Han Li carried the wooden box containing the "Jin Zhu Pen" with great delight, walking back toward the pavilion. He had exchanged three bottles of "Huang Long Dan" and four bottles of "Jin Mei Wan" with the young girl for this treasure and the bag of Seven-Star Grass seeds. Then, he casually purchased a few bottles of cinnabar at other stalls before rushing back with eager anticipation to begin his spell-casting endeavor. After breaking through the magical seal and entering the small pavilion, Han Li found the young monk still meditating, and instead of disturbing him, he ascended to the second floor and returned to his room. He arranged the talisman paper and cinnabar neatly on the table, then took out the Jin Zhu Pen and began working on the "Ding Shen Spell." Following the method described in the Dingshen Technique, he slowly channeled his spiritual energy through his right hand, into the pen shaft, and then lightly touched the tip of the pen to the cinnabar, drawing the spell onto a sheet of paper. Half an hour later, Han Li sat up straight with a smile, stretched his slightly aching back, and gazed at the shimmering spirit scroll on the table, his heart filled with delight. Visually, the scroll was identical to the one used by Doctor Mo, though the embedded qi was a bit fainter. Still, compared to the subpar ones he had previously crafted during his practice sessions—mere facsimiles that contained no actual qi at all—it was vastly superior. After all, those practice scrolls only resembled the real thing in appearance. With the newly created scroll in his hands, Han Li eagerly examined it, then prepared to attempt the Calming Spirit Technique. Yet just as he began to chant the incantation, the qi within the scroll suddenly became disordered, as though about to surge and burst forth. Han Li was startled and, without hesitation, quickly tossed the scroll into the air. "Pffft!" It ignited spontaneously in mid-air, transforming into a bright ball of flame that burned it completely to ashes. Han Li stared blankly at the empty space above, speechless. After a while, he sighed, realizing the seal had ultimately failed. Although slightly disheartened, Han Li still held firm in his confidence. He believed the seal he had just cast was already very close to success, and with a little more effort and several more attempts, success was surely within reach. Thus, over the next half-day, Han Li crafted one after another of the stabilizing spirit seals—only for them to fail again and again. The spirit seals either burned themselves out or suddenly burst into small explosions. Some simply vanished as soon as completed, their spiritual energy dissipating rapidly, leaving behind mere sheets of blank paper. When, upon seeing the final seal he had just finished, it too shattered into fragments with a sharp "pop," Han Li—usually so composed—could no longer contain himself. He looked up at the ceiling and suddenly shouted, "Dead sky! You're playing tricks on me! I've tried twelve seals—how come none of them have succeeded? These are merely basic, lower-tier stabilizing spirit seals! Could it be that today's auspicious day was simply wrong?" After uttering these words, Han Li felt his inner frustration lightened and his mood eased. He then tilted his head, glanced at the box of cinnabar on the table, which had only half its contents left, and at the golden Zhuzhu pen, and concluded that the issue wasn't with either of these. For the spiritual energy had flowed smoothly into the pen's handle, and once the cinnabar was drawn onto the scroll, it had also radiated a vibrant, lively energy—clearly not counterfeit. Unable to pinpoint the cause at first, Han Li pondered for a while before finally deciding to ask the young monk for his opinion, hoping to gain clarity. At that moment, he realized how crucial it was to have a senior mentor or teacher on one's journey in cultivation, and a sense of desire to become a disciple began to stir within him. After listening to Han Li's complaint about his failed incantation, the young monk stared at him with an unusually strange gaze, as though a charming white flower had suddenly bloomed on Han Li's face. Han Li felt a bit uneasy seeing the abbot look at him like that, unsure what he might have said wrong earlier. "Perhaps Master Ku San is right—Han, you may not be very familiar with the art of creating talismans," the young monk finally spoke. "That is true," Han Li admitted honestly. "In our community of cultivators, few people actually create talismans themselves. Most of the time, when we need a specific spiritual talisman, we go to various markets and purchase them. Even members of noble families do the same." "Why is that?" Han Li was surprised. "It's simple—there are simply not many experienced, full-time talisman artisans. And training a qualified one is both time-consuming and costly. Only the larger, established cultivation sects have the resources to support such training," the monk smiled. "Doesn't it feel rather embarrassing to you, Han, that you've failed ten or twelve times in a row?" the monk asked. "Yes, just the cost of the materials alone would be enough to buy me several pre-made calming seals!" Han Li sighed in frustration. "But have you heard this? For a beginner learning to create seals, experiencing consecutive failures—up to a hundred times—is entirely normal. If the person has average talent, failing hundreds of times in a row isn't unusual at all! Only after mastering the process a thousand times does the success rate begin to improve—this applies only to the same type of spiritual seal. Even when switching to a different kind of seal, although they may no longer be considered complete beginners, the initial failure rate remains astonishingly high. Therefore, a qualified seal-maker must undergo tens of thousands of practice sessions before being truly developed. Yet, think about this, Han Li—how many people could possibly bear such material losses?" Even among the master calligraphers trained in great immortal sects, most can only achieve excellence at the beginner level of seal-making. To expect them to master intermediate seal-making would likely force the great sects to go bankrupt—simply unable to bear the cost. After all, the higher the rank of the seal, the more expensive the materials required become. The spiritual seals used in spirit techniques cannot simply be activated by channeling spiritual energy—they require a certain incantation and ritual performance, though the process is generally not complicated and easy to master. "Since these practitioners frequently use the same type of seal, they find it unwise to purchase them repeatedly. Thus, they follow your example and learn to draw the seals themselves. Although the cost is not negligible, the limited variety makes it manageable. Therefore, if you truly wish to cultivate the Calming Spirit Technique, it would be most beneficial in the long run to create your own seals. However, if you do not use this technique often, it would be more practical to simply invest a small amount of money and buy a few Calming Spirit Seals as backups." The young monk explained in detail, then offered a few suggestions to Han Li. "Thank you so much for your guidance, Master Kusang!" Han Li bowed sincerely. "Please accept my thanks, Master!" the monk promptly returned the bow. "This young monk is quite approachable. Should you have any further questions or difficulties in the future, you might as well continue to consult him." While walking back to his room, Han Li silently thought: "It's now impossible to focus solely on practicing seal-making. Instead, he should find time in the future to purchase a few Calming Seals as backups. His Chongchuan Technique has already reached the peak of the eighth level. With the new techniques he has recently acquired, it seems he is now at the point of breaking through his current limitations and advancing into the ninth level. Additionally, he needs to practice several new spells thoroughly, so as to master them early and thereby strengthen his overall power." At the very moment he pushed open the door to his room, Han Li had already planned out his future schedule. From then on, during the day, he would take large quantities of medicine and sit in meditation, refining his Chongchuan Technique. In the evenings, he would head to quiet spots within the valley to practice the new spells he had learned—namely, "Sand Flow Technique," "Freeze Technique," "Ascension Technique," "Wrapping Technique," "Voice Transmission Technique," "Invisibility Technique," "Spark Technique," and the most difficult of all, the "Ground Spikes Technique." After more than ten days of rigorous cultivation, Han Li finally reached the ninth level of Changchun Technique just a few days before the conclusion of the Taishan Conference, leaving Wu Ji-zhi and others utterly astonished, with Qingwen the Daoist repeatedly praising Han Li as a rare talent among independent cultivators. Yet Han Li himself was well aware that without the consumption of those ten or so pill bottles, he would not have achieved this breakthrough so easily. Nevertheless, he did notice that the pills on his person were growing scarce, and it seemed likely that he would soon be able to prepare more.