Chen Lin set up a simple Soundproofing Formation.
Then he returned to the stone table in the backyard and sat down.
The peach tree cast its shadow over the tabletop, its leaves filtering the light into scattered flecks.
He opened the rosewood box.
The Purple Firmament Divine Thunder Talisman lay quietly inside.
Crimson patterns flowed slowly across its surface, like some living creature that had slept for centuries and finally caught the scent of food.
An invisible suction spread outward from the talisman.
The spiritual energy within the backyard's Spirit-Gathering Formation was visibly drawn toward it, like tiny streams converging on the center of a whirlpool.
Chen Lin frowned.
This thing was like a glutton that had gone hungry for centuries.
He extended his right hand and pressed his palm against the talisman.
His eighth-level Qi Refining spiritual power surged from his dantian, coursing through his meridians into his fingertips and then into the talisman.
It vanished without a trace, like a clay ox sinking into the sea.
Fifteen minutes.
For a full fifteen minutes, Chen Lin poured his spiritual power into it like water into an abyss, yet the patterns on its surface brightened by less than ten percent.
He withdrew his hand. His palm tingled, nearly thirty percent of the spiritual power in his dantian had been consumed, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his temples.
The talisman treasure had not even come close to satisfying its hunger.
Chen Lin stared at the palm-sized talisman for three seconds, his face expressionless.
As expected, something at the Core Formation stage was beyond what a Qi Refining cultivator could feed through sheer effort.
The gap was the gap. There was no rushing it.
He changed tactics, turning his hand over to take ten low-grade spirit stones from his Storage