One core after another.
Mo Xuan mined without fatigue, pulling asteroid after asteroid apart.
B-grade Tier One.A-grade Tier Two.A-grade Tier Three.A-grade Tier One.
Some were hollow—clearly eaten by Xiao Ba and the others. Mo Xuan had figured it out: those Void beasts were picky. Plenty of large asteroids turned out to be empty shells, leaving him thrilled for a moment… and then annoyed.
Those things could eat. A whole herd of pigs.
Will there be another Earth-grade treasure?
He kept hoping. Without realizing it, ten hours passed. The belt's center gradually emptied. He had harvested quite a few A-grade Tier One cores, yet still hadn't found a second Earth-grade crystal.
Xiao Ba looked up at him with pitiful eyes. "Master… is there any more food?"
The volleyball-sized core Mo Xuan had given it earlier had been completely digested—and it hadn't even reached "two bites full." If anything, it looked hungrier.
Mo Xuan glanced at Xiao Ba, now noticeably larger. D-grade cores were famously hard to digest, yet Xiao Ba's digestion was surprisingly strong. He tossed it another D-grade core—one size bigger.
"Eat."
Xiao Ba sighed inwardly. There was so much delicious, fragrant treasure floating around them, yet it was forced to gnaw on the worst-tasting scraps.
Depressing.
But it didn't dare complain. It lunged obediently. Besides—when you're starving, anything tastes good.
Spring sleep comes without noticing dawn; hard work passes without noticing time.
Before Mo Xuan realized it, the transport vessel's internal storage—tens of thousands of square meters divided into more than ten thousand compartments—was completely full.
He let out a long breath, feeling oddly reluctant to stop.
Do I have… workaholic potential?
With a small flame, he incinerated the asteroid waste piled into a hill. Then he looked at the belt—nearly half still remained.
Enough for another massive harvest.
Mo Xuan chuckled and finally set off for home.
Even with home tugging at his heart, Mo Xuan didn't dare risk reckless long-range void-jumps again. He navigated with discipline—jumping toward known coordinates whenever possible, using short jumps through unknown space.
Safe piloting: everyone's responsibility.
Two months passed in a blink.
In the endless Void, a gigantic golden gate drifted in silence, faintly luminous—half real, half illusory, profound and elusive.
Near the gate floated a small island over five kilometers wide—mountains and water like a painting, birdsong and fragrant blossoms, brimming with vitality. It looked like a paradise lifted straight out of myth.
A shimmering lake covered half the island. Within it rose several jagged "rockeries"—strange and not particularly beautiful, gleaming with metallic luster. Nearby, tens of thousands of mu of spirit fields stretched out, planted with multicolored spirit flowers and immortal herbs.
A breeze carried in dozens of white clouds. A fine mist-rain fell, and the plants in the spirit fields seemed to relax, spreading joyfully beneath it.
Soon the clouds dispersed. Above, a colossal illumination formation lit the island like daylight.
Not far from the fields stood a two-hundred-meter green mountain. Its summit was flat, with a wide plaza and a palace. Inside the palace stood a six-eared cauldron, breathing out thin white vapor that shaped itself into cranes and blossoms—mysterious and wondrous.
On the floor beside the cauldron sat a meditation cushion. Upon it, cross-legged and still, was a middle-aged Daoist. His hair was tied high with a plain jade pin. Two long moustaches swept down like the character 八, and a thin beard trailed from his chin.
Mo Xuan's vessel approached from far away at high speed. He couldn't help staring at the island with envy.
This was a paradise only an Earth Immortal could possess—an evolved form of an Immortal Garden. Mo Xuan didn't even have scraps of an Immortal Garden yet. He could only look and ache.
The Daoist's moustache twitched slightly.
Mo Xuan flew into the island's boundary and landed gently on the palace plaza.
He stepped out, adjusted his appearance, then walked into the palace. With restrained nervousness, he bowed deeply.
"Disciple Mo Xuan greets Uncle-Master Luo."
Luo Yu opened his eyes and gave him a glance. His beard trembled faintly.
"Didn't you just leave? Why are you back so soon?" He muttered the last part under his breath. "Can't take a little setback and you call yourself an immortal…"
Mo Xuan's immortal hearing caught every word.
He smiled awkwardly. "Reporting to Uncle-Master, I gained a small harvest, so I returned in haste."
Luo Yu let out a noncommittal "Mm," then closed his eyes again.
Mo Xuan stood there, ignored, for a long while. Finally, he had no choice but to cough lightly.
Without opening his eyes, Luo Yu said, "You know the rules here, don't you?"
Mo Xuan forced a bitter smile. He might not know the "rules" in detail, but Luo Yu's reputation for plucking feathers off passing geese was legendary.
Mo Xuan turned, flicked his finger, and a prepared offering floated in from the vessel's rear intake: a Metal–Earth hybrid, A-grade Tier Two core over two meters across.
It drifted into the palace.
Luo Yu's eyes snapped open, gleaming. He examined it closely, then smiled as he stroked his beard and stood.
"Looks like you did quite well," he said warmly. "Let your uncle take a look around."
Mo Xuan's heart sank.
Every part of him screamed no—yet he could only keep smiling.
"Of course, Uncle-Master. Please."
Luo Yu followed behind him, smiling like a kindly elder. Inside, his joy surged.
That hesitation—that reluctance—meant good goods.
He had guarded this gate for five thousand years. He had seen every expression there was. A rookie returning this quickly either brought nothing… or struck rich.
And someone truly poor couldn't casually hand over an A-grade Tier Two core the size of a room.
Luo Yu's smile deepened.
Ah. Another harvest.
How else would he have built this paradise? One little "contribution" at a time, over five thousand years. Easy?
Mo Xuan stopped outside the vessel, stalling. That little sun was the treasure of his heart—only one of its kind. If Uncle-Master Luo shamelessly demanded it, what could he do?
The Dao Lords forbade internal conflict—but in the Void, the heavens were far and the emperor even farther.
"What are you thinking about?" Luo Yu asked pleasantly.
Mo Xuan's mouth twitched.
Resigned, he led Luo Yu inside.
The cabin was dim.
Mo Xuan blinked. Dim? But the little sun was supposed to blaze—
His eyes widened in fury.
How dare—
Xiao Ba had expanded its body to the maximum and swallowed the little sun whole. Its round belly looked ready to burst.
Xiao Ba was completely intoxicated, tears in its eyes, utterly unaware its master had returned.
Luo Yu, still smiling, s*ck*d in a sharp breath.
Then he saw the cargo.
A hold packed to the brim with energy cores—so many, and of such quality, that even he felt dizzy.
Five thousand years guarding this gate, and he had never seen such luxury.
He barely spared Xiao Ba a glance—A-grade Tier Three trash, not worth attention.
But his gaze locked quickly onto a crystal clear A-grade Tier One Wood–Water energy crystal.
It looked… tailor-made for him.
Luo Yu swallowed.
He needed it.
Mo Xuan mentally transmitted to Xiao Ba:
Don't move. If you move even once, I'll kill you.
Xiao Ba dropped from heaven into hell. It froze stiff, babbling in terror.
"Master, I—I only saw some dust on it! I was just… wiping it clean! I meant nothing!"
"Enough." Mo Xuan's voice was icy. "I said don't move."
Xiao Ba stayed perfectly still, sneaking anxious looks at Mo Xuan, regret flooding it. It had lost its mind. Touching the master's treasure—how did it even survive to this day?
Luo Yu, experienced and controlled, showed no reaction. He nodded with praise.
"Not bad. Not bad at all. Mo Xuan, your uncle truly underestimated you. The younger generation is formidable."
"You flatter me, Uncle-Master," Mo Xuan said humbly. "I was only lucky."
"Luck is also a kind of strength," Luo Yu replied, stroking his beard. "Mo Xuan—how about we make a deal?"
Mo Xuan hesitated. As long as it wasn't the little sun, he could negotiate.
Luo Yu smiled gently. "I won't take advantage of you. I'll trade pills I refined myself—cheaper than what you'd pay in Academy merit points."
Pills?
Mo Xuan's eyes lit up. "Uncle-Master… what pills do you have?"
Against newly advanced immortals, especially poor grassroots ones, this tactic was nearly unbeatable.
Luo Yu smiled. "I can't produce the rarest supreme pills. Only the common ones. Longevity pills, disease-purging pills… that sort of thing."
Mo Xuan's heart raced. "Do you have rejuvenation pills? The kind that restore youth?"
Luo Yu nodded, smiling. "Of course. They're a little expensive—but I certainly won't let my nephew suffer a loss."
Mo Xuan—will you bite?
"I'll trade!" Mo Xuan bit instantly.
Luo Yu produced several pill bottles and began an expertly smooth sales pitch.
"Rejuvenation Pills—eight. Gentle potency, excellent effect. Each costs 200 kilograms of A-grade Tier One energy solid. If you pay in Wood–Water crystals, only 40 kilograms each."
"Longevity-Extending Pills—thirty-two. Each costs 25 kilograms of A-grade Tier One energy solid."
"Disease-Purging Pills—30 kilograms of A-grade Tier Two energy solid each."
"And there's also Foundation-Stabilizing—"
So cheap.
Nearly half the Academy's price.
Mo Xuan slapped his thigh. "Uncle-Master Luo—I'll take everything!"
Luo Yu's moustache trembled with delight. "Good."
The transaction concluded quickly.
Mo Xuan obtained a large supply of precious pills at an excellent price.
Luo Yu, likewise satisfied, acquired the A-grade Tier One Wood–Water crystal—and a mountain of A-grade energy solids.
"Mo Xuan, safe travels," Luo Yu said, waving. "Come trade again next time."
The teleportation gate flared, streaming light as it activated.
"Of course, Uncle-Master Luo. Goodbye." Mo Xuan piloted his vessel into the gate—homeward bound.
Luo Yu stood smiling, gazing at the pile of asteroid cores stacked on the plaza like a hill.
With a haul like this, Mo Xuan had definitely found an asteroid belt. Meaning he still had reserves.
He should refine another batch of pills immediately—next time, he could butcher him again.
Later it wouldn't be so easy.
Luo Yu stored the A-grade Tier One Wood–Water crystal, then swept his sleeve.
The mountain of cores rose into the air, scattering like meteors into the shimmering lake.
The calm water instantly turned violent. Dozens of whirlpools formed. At each vortex center, an energy core churned.
Visible to the naked eye, the rolling cores slowly shrank.
Luo Yu clicked his tongue and nodded.
A-grade cores were easy to digest. The C-grade ones he had thrown in before were useless besides their size—after two years, more than half remained.
Those were the ugly "rockeries" in his lake.