Wang Tian leaned forward. "Senior Jian, what heavenly treasures do you need for your body reconstruction?"

  Jian Feng pondered, his spectral form shimmering faintly. "Hmm... Reconstructing my body demands precious, rare treasures. But first—above all—I must strengthen my soul. For that, I need abundant soul-nourishing treasures."

  Wang Tian and Wang Jian fell into heavy silence. Soul-strengthening pills and herbs were legends among spirit cultivators—rarer than phoenix feathers. Even royal families and the Radiant Cloud Sect struggled to obtain them. They grew only in extreme environments, devouring vast spiritual energy.

  And Spirit cultivators themselves were mythic: rare powerhouses who could dismantle a fortress or high-level beast with a "shatter note"—a single pulse of spirit energy that set the target vibrating to dust. They could even "retune" a wounded ally's mangled spirit veins into harmony, mending what pills could not touch. Yet in the Phoenix Wing Empire's entire history, not one had emerged. Soul energy, their core, demanded endless nourishment—impossible without those elusive treasures.

  Jian Feng smiled at their grim expressions. "I know these are elusive in your small empire. No need to rush—take your time. I am deeply grateful for Patriarch Wang's kindness."

  Wang Tian clasped his hands. "Senior Jian is too polite. You are my brother's master; a master is like a father to his disciple. It is his duty to aid you—and as his brother, mine as well."

  Jian Feng's soul stirred with warmth. Accepting Wang Jian felt like his wisest choice in three millennia. Words failed him; he simply nodded in profound gratitude.

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  They conversed lightly a while longer. As Wang Jian and Jian Feng prepared to depart, the Sword Sovereign paused. "Patriarch Wang... how did you sense me?" It had gnawed at him—his peak Immortal Realm aura, sealed in a supreme artifact. Yet Wang Tian had pierced it effortlessly.

  Wang Tian's smile deepened, enigmatic. Jian Feng read the refusal in it and pressed no further. With a swirl of light, he retreated into the Chaos Jade Bracelet, resuming his cultivation. Wang Jian bowed and left for his courtyard.

  Alone now, Wang Tian summoned his System shop, scanning soul treasures. The prime ones gleamed out of reach—astronomical prices. Cheaper options existed, but he held back. No need for suspicions yet. He retired to his chamber and immersed in cultivation.

  In a blink, a week vanished. The pool base for Marrow Cleansing Liquid stood complete; refinement had begun. Wang Chun reported it all in the grand hall.

  Then, heavy footsteps echoed. A man entered—six feet tall, mid-forties in appearance, robes dust-worn from travel. He strode forward, bowed low before Wang Tian. "First Elder Wang An greets the Patriarch."

  Wang An—the one dispatched to the Royal City for Wang Jian's medicine. Per Wang Tian's orders, Wang Chun had recalled him. But his voice drooped, defeated.

  "Uncle, you've returned! Please, sit," Wang Tian said warmly, rising with a smile.

  Wang An didn't budge, eyes downcast. Confusion flickered across Wang Tian and Wang Chun's faces. Before they could speak—

  "I'm sorry, Tian'er," Wang An rasped, voice cracking. "I couldn't secure the medicine for Wang Jian. The Radiant Cloud Sect news... it scared everyone off. No one would help. Forgive my failure for such a simple task..."

  Shame bowed his head lower; he couldn't meet their eyes.

  Wang Tian's heart twisted. Wang Chun spoke first, voice steady. "Brother Wang An, don't blame yourself. We expected this, didn't we? And from now on... Wang Jian needs no medicine."

  Wang An blinked, lifting his gaze in bewilderment.

  Hearing this, Wang An was a little confused. Seeing Wang An's expression, Wang Chun explained everything to him properly.