5: Making money requires skill; prohibitions demonstrate their power.

The instant the waning moon hid behind the clouds, Lin Yang clutched the empty bag of demon cores. The coarse cloth bag rubbed against the calluses on his palm, making a dry, raspy sound, much like his currently depleted Dantian. The flame of vengeance burned fiercely in his chest, yet even maintaining the minimum level of Cultivation had become a luxury

—the last third-tier demon core had turned to ash last night. The scattered broken silver on the desk amounted to less than half a tael, not even enough to buy the cheapest healing ointment at the pharmacy by the town entrance.

"Power... resources..." he muttered to the bronze mirror. The reflection showed a Young Man with sunken eyes, yet his gaze was startlingly bright. "I must gather enough demon cores within three days, or else even the qualification to sense Spiritual Qi will completely vanish."

His fingertips unconsciously tapped the wooden table, suddenly touching the cold edge of the inkstone. The chaos star core trembled slightly in his Sea of Consciousness, and three twisted, swirling ancient characters slowly awakened like sleeping Dragons. These were the mysterious symbols he had discovered on the chaos star core, symbols that had caused his Divine Soul to violently shake upon first sight, as if he had glimpsed a forbidden power that the heavens and earth could not tolerate.

"Perhaps..." Lin Yang abruptly rose, rummaging through boxes and cabinets to find the remaining half ream of Xuan Paper. He then soaked his polished Wolf Hair Brush in Pine Soot Ink. He took a deep breath, focused his mind, and closed his eyes, desperately trying to reproduce the outline of the first character in his mind

—the strokes resembled wood eaten by worms or thunder splitting stone. The starting point concealed three parts femininity, but the finish carried seven parts masculinity.

The Wolf Hair Brush dragged across the paper, making a soft rustling sound. As the first stroke landed, the Xuan Paper actually emitted a faint golden light before quickly dimming. Cold sweat beaded on Lin Yang's forehead, and his fingertips trembled uncontrollably, as if every stroke was prying at the Foundation of his Divine Soul. The instant the final stroke was flicked upwards, his throat sweetened, and a metallic, bloody scent rushed into his nostrils.

"Pfft!"

The paper surface suddenly erupted with spiderweb-like scorch marks, then curled into ash with crackling sounds, and even the ink evaporated without a trace. Lin Yang stumbled backward, knocking over the wooden stool behind him. His chest felt as if it had been crushed by a boulder, and even breathing brought tearing pain.

"Such a powerful Backlash..." He leaned on the edge of the table, gasping for breath, yet he saw the scattered paper ash swirling and dancing in the moonlight, faintly forming the residual image of the character. "But this Power of Annihilation..."

Determination flashed in his eyes. He retrieved three raw eggs from the kitchen and wrapped them layer by layer in thin paper. When he lifted the brush again, his wrist was steady as a rock, and his Sea of Consciousness deliberately suppressed the character's power. This time, as the ink mark settled, the thin paper instantly turned to fine powder and rustled down, revealing the perfectly intact eggshells beneath. He could even clearly see the tiny pores on the shells.

"It's done!" Lin Yang clapped his hands and chuckled softly, his knuckles white from exertion. "stone root grass embryo!"

Carrying the heavy seven taels of broken silver, he knocked on the general store's door before the morning mist had dispersed. The Shopkeeper rubbed his sleepy eyes and brought out seven grayish-black raw stones, each the size of a fist, their surfaces covered in ice cracks. Faintly visible inside were root systems resembling coiled Dragons

—these were the stone root grass embryos. It would take the pharmacy three days to peel away the stone, which was why seven raw stones were only worth seven taels, but the complete roots after stripping could be sold for ten times the price.

Returning to the small courtyard, Lin Yang placed the raw stones under the moonlight. He bit his tongue, using the sharp pain to stay awake. The Wolf Hair Brush was now soaked not in Pine Soot Ink, but in Cinnabar mixed with three drops of his fingertip blood. The instant the brush tip touched the raw stone, he let out a low shout, his Sea of Consciousness fully activating the chaos star core.

"Break!"

The moment the ink mark permeated the stone, tiny sparks burst from the raw stone's surface. As the final stroke was completed, the entire stone peeled away layer by layer like a shortbread cookie, turning into bright white fine sand that leaked through his fingers. In the center of the sand pile, a pale purple Stone Root Grass lay quietly, its fibrous roots completely intact, with crystal clear dew still clinging to its leaves.

"The way to wealth is here!" Lin Yang pinched the grass root and sniffed it lightly. The bitter medicinal fragrance was more intoxicating than any fine nectar at that moment. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his temples, he continued to wield the brush. When the seventh Stone Root Grass lay on the bluestone slab, his vision blurred, and he leaned against the wall, dry-heaving, bile burning his throat.

In the twilight three days later, Lin Yang delivered the last package of Stone Root Grass into the back alley of Huichun Hall. The pharmacy's Shopkeeper weighed the heavy money bag, looked at the Young Man's pale yet sharp profile, and couldn't help but ask, "Young Man, your stripping technique is quite clean and efficient."

"An ancestral skill." Lin Yang took the money bag, his fingertips touching the cold edges of the silver. He silently counted

—nine hundred taels, exactly enough to buy fifteen sixth-tier demon cores.

When he returned to the desolate small courtyard, the moon was high overhead. Lin Yang arranged the fifteen demon cores, which emitted a faint blue glow, into a ring and sat cross-legged in the center. The chaos star core hummed in his Sea of Consciousness. As the first wisp of Demonic Power was drawn into his Dantian, he suddenly realized that the mental exhaustion caused by writing the Forbidden Characters over the past few days had, invisibly, refined a purer Divine Sense. When circulating the Chaos Swallowing Heaven Art, even the speed of absorbing Demonic Power was thirty percent faster.

"So the Forbidden Characters aren't just a way to make money..." He felt the surging power in his Meridians, and a cold arc curled up the corner of his mouth. "They are also a furnace for tempering the Divine Soul."

Moonlight streamed through the broken window lattice, weaving a silver veil around him. The fifteen demon cores lit up simultaneously, like stars fallen into the mortal world, and slowly transformed into the firewood nourishing the flame of vengeance under the rhythm of the Chaos Swallowing Heaven Art.