Breathing in the earthy fragrance in the air, Lin Mu let out a long sigh of relief.
After all, only progress in strength could give him any sense of security.
However, he didn't let himself become complacent over the breakthrough.
As Old Ma had said, in this world, appropriate concealment was wisdom—but if one hid so thoroughly that not a single edge showed, one truly became mud that anyone could trample.
Moments later, Lin Mu changed into a clean Steward's robe and strode refreshed toward the clan's Martial Arts Hall assessment center.
That was the place where clansmen's cultivation was evaluated and corresponding resources distributed.
Standing before the Assessment Stone, Lin Mu drew a deep breath, his thoughts stirring.
He forcibly suppressed that vast ink-green sea of Primeval Essence within his aperture. The Liquor Worm had long since been sealed away by the Red Mud, hidden completely.
He mobilized only about fifty percent of his surface-level Primeval Essence, slowly channeling it into the stone tablet.
Hum—
The tablet lit up, its glow stabilizing in the pale green range, the color rich and full, indicating an extremely solid foundation.
"Rank 1 Middle Stage, consolidation period."
The white-haired clan elder in charge of assessments raised his eyelids. Looking at the reading on the tablet, a flash of surprise crossed his otherwise indifferent gaze.
"If I remember correctly, it hasn't even been half a year since your aperture awakened?"
The elder looked Lin Mu up and down, clicking his tongue in wonder. "With ordinary aptitude, reaching this level would take at least a year. Your speed is quite impressive."
At these words, the surrounding clansmen waiting for assessment all cast astonished glances his way.
Lin Mu showed no pride. Instead, he revealed a wry smile—part pained, part smug—as he patted the noticeably deflated money pouch at his waist and cupped his hands.
"The elder flatters me. This disciple is no genius—I simply... wasn't afraid to spend money."
"Those five hundred Primeval Stones the Supreme Elder rewarded me, plus the savings I'd accumulated from missions—over these past months, I converted them all into pills and spirit materials and poured them in."
"If not for this cultivation, I wouldn't be so broke I can't even afford a drink."
At "five hundred Primeval Stones," the surprise in the elder's eyes instantly transformed into understanding, then shifted to a kind of "wastrel" sympathy.
"I see."
The elder shook his head, recording in the register with a flourish of his brush.
"Five hundred stones... Anyone else would have used them to acquire Gu worms or saved them for a bride. But you went and dumped it all into this bottomless pit."
"Well, that's your fate."
The crowd around them erupted, discussions rising one after another.
"Tsk tsk, hear that? This is what they call 'money makes the world go round.' If I had five hundred Primeval Stones, I could reach Middle Stage too!"
"Give it a rest. He latched onto Young Master Lin Feng's coattails—Supreme Elder Lin Zhen personally rewarded him. That's just destiny."
"Still, this Lin Mu is ruthless. Spending that much money without blinking—I could never bear to."
Envy, jealousy, and sour tones filled the hall.
But not a single voice of suspicion.
This was exactly the effect Lin Mu wanted. He had used the labels of "nouveau riche" and "wastrel" to perfectly explain his rapid cultivation progress, concealing the Liquor Worm's existence, and hiding the terrifying truth that he had actually reached Rank 1 Upper Stage with Primeval Essence quality at its peak.
Moreover, this posture of "relying on the clan, willing to invest" made him appear more harmless—more like a member of the clan system, rather than some lone wolf harboring ulterior motives.
"As long as they think they've seen through me, I'm safe."
Lin Mu collected his new identity token and departed calmly amid a sea of complicated gazes.
The sun climbed high.
Rather than hurrying back to the Silent Stone District, Lin Mu turned into an open-air tea stall beside the clan's dining hall.
He ordered a refined medicinal dish rare in this world—Spirit Ginseng Black Chicken Soup—and sipped it leisurely while keeping his ears pricked, catching the information drifting through the air around him.
At the tea stall, several young clansmen sat together, animatedly discussing the clan's recent major affairs.
"Did you hear? The rules for the 'True Inheritance Grand Competition' rewards have changed! Apparently, first place not only gets a Rank 3 Gu worm but also personal guidance from the Patriarch!"
"Come on, what's that got to do with us?"
A tall, thin youth curled his lip, his face full of resignation. "That's for the senior brothers and sisters eighteen and older."
"Our cohort just awakened not long ago. Even though we have a few strong ones, the hard requirements are set—we'll have to wait another two years before we're even eligible to register."
"Not necessarily."
A well-informed chubby youth nearby lowered his voice, speaking mysteriously. "I heard from my cousin in the Internal Affairs Hall that this time, Young Master Lin Feng might make a big splash."
"And not just Young Master Lin Feng. That madman Lin Yan from the Punishment Hall—apparently he's been in secluded cultivation at the 'Copper Fire Mine Cavern' for three months."
"When he came out, his hair was all burned off, and his cultivation has become unfathomable."
"There's also Senior Sister Lin Xue from the Medicine Hall. Word is she refined a rare healing Gu—even the elders were alerted..."
"Medicine Hall, Storage, Punishment Hall... Looks like this competition will be a battle of immortals from every branch."
Everyone sighed with emotion, their eyes full of longing and awe.
Lin Mu listened quietly, his spoon gently stirring the soup bowl.
"Elder's True Inheritance... a game of power."
He had little interest in that so-called "True Inheritance disciple" title. While such a position came with abundant resources, it also bound one too tightly—every move under the spotlight. It wasn't suitable for someone like him who harbored great secrets.
But this grand competition presented an enormous business opportunity.
"With so many people training desperately and fighting for this competition, healing medicines, burst-type pills, even materials for repairing Gu worms—prices will surely rise with the tide."
"Perhaps I can have Lin Ping stockpile some raw materials for 'Hemostatic Grass' and 'Qi Recovery Powder' in advance..."
His commercial thinking wandered for a moment before Lin Mu reined it in.
He drained the last of his soup, left a few stone fragments, and rose to leave.
Back on the secluded path in the Silent Stone District, no one was around.
Lin Mu suddenly stopped, casually throwing a knife-hand strike at a blue stone by the roadside.
Boom!
The air released a deep explosion—a sonic boom produced by Upper Stage Primeval Essence infusion. The stone split on impact, the cut clean and neat.
The power was formidable, and his Primeval Essence reserves were terrifyingly vast.
But looking at his own palm, Lin Mu's brow furrowed slightly.
"A bit stiff."
He could feel it—in that knife-hand strike just now, there had been the slightest hesitation in the flow of Primeval Essence through his meridians. Though the power was immense, it had been achieved through "quantity," not through "skill."
This was the drawback of training behind closed doors.
Practicing moves against air in a small room was entirely different from striking in life-or-death combat.
Over this past month, though his cultivation had surged, his actual combat experience remained stuck at the level of his previous encounter with Green Snake.
New power, new techniques—without tempering through blood and fire, they were castles in the air.
"If I encountered an expert of Green Snake's caliber now, this slight stiffness might cost me my life."
Lin Mu clenched his fist. The comfort in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by the sharpness of a hunter about to enter the jungle.
"Reading ten thousand books is not as good as traveling ten thousand miles."
"My cultivation has reached a bottleneck. Continuing to grind away at home is meaningless. It's time to go out and stretch my limbs."
He raised his head, his gaze turning toward the Steward Hall where missions were posted.