After sowing seeds across the Spiritual Fields, Zhou Yan and Diao Chan emerged dirt-streaked but content. Farming alongside her brought him joy, yet he stayed sober. Beauty demanded strength to shield it—war lords prowled the Lord Continent, preying on the weak. Power alone secured what mattered, daunting foes and freeing him to live as he pleased. Development trumped all.
At the Spiritual Spring, Zhou Yan suggested, "Try this water." He dipped his grimy hands in, watching the filth dissolve instantly. "That's some potency," he said, grinning. Scooping a handful, he drank—sweet, smooth, refreshing. Nongfu Spring paled in comparison, unfit for the contest.
"Delicious!" Diao Chan agreed, sipping with delight.
"No containers, though," Zhou Yan mused. "I could sell this." Inspiration struck—he searched the trading hall for "bamboo." At this stage, bamboo suited water storage best. Results popped up—lords in bamboo-rich zones cashed in. Prices stayed fair; one, [Little Guaiguai], offered 10 spirit coins per piece, 100 on sale. Too lazy to friend them, he snapped it up.
[Territory Prompt: "[National Trading Hall] Purchased 100 bamboo. Consumed 1,000 spirit coins."]
Elsewhere, [Little Guaiguai] blinked at her prompt, round eyes widening. Her stock vanished in one swoop—pure glee. She relisted at the same rate, undeterred by bamboo's abundance. No takers followed, but she sent villagers to chop more, unfazed.
Zhou Yan segmented the bamboo. "Chan'er, help me fill these—it's gold waiting to happen."
"Sure," she replied, catching his plan to sell the spring water.
"Why not irrigate first?" she asked.
"Higher levels mean better water," he explained. "Won't that boost the fields more?"
"Oh, smart," she said, nodding. His foresight impressed her anew.
They filled the bamboo jars—roughly 100ml each, doubled for larger ones. Checking the trading hall, Zhou Yan found no "Spiritual Spring" listings. Broader "spiritual water" searches hit paydirt in the [International Trading Hall]: "Fine Nectar Jade Dew," 100ml for 100,000 spirit coins. A robbery, ignored by all. His level 1 spring offered subtler, long-term gains, so he priced each jar at 1,000 spirit coins—10,000 per liter. Grouping ten jars, he listed them at 10,500 for simplicity, aligning with his round 10,000-coin batches.
[Territory Prompt: "[International Trading Hall] Sold one Spiritual Spring set. Gained 10,000 spirit coins."]
Seconds after listing, a set vanished. "Are they glued to the hall?" he wondered, stunned.
[Territory Prompt: "[National Trading Hall] Sold one-star Spiritual Spring set. Gained 10,000 spirit coins."]
[Territory Prompt: "[National Trading Hall] Sold one-star Spiritual Spring set. Gained 10,000 spirit coins."]
…
He'd planned a chat room hype, but buyers pounced too fast. In minutes, hundreds of thousands of spirit coins flooded in—water turned to wealth at breakneck speed. Then, new alerts pinged.
[Territory Prompt: "Your hidden sales in [National Trading Hall] draw attention."]
[Territory Prompt: "Your hidden sales in [National Trading Hall] catch [Moonlit Pavilion]'s eye."]
[Territory Prompt: "Your hidden sales in [National Trading Hall] attract [Penguin Group · 100th · Yang Fei]."]
…
Anonymity cloaked him, but quality goods lured followers. They'd track his listings via transaction logs, pouncing on future drops. Contact required rare props—like Qin Yao's—else they stayed at arm's length. He could reveal "Heavenly Court," but trouble deterred him. Privacy held firm unless breached by elite tools. His follower count ticked up—curiosity over his spring's source swelled, some craving bulk deals. He brushed it off; the trading hall sufficed for now.
Still, he peeked at the [National Channel]:
"Shock! Spiritual Spring hits the hall—who's this lucky bastard? Day two with that haul means they've cracked the fog."
"So much of it! Broke as hell, or I'd snag some."
"It's prime—drinking, irrigating, even bathing."
"Bathing in it? That's trashing a treasure."
"Penguin Group here—seeking the spring seller for a big buy."
"Jingdong Group—spring friend, hit me up. Name your price."
"Private farming lord—brother, spill the spring's origin?"