mingzhi thought. "Spirit, help me mold the Qi. I want to form the Seed right here."

  "Negative," the Spirit interjected firmly. "I advise against it, Mingzhi. While the density is ideal, the fluctuation caused by a successful Seed formation creates a spiritual vacuum. The guards on the surface would sense the sudden drop in ambient pressure. We would be discovered."

  Mingzhi cursed silently. He was so close.

  "However," the Spirit added, "you now possess Spirit Stones and Crystals. You do not need to stay here. We can return to your home and use these materials to lay a 'Lesser Earth Gathering Array'. It will simulate the environment safely."

  "An array..." Mingzhi smiled in the dark. "Using their money to build my foundation. I like that."

  He prepared to turn back, but the Spirit spoke again.

  "One moment, Mingzhi. Before we retreat... I detect another signature directly above us."

  "Above?" Mingzhi looked at the root-ceiling of his tunnel.

  "The Qi of herbs," the Spirit said. "High concentration. It appears we have burrowed directly beneath the Wang family's medicinal garden."

  Mingzhi’s eyes lit up. He reached up and touched the ceiling of his tunnel. He could feel the thick, fibrous roots of plants penetrating the soil.

  "Can you identify them?"

  “Identifying,” the Spirit said. “You have accidentally tunneled beneath their most valuable plants.”

  It paused.

  “This is fortunate for you. Unfortunate for them.”

  Mingzhi grinned. It was a wicked, feral grin. "They grow them on the surface. They watch them from the sides."

  "Hehe," Mingzhi chuckled softly. "Guide me under the biggest one."

  “Understood,” the Spirit said. “We are now officially committing botanical theft.”

  He shifted his position, digging upward with careful, scraping motions. He felt like a ground squirrel—small, ignored, and very good at taking things people assumed were safe.

  He found a thick, tuberous root.

  "Iron-Bark Root," the Spirit confirmed. "Excellent for strengthening bone density. Essential for body cultivation."

  Mingzhi grabbed the root. He didn't pull immediately. He loosened the soil around it, wiggling it gently, feeling the tension of the earth.

  Pop.

  With a soft sound, muffled entirely by the dirt, the herb was pulled down into the tunnel.

  Above ground, in the pristine garden, a leafy plant suddenly vanished, leaving only a small divot in the soil that would be easily missed in the dark.

  Mingzhi didn't stop.

  "Left. Blood-Ginseng."

  Pop.

  “Efficiency is increasing,” the Spirit observed. “You appear to be enjoying this.”

  "Right. Spirit-Whisper Grass."

  Pop.

  He worked quickly, his fear replaced by the exhilaration of the heist. He wasn't just stealing herbs; he was stealing the gap between himself and Chen Rou. He was stealing his dignity back.

  "Pockets full," Mingzhi whispered, stuffing the herbs into his tunic. "Let's go."

  He shimmied backward through the tunnel, moving tail-first until he reached the entrance under the hedge near the wall.

  He poked his head out, gasping for fresh air. It got dark while he was underground.

  The crunch of gravel nearby made him freeze.

  He pulled back into the shadows of the hedge, pressing himself flat against the dirt.

  Two figures stopped on the path, just ten feet away.

  "Father, I don't see why I have to study the texts," a petulant voice whined.

  It was Wang Hu.

  "Because the Sect Selection is not just about punching rocks, you fool," a deeper, gravelly voice replied. Patriarch Wang. "The vocal exam filters out the brutes. If you fail the theory, you will end up in the Outer Sect forever, even if you they select you."

  "So what?" Wang Hu kicked a pebble. "I'm already at the First Stage of Cloud Gathering. I crushed that Xie kid yesterday like a twig. My power is real."

  "Power is common," the Patriarch snapped. "Influence is rare. Listen to me, Hu. If your results are borderline... I have made arrangements. Elder Zhang owes us for the last shipment of ore. A heavy purse can tilt the scales of the trial."

  Mingzhi, hiding in the dirt, clenched his jaw. Bribery. Of course.

  "Just be ready," the Patriarch said, his voice softening slightly. "Your brothers are already established. You need to catch up. The Wang family must control the Azure Cloud connection. We cannot let upstarts from the village steal our spots."

  "Who?" Wang Hu scoffed. "The Mud Rat? Or the Elder's girl? She's just a girl."

  "Do not underestimate the Chen girl," the Patriarch warned. "Water is dangerous. But the Xie boy... he is nothing. He came begging today to return the book. They are finished."

  "Good," Wang Hu laughed. "I hope he starves."

  They walked on, their voices fading as they headed toward the main house.

  Mingzhi waited until the silence returned. He crawled out from under the hedge, his body covered in soil, his pockets heavy with stolen stones and herbs.

  He looked at the direction they had gone.

  "Finished?" Mingzhi whispered, patting the pocket where the Spirit Crystal hummed with power.

  He climbed the wall, dropping down onto the free soil of the outside world. He felt heavier than before, laden with loot, but his step was light.

  "I'm just getting started," he said to the wind.

  He turned and melted into the darkness, eager to get home. Tonight, he wouldn't just sleep. Tonight, he would take his first step toward a future he had stolen back.