84: Chapter 84 The spiritual plants matured, filling the air with fragrance.

As the morning light just split the mountain mist, the leaves in the Medicinal Field began to move.

It was not the swaying caused by the wind, but a stretching that emanated from the roots, like a person waking up and stretching their limbs.

Seven Spirit Plants stood in the center, their entire bodies shimmering with gold, light coursing through their veins, flickering on and off like breathing.

Something began to drift in the air—a pale golden mist, so light it was almost invisible, but once inhaled, one's mind jolted, as if someone had tapped your Spirit Platform three times with a small hammer.

Chen Wuwang suddenly opened his eyes on the high platform of the Main Hall.

His Mechanical Prosthetic Eye automatically focused, the Spiritual Qi readings from the direction of the Medicinal Field instantly going off the charts. The alarm did not sound, but red text scrolled rapidly across the interface: "Fluctuation peak value continues to rise, critical threshold has been breached."

He pinched his fingers, and three deep grooves were gouged into the patterns on the dagger handle.

"It is here," he said in a low voice. The voice was not loud, but it made the messenger Disciple waiting behind him stiffen their back.

Don armor, grasp blade, depart.

Within less than a quarter of an hour, he was already standing at the edge of the Medicinal Field. Dew dampened the soles of his boots, but he did not move, only staring at those few Spirit Plants.

The fragrance had already overflowed, rippling outwards like waves; wherever it passed, even the gravel on the ground faintly glowed.

He knew that this scent would spread ten miles away within an hour.

Forces further away might not yet have detected it, but those eyes hidden in the shadows must have already opened.

He raised his hand, and two orders were issued silently.

One to the Artifact Refining Workshop: Tiezhu, prepare for harvesting.

One to the Martial Arts Field: Xiao Dao, lead the men to ambush.

Both arrived quickly. Chen Tiezhu was wearing work clothes stained with oil, holding a spiritual energy wrench used for calibration in his hand; Chen Xiaodao was dressed in black, his sword still sheathed, but his shoulders and back were taut like a drawn bow.

The three stood still, gazing at the center of the field.

"It really succeeded," Chen Tiezhu's voice trembled slightly; a craftsman might only see such a scene once in a lifetime. "This Spiritual Qi purity... is even higher than the first furnace of Life-Bound Pills I ever refined."

"Do not get sentimental," Chen Wuwang interrupted him. "Now is not the time to be amazed."

"I know," Chen Tiezhu swallowed, but his eyes remained glued to the Spirit Plants. "But this thing is too fragrant, abnormally so. As soon as we make a move, the people outside will immediately know—the good stuff is ripe."

"That is why we must be quick," Chen Wuwang's gaze swept toward the northwest woods. "Xiao Dao, thirty men, deploy along the diagonal line, focusing on low Spiritual Qi fluctuations. Do not worry about whether they are passing Cultivators; as long as they get within three hundred meters, mark their position immediately without alerting them."

"Understood." Chen Xiaodao nodded, his figure flashed, and he leapt onto an old pine tree beside the field ridge, disappearing into the shadows of the forest after a few bounds.

Chen Tiezhu watched the direction where he disappeared, muttering in a low voice: "This child... is becoming more and more like a drawn blade."

"He is the blade, you are the hammer," Chen Wuwang patted his shoulder. "Now, it is time to hammer the nail."

Disciples from the Artifact Refining Workshop pushed three small mechs up from below the slope, the tracks crushing the morning dew.

The arms of the mechs were equipped with flexible spiritual energy clamps and vacuum storage chambers, with a Level 3 buffer rune network carved on the surface—a plan Chen Tiezhu had stayed up all night to revise.

"Using this, we can preserve over ninety percent of the medicinal potency," he said while calibrating. "But if the clamping force is unstable, the Spirit Plants will backlash, explode on the spot, and this entire field will be ruined."

"Then be steady," Chen Wuwang stared at the field. "Wait until the third quarter of the Chen hour, the moment the medicinal potency returns to the core, then act. Do not make a move even a second off."

"I understand," Chen Tiezhu nodded, but his hands did not stop, repeatedly calibrating the sensor threshold of the clamps. "But I am still afraid... not afraid of an explosion, but afraid that after all our hard work guarding this until now, we will end up being stabbed in the back."

When these words fell, the surroundings were silent for a moment.

Chen Wuwang did not turn back, only saying: "I am afraid too. That is why I had them hide in the woods—not to guard against the wind, but to guard against people."

In the distance, a bird fluttered up.

His right fingertips unconsciously tapped the dagger handle—once, twice, three times.

The Mechanical Prosthetic Eye constantly refreshed the surrounding map, every trace of Spiritual Qi fluctuation within three hundred meters being disassembled into data streams, scrolling in the corner of his vision.

Everything was normal—too normal.

Precisely because it was too normal, it was wrong.

The protective Formation around the Medicinal Field was still running, its energy stable, but just a moment ago, a fallen leaf carried by the wind brushed against the edge of the Formation, stirring up a very faint ripple.

It was so faint it could almost be ignored, but his pupils constricted.

Blood-colored spiritual patterns flashed and disappeared in his right eye.

"It is here," he said again, his voice colder than before.

Chen Tiezhu looked up: "Who?"

"I do not know yet," Chen Wuwang stared at the spot where the fallen leaf landed. "It might be the wind, or it might not. But whoever it is, if they dare to get close, they must be prepared to have their legs broken."

He raised his hand and switched the communication channel to an encrypted frequency: "Xiao Dao, the third dead tree in the southeast corner, is there any movement?"

The channel remained silent for two seconds.

"None," Chen Xiaodao's voice was very low. "But I just discovered that the mist in the woods is thicker than usual. It is not Spiritual Mist; the way the water vapor is condensing is wrong—someone is using a low-Qi movement technique to sneak along the ground, deliberately avoiding detection."

"Do not move," Chen Wuwang ordered. "Wait for my signal. Without orders, you are not to attack, nor are you to retreat."

"Received."

Chen Tiezhu listened to this conversation, his palms covered in sweat. He looked down at his mech, then at the seven Spirit Plants with flowing golden light, suddenly feeling his throat go dry.

"Wuwang..." he called out, his voice a bit hoarse. "Tell me, what exactly are we guarding against? Are we afraid they will snatch it, or are we afraid they will destroy it?"

"Both," Chen Wuwang did not shift his gaze. "If they snatch it, our three years of planning will be wasted; if they destroy it, we will not even have the chance to make a comeback. So today, this step must be as steady as casting a tripod."

"But the System..." Chen Tiezhu paused, but ultimately did not finish his sentence.

He knew the rules—one cannot mention matters regarding the System.

Chen Wuwang did not respond either, only raising his left hand. A faint, almost invisible light pattern slid out from his sleeve and flashed in the air, disappearing instantly. It was the silent prompt from the family rise system: "The heavenly secrets have not changed, the time is approaching."

He knew what to do.

Wait another quarter of an hour, the third quarter of the Chen hour, the medicinal potency returns to the core.

By then, it will be either a harvest or being intercepted by others.

He stood at the edge of the field like a nail, unmoving. The wind came from the east, carrying the medicinal fragrance, and also a faint scent that did not belong to this land—like the smell of rust mixed with old paper.

He recognized it.

That was the lingering scent of Spirit Pills on the impostor that could not be suppressed.

"Xiao Dao," he spoke again, his voice extremely light. "Southeast corner, ten steps behind the dead tree, there are signs of the turf being disturbed. Keep an eye on that spot, do not blink."

"Understood."

Chen Tiezhu took a deep breath, raised the calibration wrench, and signaled to the Disciples.

The three mechs moved forward slowly, the spiritual energy clamps opening, still three zhang away from the Spirit Plants.

No one spoke.

The wind stopped.

The fallen leaves did not move.

Three hundred meters away, a blade of grass swayed slightly.