I run a casino in the immortal realm.

The gates of the courtyards in Wutong Lane were tightly closed.

Inside the main room, a first-grade high-level spirit-gathering array plate emitted a stable blue light.

Ten low-grade spirit stones were embedded in the groove, and their spiritual energy was forcibly extracted, turning into visible white mist that filled the entire room.

Zheng Yifei sat cross-legged on the bed. His five spiritual roots were operating simultaneously, generating an astonishingly high throughput.

The daily consumption of twenty-five low-grade spirit stones resulted in a frenzied expansion of spiritual power within the Qi Sea.

He carved out a shortcut with spirit stones, a path that would take an ordinary cultivator with three spiritual roots a year to complete.

Two and a half months later.

A muffled tremor came from within the Qi Sea.

The originally abundant spiritual energy instantly contracted, and then returned to nourish the meridians of the whole body in a more condensed form, with a layer of gray-black impurities seeping out from the surface of the skin.

Fifth level of Qi Refining.

It was completed a full fifteen days ahead of schedule.

Zheng Yifei opened his eyes, walked to the Spirit Spring Well, and drew water to wash his body. He then changed into a clean set of linen clothes.

He clenched his fist, feeling the power surging through his meridians. At the fifth level of Qi Refining, his spiritual energy reserves had doubled.

Zhang Biao's Lingxi Finger technique can now be used four times consecutively without depleting one's Qi Sea.

As his cultivation level increased, so did his energy consumption. He did the math.

To break through to the sixth level of Qi Refining, each day upon opening one's eyes, the defensive formation costs eight spirit stones, and cultivation requires thirty-five spirit stones. Adding the payment for running errands for Zhang Biao and the cost of food, the fixed daily expenses approach fifty low-grade spirit stones.

The stock in the hidden compartment is almost gone. I have to go out and make some money.

Zheng Yifei returned to the house and took out the mask with the bitter face of someone in their fifties.

He applied the adhesive, put on the patched-up old brown robe, hunched over, and slowed his pace.

Push open the door and leave the hospital.

Under the awning of the steamed bun shop across the alley, Monkey Three squatted on the ground, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

For two and a half months, seventy-five days, he stared intently at the alley entrance, almost going mad.

An old man slowly walked out of the alley, leaning on a wooden cane, coughed twice, and turned onto Baiyang Street.

Monkey Three glanced at it, then lowered his head and continued to eat his cold bun. He only recognized Zheng Fei, who was in his twenties and at the fourth level of Qi Refining. The old man had nothing to do with him.

Zheng Yifei blended into the crowd and headed straight for the Datong Casino in the East District.

The strategy has changed. Before, he would spend a whole morning at a gambling den, but now he wants to improve efficiency. He doesn't even look at the tables on the first floor of the Grand Casino and goes straight to the second floor.

He found a table where they played a game of guessing odd or even and sat down. The dealer shook the dice. Zheng Yifei closed his eyes, listening intently to the sound waves from the dice hitting the ground.

In the first round, I bet ten yuan and lost.

On the second round, I bet thirty yuan and won.

On the third round, I bet fifty dollars and won.

The pace quickened. He no longer deliberately controlled his win rate to 55%, but instead directly raised it to 70%.

The speed at which he won money doubled, and within an hour, he had an extra 210 spirit stones in his pocket.

He got up and left.

As he entered the alley, he took off his old brown robe, revealing a gray smock underneath. He hadn't changed his bitter-faced mask, but his posture had straightened a bit.

South District, Wan Jin Casino. Pai Gow table.

He memorized the cards, calculated probabilities, and placed precise bets; the combinations of the thirty-two dominoes were rapidly processed in his mind. He bet heavily on high cards and folded on low ones. Another half hour passed, and he had pocketed two hundred and thirty dollars.

After leaving the house, I took a detour and entered the North District Jubao Casino.

Finally, there's the Chang Le Casino in the West District.

Four gambling dens, four different ways to play. Each den only offers a winning of a little over two hundred spirit stones.

The number was strictly controlled. Two hundred spirit stones were insignificant in the flow of water on the second floor and wouldn't trigger the gambling den manager's and thugs' alert line.

At the end of the day, a total of 980 low-grade spirit stones were earned.

As darkness fell, Zheng Yifei climbed back into the courtyard of Wutong Lane along the drainage ditch.

Knock on Zhang Biao's door.

"Brother Zhang, can I run an errand for you?"

Zhang Biao pushed open the door and saw Zheng Yifei handing him a list and one hundred spirit stones.

"This time we need a lot of things. We need spirit meat from second-tier demonic beasts, and we'll replace the spirit rice with mid-grade spirit rice."

Zheng Yifei counted out ten spirit stones and stuffed them into Zhang Biao's hand, saying, "This is for your hard work, brother."

Zhang Biao gripped the spirit stones and swallowed hard. Ten spirit stones—he might not earn that much even if he risked his life in the mountains for ten days.

"Your seclusion is really expensive."

Zhang Biao didn't ask any more questions, took the list and went out.

Half an hour later, Zhang Biao carried three large sacks of supplies over the wall and threw them into the yard.

Zheng Yifei arranged the supplies and filled the array plate with spirit stones. He then bolted the courtyard gate.

He went into seclusion again.

One day out, twenty days in seclusion. This is Zheng Yifei's new rhythm.

West District, Iron Fist Sect stronghold.

Sun Liang kicked over the wooden table in front of him. Teacups shattered on the floor.

"Three months! A full three months!"

Sun Liang pointed at Monkey Three's nose and cursed, "Eight spirit stones a day for the array, that's over seven hundred spirit stones in three months! Where does a rogue cultivator at the fourth level of Qi Refining get so much money to burn?"

Monkey Three shrank his neck and dared not utter a sound.

"Boss, could that kid have died in there?"

Ma Qi stepped forward and asked.

"Dead my ass! Zhang Biao buys hundreds of kilograms of meat and rice every twenty days and throws them in. Can a dead person eat that much?"

Sun Liang, panting heavily, said, "Investigate! Go find Zhou, the head镖师 (bodyguard) of Zhenwei镖局 (Escort Agency), and ask him exactly how much backing he gave this kid!"

Ma Qi accepted the order and ran out.

Two days later, Ma Qi brought back news. Chief Escort Zhou had gone to Zhongzhou on a long-distance escort mission and wouldn't be back for at least six months.

Sun Liang sat in the armchair, the iron clapper clenched so tightly in his hand that it creaked.

He can't afford to waste any more time. The Iron Fist Gang in the West District only earns a little over three hundred yuan a month, and this kid is burning through money faster than he's making it. This is definitely an unprecedentedly fat sheep.

"Keep watching. As soon as the formation stops, smash the door down immediately."

In the courtyard of Wutong Lane.

Twenty days passed. The spiritual energy within Zheng Yifei's dantian once again reached the edge of saturation.

He stopped his practice, changed into a mask depicting a bitter face, and put on an old robe. He went outside.

As usual, Monkey Three squatted at the alley entrance, dozing off, completely ignoring the old man who came out.

Today was incredibly lucky. The Datong Casino had a new, less experienced dealer, and Zheng Yifei won all three hands in a row at the high/low betting table, netting 350 yuan to the gambling house alone.

After visiting all four gambling dens, he had an extra 1,050 low-grade spirit stones in his pocket.

He didn't rush home. Instead, he went to the Shunfeng Inn in the North District.

The innkeeper was doing the accounts. Zheng Yifei walked to the counter and tapped on the table.

"Find Chief Escort Zhou."

The shopkeeper looked up and recognized the generous young man.

"Brother Zheng, Chief Escort Zhou has gone on a long mission to Zhongzhou. He won't be back for at least half a year."

Zheng Yifei nodded, counted out twenty-five low-grade spirit stones from the bag, and placed them on the counter.

"Please trouble you, shopkeeper, when Chief Escort Zhou returns, give him these twenty spirit stones and have him take them back to Black Mountain Market for my parents. Tell them that I am safe and sound in Suzhou and that my cultivation has improved. These five spirit stones are for you."

The shopkeeper deftly collected the spirit stones, patting his chest assuring him, "Brother Zheng, rest assured, I will definitely deliver the message."

Back in Wutong Lane, they replenished their supplies and continued their seclusion.

Time slipped away amidst the monotonous meditation and the rapid depletion of spirit stones.

Three months later.

Inside the main room, the first-grade high-level spirit gathering array plate emitted a humming sound as it struggled under the strain. At the array's core, the ten low-grade spirit stones shattered simultaneously, turning into a pile of grayish-white powder.

Zheng Yifei suddenly opened his eyes.

Within the Qi Sea, spiritual energy liquefied into droplets. Each drop of pure spiritual liquid fell to the bottom of the dantian, emitting a crisp dripping sound. The five meridians were widened by two times, and the flow of spiritual energy was unimpeded.

Qi Refining Level 6.

He stood up and walked into the yard.

He raised his right hand, extending his index finger. His spiritual energy was compressed intensely, with not a trace of light leaking from his fingertip.

Point it out.

"puff."

Three zhang away, the bluestone slab on the courtyard wall used for testing was instantly pierced, the edge of the hole was as smooth as a mirror, and it was three feet deep.

Without pausing, he raised his hand again.

Point out six fingers in succession.

The Qi Sea had barely reached its bottom.

At the sixth level of Qi Refining, the power of the Spiritual Finger doubles, and the number of times it can be used increases to six. Combined with the instant-cast fireball spell and close combat, he is now confident that he can kill a cultivator at the eighth level of Qi Refining within three breaths.