They both land on the platform from which they took off the day prior to go to the Starsword Peak and then head down the cliff to the sect proper.

There are far more disciples here than there were the previous time. Judging by their robes, not all of them are from the Galaxy Sword sect.

“The sect is lively today,” Lan Xiaohui remarks as the two make their way from the landing platform and down the main road toward the Alchemy Hall.

“It is because of the Junior Tournament. It is taking place today,” Wu Yulan says.

“The Junior Tournament is that important?”

Wu Yulan shakes her head. “It is not the Junior Tournament itself. During this time, cultivators are allowed into the sect. Within certain areas only, of course,” she explains.

Lan Xiaohui nods.

“During the main event, the sect allows outside cultivators to challenge even sect members, so this is a good opportunity to find out about sect disciples who could be challenged,” Wu Yulan explains. “Though I don’t know of any such challenges happening. After all, these are all cultivators who have passed more than ten floors of the Pagoda of Introspection and practiced martial arts here for five years. But that is why so many disciples are heading to the various Halls; they are exchanging their contributions for rare manuals and medicine in front of everyone to discourage any thoughts of challenging them, just in case.”

Lan Xiaohui’s brows furrow at those words as she perceives the outline of a potential problem.

It is true that the sect disciples here have practiced martial arts for five years and come from illustrious backgrounds, but the same cannot be said for Lan Xiaohui who has had a terrible result at the Pagoda and has not even begun practicing the sect's martial arts yet.

“Yulan, does that mean that I could be challenged?” Lan Xiaohui asks.

At this, Wu Yulan purses her lips. After a few seconds, she responds: “I don’t think so. The Elders were against us competing in the Tournament in the first place, and we are not officially disciples of the Galaxy Sword sect yet.”

Satisfied with this answer, Lan Xiaohui nods once more.

“Just to be safe, let us quickly conclude our business here,” my owner says.

Wu Yulan nods and hurries towards the Alchemy Hall.

At the Alchemy Hall, there is but a single Deacon managing the store and it is with great bureaucratic efficiency that Wu Yulan immediately sets upon him and begins negotiating an investment deal to the slight but silent annoyance of the other disciples that were here before us.

In a single breath, Wu Yulan expounds on more farming and business concepts than the Deacon had likely heard in the entirety of any single day and, with the help of the dissatisfied glares of the other disciples who are clearly becoming impatient, manages to convince him to not only hand over thirty percent more seeds than what is usually given but to also take only seven percent of the first harvest, instead of ten — on top of the eight percent that the sect takes as taxes.

Wu Yulan may not only be a genius sword cultivator, but she may also be a monstrous businesswoman. It is clear that this is not her first time negotiating — a skill she likely learned by rejecting the advances of young masters from other clans trying to force her into a marriage she did not want.

I am equally impressed with the sect’s business model. A low one-time cost to enter the industry followed by eternal taxes.

I instruct Lan Xiaohui on which seeds to pick and then browse the wares on display.

The Alchemy Hall has many items on display, from medicinal pills and pastes to alchemical furnaces and cauldrons. Some of these are of quite a high grade as well, like the Supreme grade [Cerulean Skysteel Cauldron], which has an output efficiency twice that of mine and an internal storage volume of ten cubic meters.

My undocumented features view this cauldron as an upstart that cannot compete with our storage volume, while at the same time denouncing it as an affront to our existence due to its higher efficiency.

There is even an anonymous petition to scrap the cauldron as a message to the other cauldrons; even though it is anonymous, I am certain to a high degree that it came from Delta.

I allow myself to entertain a faint sliver of hope that with a greater sea of consciousness, my undocumented features will be less incoherent and deviant, and perhaps develop the capability to perform their intended function: be useful.

The selection of seeds is not ideal either. Most of them have dual natures and will require careful balancing and integration. Some of them cannot even coexist within the same area, like the water lotus and the fire lingzhi, the only two items on display with a pure nature.

The seeds themselves have a grade, but it is not the same grading system that I am familiar with. The grade of medicinal items is most precisely expressed in years — or rather, the equivalent of years of growth and Qi absorption. A ten year fire lingzhi I would recognize as a Sky grade material, but a ten thousand year purple soulgrass would only register as an Earth grade material, even though it is far more potent than the fire lingzhi.

In other words, my grading system does not work for medicinal materials.

By the time Lan Xiaohui is done and hands the seeds over, the Deacon realizes the kind of deal he had just made with Wu Yulan and how handily he was defeated in the negotiations.

He laughs and then slides over two spheres that contain a light blue rock within them.

“What is this?” Lan Xiaohui asks.

“They are water bead devices. They will help keep the plots irrigated,” the Deacon says with a smile. “Consider it an expression of my gratitude for entertaining me today.”

Lan Xiaohui smiles. “Thank you,” she says and shoves the seeds and water bead devices into my internal storage.

Wu Yulan wears a satisfied and triumphant smile as she follows Lan Xiaohui to the streets outside the Alchemy Hall, but it is quickly wiped off her expression when she too senses an incredible aura of hostility aimed at them.

They only manage to take a few steps outside of the Alchemy Hall when a deep voice calls out to them — or rather, one person in particular.

“Xuelian!”

The nearby disciples all look in the direction of the voice — the Sect Hall where Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan met the elders only recently — and then begin to clear the way for whoever is approaching.

Lan Xiaohui on the other hand does not even look toward the person and instead frowns and furrows her eyebrows.

“Who are you to call me by my first name like we share some familiarity?” she asks and I sense a praise-worthy degree of hostility rising in her heart which stimulates my appetite.

“Tian Xing!” the deep voice bellows in reply.

“Never heard of you!” Lan Xiaohui says with a scornful tone.