Journey to the West: A clone sacrifices to the heavens, possessing boundless magical power.

Contrary to the rumors of a blessed land for immortals, the medicine garden was in a state of disarray. Although the tremors of the earth veins were suppressed by the great formation, the rising earth energy caused the soil in the spirit field to churn like boiling water.

Numerous spiritual herbs, nurtured by the excess earth energy, grew intertwined branches and leaves, and sprawling roots. Many accompanying demonic insects also took the opportunity to hatch and devour the medicinal roots.

"The final test." Xuanfeng Daoist pointed to the spirit fields divided into dozens of plots ahead, his voice cold: "Each person has one plot of spirit field, with a time limit of half an hour. You need to do two things: First, identify the medicinal properties and remove any withered plants whose medicinal properties have been disrupted by the earth's energy; second, find the companion spirit insects hidden in the branches, leaves, roots, and stems, and kill them without harming the spirit herbs."

"Remember, the medicinal herbs here are all affected by the earth's energy and are extremely fragile. They will burst or wither if they are stimulated by the slightest external force. Any plant with more than three damaged will be eliminated."

As soon as the words were spoken, the expressions of the rogue cultivators changed drastically. Normally, the best way to examine spiritual herbs was to slowly probe them with gentle wood-type spiritual power, which was time-consuming and laborious.

The earth's energy is currently turbulent, and the internal energy of the spiritual herbs is chaotic. Once external spiritual energy penetrates, it can easily cause conflict and lead to the plants exploding.

Not to mention those spirit insects, most of which are only the size of a grain of rice and are good at disguising their aura, hiding deep in the veins of leaves or roots. They cannot be detected at all without forcibly scanning with divine sense, but forcibly scanning will damage the spiritual essence of the spirit medicine.

"Begin!" Xuanfeng Daoist lit a stick of incense, stood with his hands behind his back, and surveyed the entire audience.

The scattered cultivators suppressed their restlessness and dared not be negligent. They rushed towards their respective assigned spirit fields. Shen Feng stood in front of the spirit field marked with the number C7, but did not rush to make a move.

In the field before him grew a low-level spiritual herb called Crimson Pearl Grass. This herb had many leaves, layered upon each other, and the leaves were extremely thin, curling and withering at the slightest touch.

At this moment, under the impact of the violent earth energy, the leaves of these Crimson Pearl Grasses have turned a dark purple color, and some have even begun to rot and turn into water.

A rogue cultivator nearby couldn't wait to make his move. He was clearly practicing a wood-element technique, and a ball of green spiritual light shone from his fingertips as he carefully attached a spiritual herb to it.

"puff!"

With a soft sound, the spiritual herb exploded into a mess, as if a powder keg had been lit, splattering juice everywhere.

"This...this earth energy is too strong! The wood elemental power can't be sent in at all!" the rogue cultivator exclaimed, sweating profusely.

Shen Feng withdrew his gaze, already understanding that the turbid energy gushing from the earth's veins and the pure energy of the spiritual herbs themselves were fiercely clashing. Any external intervention of the five elements' spiritual power would break this fragile balance.

Unless one possesses precise control over spiritual power, one must find another way. Shen Feng does not have a wood spiritual root; what flows within him is the true meaning of Samadhi Divine Wind.

"Wind is the energy of heaven and earth; it penetrates everywhere and is formless and without appearance."

Shen Feng slightly closed his eyes, drawing upon an extremely faint wisp of divine thought, which was carried by the surrounding air currents.

He flicked his finger lightly, and a barely perceptible wisp of air flew out like a wisp of silk, gently brushing against the leaves of the Crimson Pearl Grass in front of him.

The wind rustling the leaves appeared to the cultivators nearby as nothing more than a natural scene of a gentle breeze rustling through the grass and trees. But to Shen Feng, it was a feedback of countless pieces of information.

The airflow passes through healthy leaves with minimal resistance, producing a crisp and pleasant vibration from the veins. As it passes over withered, dead leaves, the air feels dry and stiff, producing a dull, hoarse sound. And when the airflow encounters a hidden insect…

Shen Feng raised an eyebrow slightly. On the back of the third layer of blades, an extremely tiny vortex appeared in the airflow, indicating that the physical object was blocking the flow of the wind.

Moreover, a slight noise appeared in the vibration frequency of the leaf veins there. This was the subtle sound made by the spirit insects as they ate the leaf flesh, which was amplified infinitely by the wind and entered his ears.

"Found it." Shen Feng pointed his right index finger in the air.

"laugh!"

A sharp, needle-like wind blade instantly formed, piercing through the gaps between the layers of blades and penetrating the center of the airflow vortex.

A completely transparent, pinhead-sized ant was picked out by the wind blade and shredded into powder in mid-air.

The delicate leaves of the Crimson Pearl Grass trembled slightly, without leaving even a scratch.

The wind blade, still carrying momentum, severed two withered and necrotic leaves at the base, rolling them out of the spirit field.

The first plant is complete, taking ten breaths.

Shen Feng was certain that this method was feasible and far more efficient than that of ordinary people. Without further hesitation, he flicked his fingers and moved his body slightly between the spirit fields.

He did not directly touch any of the spiritual herbs, but simply moved his fingers in the air. With his movements, wisps of breeze shuttled back and forth in the spiritual field.

Those deeply hidden insects, whether they are leaf-mimicking moths or burrowing into roots, have nowhere to hide from the all-pervasive wind.

Shen Feng's speed increased, ten plants... twenty plants... In the spirit field No. 7 where he was located, the originally messy Crimson Pearl Grass was becoming neat and tidy at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Withered leaves gone and pests eliminated, only the vibrant main stem swaying gently in the wind remained. In contrast, most of the other rogue cultivators around were still sweating profusely as they struggled with the first spiritual herb, some even having already destroyed two and were on the verge of collapse.

This stark contrast quickly caught the attention of Xuanfeng Daoist. Xuanfeng had initially just glanced at them casually, since recruiting rogue cultivators was merely to serve as laborers, and he didn't have high hopes for their aptitude.

But when his gaze fell on Shen Feng, his pupils contracted slightly. "This is..."

Xuanfeng was an outer elder of Wuzhuang Temple, and his vision was naturally extraordinary. He could tell at a glance that this person had not used his divine sense to forcibly probe into the spiritual herb.

This person uses only the wind. "Using the wind to explore objects and discern shapes by sound?" Xuanfeng was secretly surprised.

Although Wuzhuang Temple is famous for Zhenyuan Daxian's "Universe in the Sleeve," the supernatural power of that "Universe in the Sleeve" is, in essence, not only the way of space, but also the way of wind.

Many of the profound spells in the temple are related to wind, clouds, and air. Therefore, Wuzhuang Temple has always valued disciples with wind-related talents.

"This boy's control over the wind has reached a level close to the subtle realm." Xuanfeng nodded to himself. "Although he is a rogue cultivator, his wind control technique is more exquisite than that of many outer disciples. What is rare is that he knows how to go with the flow and not to confront the earth's energy head-on. This comprehension is even more precious than his talent."

Just after the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Shen Feng stopped what he was doing, slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, and concealed his aura.

The acre of spiritual field in front of him had been cleared, and all the Crimson Pearl Grasses had stretched out their branches and leaves, showing no signs of illness. In fact, because the wind had smoothed out their veins, they faintly revealed an even purer vitality.

At this time, most of the independent cultivators had not even completed half of the task. Shen Feng did not make a fuss. He simply stood quietly on the edge of the field, with his hands at his sides, waiting for the assessment to end.