Jing Wen slowly rose from his meditation cushion. The spiritual power swirling around him receded like a tide, finally settling into stillness.
He lowered his head to examine his palm. The faint spiritual radiance beneath his skin had now vanished completely, and even his breathing was indistinguishable from a mortal's.
"Minor mastery of the second level of the Breath-Concealing Art..." he murmured, his voice echoing softly against the secret chamber's stone walls. "As long as I don't encounter a late Foundation Establishment cultivator, I should be fine."
The bronze mirror in the corner reflected his figure-an utterly unremarkable-looking early Foundation Establishment cultivator. No one could have imagined that this body concealed divine sense approaching the Golden Core realm.
"In another two or three months, once I fully master the second level of the Breath-Concealing Art, I'll be able to fool every Foundation Establishment Stage cultivator."
His quiet words lingered in the secret chamber, carrying a measure of confidence and anticipation.
Of course, he qualified that thought inwardly: beings like himself, whose divine sense already rivaled the Golden Core realm, naturally fell outside that group.
After all, in the Cultivation World, the most crucial factor in discerning a cultivator's cultivation level was the strength of one's divine sense.
Powerful divine sense was like a vast, invisible net, capable of catching the faintest threads of another person's spiritual power fluctuations, seeing through disguises, and distinguishing illusion from reality.
Thinking of the importance of divine sense, Jing Wen could not help recalling his earlier experience of strengthening it with Soul-Nourishing Pills, and countless emotions stirred within him.
Soul-Type Pills possessed exceptionally potent effects. Obtaining the Pill Formula for the Soul-Nourishing Pill, then happening to meet Old Zhou, who could procure ghost mortar grass, had truly been a stroke of overflowing luck.
As the