The majestic city walls of the base city, along with the towering structures within, were soon visible in the distance. Ye Chen quickened his pace, charging toward the gates, his footfalls leaving distinct prints on the ground.

As he neared the city entrance, the surrounding crowd began to swell. Seeing Ye Chen sprinting while carrying the carcass of an immense monster, people instinctively scattered to the sides, their faces a mixture of awe and unconcealed envy.

The guards stationed at the gate quickly pulled back, none daring to obstruct him to check for city entry permits. Upon entering the base city, Ye Chen proceeded directly to the residence where Xu Tianguo and the others were staying. He deposited the corpse of the Iron Armored Mastiff at the foot of the building, then went up to summon Xu Tianguo and the rest.

“Did you hunt this?” Xu Tianguo asked, staring at the deceased Iron Armored Mastiff in utter astonishment.

Ye Chen nodded. “This monster’s blood is highly nutritious, enough for your sustenance. Its outer hide can be fashioned into armor—even a dozen-level monster won't easily tear through it. From here on, it depends on your individual progress. Work hard, and do not disappoint me.”

Xu Tianguo exchanged glances with the others; their spirits felt somewhat heavy.

“How is the collection of carcasses progressing?” Ye Chen inquired of Xu Tianguo.

Xu Tianguo offered a wry smile. “We’ve secured warehouses recently, finalized the prices, and recruited a batch of ordinary folk to spread the word throughout the city. Many people have started selling things to us these past few days, and the momentum is ferocious. I worry that if this continues, we won't have enough funds on hand.”

“It’s fine. Collect as much as you can,” Ye Chen stated calmly. “Just let me know when the funds run short; I will find a way.”

Xu Tianguo nodded slightly.

After giving a few more instructions, Ye Chen departed and headed toward the General’s Encampment.

Along the way, he noticed many people strolling casually on the lawns, appearing quite relaxed. In reality, after intense and stimulating battles, most people sought a place to unwind; some preferred the opulent establishments, while others favored quiet spots for repose.

“Look, isn’t that Ye Chen?”

“Wow, look at his battered state—he’s missing clothes.”

“He actually dared to challenge Yun Shaojing? He clearly doesn't know his own limitations; even a Great General is like a dog beneath Yun Shaojing.”

Many people cast disdainful, contemptuous glances his way. Ye Chen maintained a serene expression, ignoring their words. In the eyes of others, he was merely a reckless brute—exactly the impression he intended to give.

Arriving at his quarters, he picked up a towel and headed toward the communal bathhouse.

Within the General’s Encampment, there was a large public bath, originally a reservoir that had been renovated. The underground water intake system was connected to the Production Department, which drew water from the great river nearby. After testing by the Scientific Research Department confirmed it was harmless to the human body, the water was pumped directly into the pool.

When Ye Chen arrived, the bath was already occupied by several people—some swimming in the pool, others leaning by the edge, leisurely smoking ouyan. Since female generals were rare in the Encampment, most bathers were evolutionaries who had their own private facilities.

Wearing only swim trunks, Ye Chen approached the edge of the pool and began washing the accumulated grime from his body.

“Hey, the tough guy who challenged Yun Shaojing?”

“Yun Shaojing hasn’t been around these days, or he’d be fertilizer by now.”

“Fighting over a woman—what a trashy man.”

Conversations buzzed around him, yet Ye Chen seemed not to hear, maintaining his calm demeanor as he finished washing. Afterward, despite the pointing and whispering, he languidly soaked for a while before slowly rising to leave as the night deepened.

For the next two days, Ye Chen only ventured out occasionally to hunt monsters.

Since mastering Qili (Force/Essence Energy), Ye Chen had stopped sleeping at night, dedicating the hours instead to cultivation. This Qili was referred to as the Breath of Life, existing in thin concentrations in the air, inhaled along with oxygen to nourish the soul.

The soul was a far more mysterious entity.

No one could deny its existence, yet no one could see it. Once, a scientist conducted an experiment, measuring the weight of a person nearing death. At the exact moment of expiration, the person’s weight dropped by one gram.

In the field of supernatural science, the soul’s reality was proven without stepping beyond the scope of technology. Just as light, sunlight, and temperature were forms of energy, the soul was essentially a type of energy, albeit one that was more profound.

The soul burned ceaselessly, its fuel being the Breath of Life; once the fuel was spent, it extinguished—hence the ancient saying: “When a person dies, the lamp goes out.” The lamp flame represented the soul, and the lamp oil, the Breath of Life.

He sat cross-legged, hands resting on his knees—the posture of Buddhist chan meditation. Many ancient texts described this exact position. Whether Daoist or Buddhist, sitting cross-legged was deliberate: the human body possesses numerous meridians, and the five most potent points for gathering the Breath of Life were the center of the soles of the feet, the palms of the hands, and the Baihui point atop the head. This configuration, known as ‘Five Points Facing Heaven,’ established a circulatory energy field from bottom to top.

This explained why some people became weak and mentally sluggish after sleeping in bed too long or not walking for extended periods: the yongquan acupoint on the soles of their feet had been deprived of the Breath of Life emanating from the earth, leading to depleted spirit and deteriorating health, making them susceptible to various ailments.

Thus, those who frequently exercised and ran maintained excellent spirits and physical condition. This was due both to improved blood circulation during the run and the absorption of the earth’s Breath of Life through the soles of their feet.

After settling into the cross-legged position, Ye Chen’s spirit entered a state as tranquil as still water. A faint warmth began to emanate from the soles of his feet. Over time, this warmth gradually ascended past the feet to his lower abdomen, enveloping his body in a comfortable warmth—not a dry heat, which would indicate incorrect practice (qi deviation), necessitating an immediate halt to prevent uncontrollable currents within the meridians, causing irreparable harm.

Ye Chen could practically feel the thin Breath of Life entering through the Baihui point on his crown and the points on his palms and soles, circulating within his body. His entire being felt buoyant, as if seated upon the clouds—utterly blissful.

An entire night passed. Ye Chen perceived that the Qili within him had increased by one percent of its original volume. He needed at least another three hundred percent growth to reach the second stage of Qili. Under normal cultivation rates, this would take nearly a year.

...

Dawn broke, and sunlight streamed across the horizon.

Ye Chen descended from his sleeping mat, stretching his slightly numb legs from the prolonged sitting, then got out of bed for breakfast. His meal consisted of the heart of some unknown monster, pan-fried to medium-rare and sliced like a steak.

Knock, knock~~

A sharp rapping sounded.

Ye Chen rose from the dining table and walked to open the door, where a set of earthy-brown robes obscured his view. Then, a bell-like laugh sounded from behind the fabric. “My handiwork isn’t too bad, is it?”

The robes were lowered, revealing Murong Xue’s exquisite face, framed by a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Ye Chen managed a slight, wry smile. “So early. Have you eaten breakfast?”

“I ate already,” Murong Xue replied dismissively, holding the robe out to Ye Chen, her expression eager. “How is it? Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Ye Chen admitted sincerely. The robe was sized almost perfectly for him. For a young lady of Murong Xue’s stature to sew a beast hide so neatly fitted was truly remarkable.

“Hmm?” Ye Chen’s gaze suddenly flickered to Murong Xue’s fingers. He noticed several tiny pinpricks of blood on what should have been her delicate, white skin, and a tremor went through him. The hand holding the robe tightened slightly, and he stared at her for a long moment, his expression slowly softening.

He remembered only his mother sewing clothes for him as a child, sitting under the lamplight late into the night, stitching thread by thread, occasionally batting away mosquitoes that bothered her feet.

After that, it had only been him and his sister, depending on each other. He had many acquaintances, but not a single true friend. In his memory, aside from his parents, no one had ever been this kind to him.

Never.

It was obvious Murong Xue was not born knowing how to sew. She must have pricked her delicate hand countless times during the process, especially since the needles used to penetrate the beast hide were crafted from extremely sharp special metal.

There was no conspiracy, no exploitation—just a purely selfless act of help. To Ye Chen, who had experienced little genuine warmth, Murong Xue, like a pristine white sheet of paper, felt too pure to defile.