For several days in a row, I lived the same routine — sell grilled fish in the morning, cultivate and train every other waking hour.

My alarm was set for five, but I never made it that far. The restless spiritual energy churning in my dantian jolted me awake first. I squinted at the window — barely dawn, the sky still a hazy grey. A handful of sparrows chattered on the old locust tree in the courtyard below, and my head buzzed like someone had crammed a soy milk blender inside my skull.

Ding — Host detected at peak Qi Refinement Stage Four. Spiritual energy approaching saturation. Strongly advised to seek a high-density aqueous environment immediately to break through the bottleneck.

The old man's voice crackled through the ring. "Keep sitting on it any longer and that dantian of yours is going to blow like a pressure cooker. Jade Lin'll be mopping you off the walls."

I massaged my throbbing temples and slipped out of bed as quietly as I could, desperate not to wake Jade Lin, who was dead asleep beside me. Last night after closing up the stall, I'd spent half the night cultivating with that low-grade spirit-gathering stone. The spiritual energy had been careening through my meridians like a first-time driver — I knew exactly where it needed to go, I just couldn't steer it there. The pale blue etchings on the stone had faded noticeably. Clearly, the thing was a consumable.

"Alright, alright, stop nagging," I muttered at the bronze ring. "Where am I supposed to find high-density water vapour? Down in Old Lady Wang's washing machine?"

"Idiot." The old man's holographic projection flickered above the ring and rolled its eyes at me, cradling what appeared to be a tiny phantom cup of soy milk. "There's an old waterworks about five kilometres from the complex. Built using water from a spirit-eye well, back in the day. Decommissioned now, but the underground pipes still hold plenty of pure water vapour. Perfect for a half-baked water-attribute cultivator like you to push through."

A waterworks. I scratched my head. I had a vague memory of the place — some kind of abandoned industrial site, the sort of spot where wedding photographers dragged couples for atmospheric backdrops. But if the system said so, might as well try. Anything beat sitting at home and exploding like a popcorn kernel.

I dressed carefully, moving as if the floor were made of glass, and had nearly made it to the front door when a sound from the kitchen made me jump out of my skin. Jade Lin stood at the stove in her apron, a batch of fried dough sticks sizzling and spitting in the pan. She caught me creeping along and raised an eyebrow. "And where are you sneaking off to? You came back from the night market reeking yesterday, and now you're trying to bolt again at the crack of dawn?"

Right. The missus was up. I plastered on my most reassuring smile. "Nowhere, sweetheart, just a morning jog. Get some exercise, you know? Look, I've even lost weight." I sucked in my stomach for effect, showing off the faint but undeniable outline of a six-pack — eight, actually. Thank you very much, Body-Tempering Pills. The process had been agony, but the results spoke for themselves. The five pills the system had awarded me were finally all used up.

Jade Lin looked me up and down, then reached out and squeezed my arm. "Well, well, Ethan Lu. Secretly building muscle, are we?" She gave a short nod. "Fine. Go for your run. But bring back a tofu pudding for River on your way home, or don't bother coming to the dinner table tonight."

"Yes, ma'am!" I felt like a prisoner receiving a pardon. I grabbed my canvas bag and bolted — the bag carrying the meteorite-iron chopping board and the Wave-Breaker cleaver. Morning jog on the surface, yes, but it never hurt to be prepared. Especially with those Baizhen Pavilion people hovering around like sharks that had caught the scent of blood.

Out of the complex, I didn't risk flagging down a cab. Instead I found a deserted corner and attempted Earth Concealment — a technique I'd only recently learned. At peak Stage Four, the difference in spiritual energy was already apparent. I could only burrow a few metres deep, same as before, but my speed was considerably faster than that embarrassing incident at the wet market. The posture was still undignified, mind you — I looked like a potato someone had stomped into the ground — but at least nobody was awake to see it.

About half an hour later, I surfaced outside the walls of the old waterworks. The place was even more desolate than I'd imagined. A rusted iron gate hung at a lopsided angle, smothered in Virginia creeper, the characters reading Changtan Municipal Waterworks on the archway nearly swallowed by moss. The air carried a heavy smell of wet earth and damp stone, threaded through with the faintest trace of spiritual energy — exactly as the system had promised. The water vapour here was substantial.

I found a gap in the wall and squeezed through. Inside it was pure ruin. Corroded pipes coiled across the ground like enormous earthworms. Several massive concrete basins sat empty, their walls furred with green moss. A system prompt surfaced in my mind: High-density water vapour residue detected. Concentration is highest in the underground pipe network. Host advised to explore beneath the Central Control Tower.

The Central Control Tower was a rust-pocked cylinder of sheet metal, jutting up from the middle of the compound like a colossal chimney. I circled its base and noticed that the ground around the foundation was wetter than anywhere else nearby — and there was a faint, faint smell hanging in the air. A smell I recognised. The same smell that clung to every one of those Baizhen Pavilion people.

"Something's off." My gut dropped. I tightened my grip on the meteorite chopping board. "System — why does this place smell like Reeking-Scale Powder?"

"Idiot." The old man's tone shifted, suddenly sharp. "Those Baizhen Pavilion bastards must have found the spirit-eye well here too. Odds are they've built an outpost underground. Watch yourself. Don't walk in there and get skewered like a fish at your own grill."

Every nerve in my body went on alert. I lightened my steps and circled to the back of the tower — and there it was: a manhole cover half-buried under weeds. The rim showed fresh scrape marks, the metal recently forced. Below, only darkness, and from it a thick, pungent wave of that same fishy stench rolling upward.

Ding. Emergency mission issued: Infiltrate the waterworks underground outpost and determine the nature of Baizhen Pavilion's activities at this site. Mission reward: Basic Water Concealment — Mastery Edition; 300 low-grade spirit stones.

End of Chapter 22: Days of Grind and Breakthrough