The briny tang of the sea breeze still lingered at the tip of my nose, while the Tide-Sea-Sea-Suppressing Jade Pendant in my palm had slowly lost its warmth. I stared at the teleportation array at the center of the secret realm, its soft light shimmering. The spiritual energy of my Fourth Layer Qi Refinement stage flowed through my meridians with remarkable ease now — the Foundation-Stabilizing Pill had worked like a clothes iron, smoothing out every last wrinkle of the restless qi that had surged through me during the breakthrough. The System Elder's holographic projection yawned from atop the ring, and the final drop of coconut water from his shell plip-plopped right onto the tip of my nose. "Alright, rookie, quit dawdling. Your wife's about to file a missing persons report saying you got abducted by aliens."

When the teleportation array flared to life, I instinctively tightened my grip on the meteorite iron chopping board. I blinked — and the clean salt air was gone, replaced by the sharp reek of raw fish. I was standing beside the ruins of the Spirit-Gathering Formation on the top floor of the residential complex. The stone basin that the Scale-Claw Demon had smashed last night still lay tilted to one side, and from the crack I'd split through its base, wisps of black qi seeped out like blackheads that hadn't been squeezed clean.

Ding! Core of Spirit-Gathering Formation detected as destroyed. Residual malevolent qi dispersing. Host advised to use a Purification Talisman or high-tier water-affinity spell to cleanse the area. The System's chime sounded in my mind, accompanied by a bonus emoji of the little old man rolling his eyes. "A rookie who just barely broke through to the Fourth Layer of Qi Refinement — you haven't even figured out basic water-affinity spells yet. I'd strongly suggest you forget about high-tier anything and just smash it shut with the chopping board. That's more your speed."

I swung the meteorite iron chopping board and brought it down hard on the stone basin. The dark-gold runes erupted in a blinding golden flash on impact, and the black qi dissolved like morning dew meeting sunlight — a brief sizzle-sizzle, then nothing. The air on the rooftop cleared instantly. From somewhere in the distance came the crisp call of Old Uncle Zhang doing his morning exercises, noticeably clearer than usual.

"Finally done…" I rubbed my aching arm, and then suddenly remembered the disaster zone in the kitchen. I'd left in such a rush last night — the wreckage of the range hood was still hanging off the wall. The System panel obligingly popped up:

Quest: Restore the kitchen from post-disaster conditions. Prove that cultivation does not interfere with household duties. Reward: Introduction to Basic Repair Arts, 100 Low-Grade Spirit Stones.

"Repair Arts?" I raised an eyebrow, tucked the chopping board under my arm, and slipped downstairs. When I opened the front door, Jade Lin was sitting on the sofa tidying up River's hair, which had stuck up in all directions during sleep. The moment she saw me walk in, her eyes nearly sliced me clean in half. "Ethan Lu. Where the hell did you disappear to last night? If that kitchen isn't fixed today, you're sleeping in the hallway with the rice cooker!"

River came charging over, Ultraman toy raised high: "Daddy, Mummy said you turned the kitchen into a battlefield!"

I plastered on my most apologetic smile and hid the chopping board behind my back. "Honey, surprise! I learned a brand-new skill. I guarantee I'll fix the kitchen up so it shines brighter than new!"

The little old man's voice dripped with sarcasm: "Idiot. Basic Repair Arts requires you to trace runes with spiritual energy. You think this is Lego?"

I ignored him. Mimicking the water-affinity spell gestures I'd seen demonstrated back in the secret realm, I channeled my qi toward the ruined range hood and pressed. The golden light I'd been expecting never appeared — instead, a jet of water erupted from my fingertips and doused the gas stove Jade Lin had just lit.

"Ethan Lu!" Jade Lin's roar rattled the ceiling lamp. "Are you drawing sigils with soy sauce AGAIN?"

"It's not soy sauce!" I scrambled to rein in my spiritual energy, but I'd lost control. The water stream bolted like a runaway horse, straight into the wall. The plaster bubbled and squelched as it soaked through, and the fishy Scale-Talisman I'd painted yesterday with dark soy sauce actually faded a little from the dousing.

System Notice: Spiritual energy control failed. Current effect: Kitchen Flood.

"Oh, for crying out loud—" I stared at the water already rising past my ankles, close to tears. River, on the other hand, found it absolutely delightful and went splashing back and forth through the puddles. "Daddy! Can we sail a boat inside the house?!"

Jade Lin grabbed the mop from the corner and pointed it squarely at my nose. "Ethan Lu, you're not cultivating immortality — you're cultivating burst pipes! Starting today, you are banned. No more anything to do with 'spiritual energy' anywhere in this house!"

"Banned?" I stared at her blankly. "Honey, this is a misunderstanding…"

"There's no misunderstanding!" Jade Lin shoved the mop into my hands. "Get this water cleaned up — now. River's bringing classmates over this afternoon, and if they see our home looking like Water Curtain Cave, you'll be kneeling on the washboard till midnight!"

I got to work on the water with a long-suffering expression. Meanwhile the little old man cackled away gleefully from inside the ring. "Serves you right for not listening to your elders. That said, rookie — your water-affinity spells may be absolute garbage, but your instinctive water control isn't half bad. Better than your sword qi, honestly."

End of Chapter 17: The Salty Sea Breeze Fades, But the Kitchen Flood Remains