The five o'clock alarm hadn't gone off yet when the sparrows outside the balcony woke me. I pushed open the window. The locust trees in the old estate still wore their dew, and the air carried that familiar smell of everyday life — more settling to me than the damp, salt-laden sea breeze at Donghai Listening-to-the-Waves Residence.

"You're up?" Jade Lin came out of the bathroom with a towel, her apron dusted with flour. "Old Master Wang dropped off fish this morning. Said he set them aside specially — 'priority stock for a loyal customer.'"

"Old Master Wang mentioned," Jade Lin lowered her voice, "that it rained last night, so he collected some rainwater and soaked them with 'whatever that pill you gave him' was."

I understood at once. My sensitivity to spiritual energy had sharpened tenfold, and the water at the bottom of the basin was unmistakably infused with a Qi-Gathering Pill dissolved into rainwater, left to steep with the fish overnight. No wonder the spiritual energy was so dense.

"All right. Time to show what I've got." I lifted the fish out and found their bellies swollen and round, as though they'd fed on spiritual energy to their fill.

In the kitchen, Jade Lin had already mixed the sauce. In the glass bowl sat finely chopped red chillies, minced garlic, and minced ginger, all glossed over by a shimmering layer of oil — different from before, she had stirred in half a small bottle of mineral water.

"What's this?"

"That 'good stuff' you brought back," Jade Lin said, shaking the empty bottle. "I diluted it ten to one. Smells like cooking wine."

I picked up the bottle and sniffed. Sure enough, the scent of the diluted Qi-Gathering Pill had been thoroughly buried under the spring onion, ginger, and garlic — only a faint wisp of something warm and wine-like remained. The control over spiritual energy that came with the Foundation-Building stage let me regulate dosage with much greater precision. For this batch of sauce, I had Jade Lin add only the equivalent of half a low-grade Qi-Gathering Pill's worth of solution — enough to elevate the spiritual potency of the grilled fish, but not so much that an ordinary person would be overwhelmed.

The market stall was in the same old spot. I set up the folding table, assembled the grill, and Jade Lin placed the foam cooler full of fish alongside it. The moment I lit the charcoal, familiar faces began drifting over.

"Ethan? You're finally back at the stall!" Old Master Zhang leaned on his walking stick, Old Mistress Li trailing behind him. "Last time you were here was six months ago — it's already early summer!"

"Master Zhang, Mistress Li," I greeted them with a smile, picking up a fish and scraping off the scales. "Went away for a bit of 'further study.' Picked up a few new tricks."

Old Master Wang ambled over with his pipe clenched between his teeth and set his balance weight on my table with a thunk. "Ethan, you'd better grill these fish of mine nice and fragrant today — otherwise I won't have anywhere to put my old face."

I nodded. I knew exactly what that weight on my table meant: he was lending me his backing.

The first customer was Grandma Wang from the second floor. She had suffered from chronic leg pain for years and never went anywhere without her cane.

"Ethan, one small one for me. Easy on the chilli."

"Coming right up!" I took the fish, split the belly with the cleaver, and when I brushed on the sauce, I took care to work an extra layer deep inside the cavity. The moment the Qi-Gathering solution-infused sauce met the charcoal heat, a sharp sizzle rang out and a fragrance — chilli and spring onion and ginger and the faintest trace of spiritual energy — billowed outward all at once.

"Aiya, that smell..." Grandma Wang's nose twitched. "Different from before. Just the scent of it opens your appetite!"

Old Master Li sidled over too. "Ethan, did you change your sauce recipe? There's something sweet in there."

I only smiled and said nothing, keeping my focus on turning the fish. The precise control over spiritual energy that the Foundation-Building stage afforded let me manage the heat exactly — the fish skin grilled to a golden, crackling crisp while the flesh inside stayed moist and tender. Strangest of all, as the aroma from the grill grew richer and richer, a thin veil of white mist began to rise above the coals.

"Will you look at that!" Old Master Zhang rapped his cane on the ground. "Ethan Lu's grill — why is it giving off immortal vapour?"

It wasn't immortal vapour. It was spiritual mist — spiritual energy vaporising under heat. I could see tiny motes of light drifting through the haze: energy released as the Qi-Gathering solution merged with the spiritual energy already stored within the fish.

Grandma Wang took the finished fish and bit into it. Her eyes went wide. "Goodness — why is this fish so tender?" Years of bitter herbal medicine had long since dulled her palate, yet here she was clicking her tongue in delight, chewing even the small bones with obvious relish.

More remarkable still: when she finished the fish and set down her cane, she tried a few cautious steps. "That's strange. My legs don't hurt nearly as much today."

End of Chapter 68: The Morning Stall