At the bottom of the valley, a silvery waterfall cascaded down the cliff face, thundering like a storm, carrying the force of a thousand tons, crashing into the deep pool below with a roar and sending countless sparkling droplets flying.

The mist and the fragrance of various spiritual herbs mingled together. Taking a deep breath, Brian Carter felt an indescribable comfort. He suddenly thought that tending to the spiritual fields here might not be as bad as he had imagined.

Remembering Emily Brooks’s instructions to make it rain once a day, Brian Carter hurriedly formed a hand seal.

Moisture gathered from all around at a speed visible to the naked eye, gradually forming a white cloud that floated above the medicinal field. The hand seals in Brian Carter’s hands changed rapidly, his movements dazzling, and the cloud began to drizzle, the fine rain gently nourishing the medicinal field.

This light rain lasted for half an hour before the cloud dissipated. Brian Carter let out a sigh of relief. The abundant moisture here made casting the “Small Cloud Rain Technique” much less strenuous. He couldn’t help but calculate in his mind—things were going better than he had expected. If he worked hard, he might just barely fulfill the agreements he had already made.

What he needed to pray for now was that nothing would go wrong with the medicinal field, and that everything would be safe and sound until Senior Sister Emily Brooks returned.

No matter what happened, it wouldn’t be something he could handle.

If he had harbored any illusions before, he now understood the harshness of reality all too well. He was very sensitive to spiritual energy, and the spiritual energy in Cold Mist Valley was quite abundant. With such a treasured place cultivated into a medicinal field, it was easy to imagine that the spiritual herbs grown here would be of high grade.

If anything really went wrong under his care, he feared...

He couldn’t help but shudder.

Although the path to the valley was heavily warded, there were no restrictions inside the valley itself. Brian Carter explored the entire valley. The pool was bottomless, the water icy cold, and the roar of the waterfall was so loud that it echoed throughout the valley.

He squatted in the spiritual field, examining each spiritual herb one by one, determined to memorize the characteristics of every single plant. He had only ever grown spiritual grain before and knew nothing about spiritual herbs, so he could only use this clumsy method. He no longer hoped for any rewards—he just hoped nothing would go wrong in his hands.

Any one of these spiritual herbs was worth more than he could ever repay, even if he sold himself.

He could guarantee that he had never been so attentive in his life.

It wasn’t until dusk that he dragged his utterly exhausted body back to the small courtyard. When he saw the mess all around the yard and the shattered wards, he felt like crying.

But he didn’t have the strength to reset the wards right now. He was dead tired, without even the energy to lift his eyelids.

Back in the meditation room, he only managed to channel a tiny bit of spiritual power into the sound jade before he couldn’t hold on any longer and collapsed onto the meditation mat, falling into a deep sleep.

He woke to the sound of the sound jade playing.

“The qualification selection for the 23rd ‘Sword Trial Assembly’ has been completed. So far, a total of 4,253 sword cultivators have qualified for the competition. The rewards for this ‘Sword Trial Assembly’ are the richest in history: the top hundred will receive fourth-grade flying swords, the top ten will receive fifth-grade flying swords, and the first prize has been confirmed as ‘Ding Feng’, a seventh-grade sword. Reportedly, this is the highest-grade flying sword ever offered in the history of the ‘Sword Trial Assembly’, attracting the interest of disciples from major sects such as Wushuang Sword Sect and Suoluo Sword Sect…”

“Good stuff, good stuff, I want it, I want it, but there’s no chance, no chance…”

Brian Carter climbed up from the meditation mat without a care in the world, humming a strange tune.

Walking out of the meditation room, he began to reset the wards. As for the courtyard wall, he would have to rebuild it later.

Broken bricks were scattered everywhere, so he had no choice but to clean up the area, or there would be nowhere to set up the wards. With his seventh-level Qi Refining cultivation, there were many limitations to setting up wards.

Humming a little tune, he started clearing away the ruins. This small courtyard was built long ago, and the walls were already dilapidated—now they had been completely destroyed by Senior Brother William Grant. Thinking of Senior Brother William Grant’s domineering, sky-crashing entrance, Brian Carter still felt a bit shaken.

Huh? Brian Carter suddenly stopped, bending down to pick something up.

It was a small pink paper crane, much smaller and more delicate than Brian Carter’s own white paper crane. This was a little thousand-crane, used for sending messages. However, it wasn’t as fast as sending messages by flying sword, and especially over longer distances, it was quite inconvenient, so most users were cultivators below the Golden Core stage.

How did it end up here?

Brian Carter unceremoniously unfolded the pink little thousand-crane, and suddenly realized—it was a wishing thousand-crane.

Long ago, when cultivators broke through the void in search of new worlds, they often encountered danger and became trapped. When they realized they couldn’t escape, they would write their wishes and pleas for help on a little thousand-crane and let it fly off at random. Since there were no identifying marks, no one knew where these little cranes would end up. But cultivators lived long lives, and even if trapped, with a bit of luck they could hold out for quite some time.

After the first case of someone being rescued thanks to a wishing thousand-crane, these cranes quickly became popular among cultivators. Over time, it also became a pastime for some female cultivators to relieve their feelings. They would write their thoughts on a wishing thousand-crane and let it fly off at random, but would leave a mark on it. Whoever found it could use the mark to send the wishing thousand-crane back to its owner.