Haotian stepped from the great hall into the dimming courtyard, the echo of the Sect Master's words still resonating in his chest. Lantern light shimmered over the stone path ahead, guiding him toward the eastern wing where the alchemy halls stood.
The air there was warmer, tinged with the rich scent of dried herbs and faint mineral dust. As he approached the carved redwood doors of the main alchemy hall, a figure in deep amber robes awaited him—an elder whose posture was straight despite his age, his expression shrewd yet faintly amused.
"Haotian," the man greeted, voice like warm iron—firm, but not unkind. "I am Elder Ren, custodian of the sect's alchemy wing. The Sect Master has spoken to me of your… unorthodox request."
Haotian bowed. "It is an honor to meet you, Elder Ren."
With a faint hum, Elder Ren turned, beckoning him forward. "Come. The secondary archives are not vast, but they hold enough to separate the dreamers from the craftsmen. If you are serious, these shelves will teach you. If you are not…" His eyes glimmered in the lamplight. "…they will swallow you whole."
They passed rows of bronze-lidded cauldrons and long tables scattered with grinding stones, pestles, and bundles of herbs wrapped in twine. The faint hiss of simmering brews lingered in the background, accompanied by the whisper of pages turning from distant study alcoves.
At the end of a narrow corridor, Elder Ren pushed open a heavy lacquered door. Within lay the Secondary Archives—tiered shelves rising nearly to the ceiling, each stacked with scrolls, bound manuscripts, and wooden cases marked with faded seals. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment and medicinal powder.
"This is your starting ground," Elder Ren said, gesturing to the room. "Respect the texts, record what you learn, and return everything in order. You may come each morning after sunrise." His tone sharpened just enough to carry weight. "The Sect Master believes you may one day craft something worth remembering. I hope you intend to prove him right."
Haotian inclined his head. "I will, Elder."
And this time, he had a plan.
Every morning, as the first light spilled across the mountains, he would come to these archives. The early hours would be for study—absorbing the fundamentals of alchemy, refining pill formulas, and noting the intricacies of medicinal resonance.
At midday, he would set the scrolls aside and meet with Lianhua, who often awaited him near the sect's lotus bridge. After sharing a simple meal or brief conversation, the afternoons would rotate between alchemy refining, formation arrays, and rune crafting—building each skill in turn until all three began to weave together naturally.
Evenings were for dinner with Lianhua and the small team they often trained alongside. Conversation flowed easily, laughter breaking through the day's discipline. And when the last meal was done, Haotian returned to his cultivation chambers, where he would sit through the long hours of the night, cycling his qi beneath the quiet hum of the sect's wards.
The routine became the rhythm of his days, steady and unyielding.
And Lianhua—far from being angered by his new focus—seemed to only grow closer to him. Their bond deepened in the quiet spaces between obligations: a walk along the moonlit garden paths with their hands loosely entwined, shared pauses beneath the plum blossoms, or simply sitting side by side on the outer balcony as they watched the constellations rise.
Some nights, when the training fields were still and the world below seemed asleep, they would lean together, Lianhua's head resting lightly against his shoulder, speaking little and letting the stars say what words could not.
In time, their closeness became known even beyond the alchemy wing. Passing disciples whispered with envy, some admiring, others curious. But Haotian paid them no mind.
For him, it was simple—he was building his path, and she had chosen to walk it beside him.
The weeks passed in a steady rhythm—morning study, afternoon craft, evening cultivation—until one crisp dawn, Elder Ren's voice broke the stillness of the archive.
"Haotian," he said from the doorway, his amber robes casting long shadows between the shelves. "You've been haunting these archives for half a month. I'd like to see whether you've been learning… or simply reading."
Haotian looked up from a spread of rune-inscribed diagrams, his expression calm. "Very well, Elder. I've prepared something."
The alchemy wing's main hall was alive with the soft clink of tools and the muted hiss of heating cauldrons. Haotian stepped to the center table, setting down a jade box bound with three thin sealing talismans. With deliberate care, he lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled on a bed of soft spirit cotton, were six smooth, lustrous pills, each faintly aglow with a gentle green light. Intricate silver runes spiraled across their surfaces, as though etched by the hand of a patient artisan. The scent that rose from them was both crisp and invigorating—like the moment after a fresh rain when the earth breathes anew.
Elder Ren's brows drew together. "And these are?"
"A dual-effect healing pill," Haotian said simply. "Immediate recovery of physical injuries and accelerated restoration of spiritual energy." His tone shifted subtly, like a craftsman revealing the heart of his work. "The runes are not decoration—they're integrated resonance arrays. They harmonize the pill's medicinal essence with the user's meridians, increasing overall effectiveness by sixty percent."
"Sixty—?" Elder Ren stopped mid-breath. He picked one pill up between two fingers, holding it to the light. The silver runes shimmered faintly, pulsing in sync with his qi. He could feel the layered intent within—alchemy, rune work, and formation precision fused into a single creation.
He set it down slowly. "Such a pill would change the sect's combat capacity. Wounded disciples could return to the field in half the usual time, with their spiritual reserves intact." His eyes narrowed in astonished calculation. "And this… you made in your first month of focused study?"
"Yes," Haotian said without hesitation. "But it's only the first step."
Elder Ren gave a low, disbelieving laugh. "The first step, is it? Then what's the second?"
Haotian's gaze was steady. "A pill that works with spirit crystals—not merely to absorb their energy faster, but to deepen and extend the effects they provide. A cultivator could double the gains from each crystal, and the pill's structure will allow repeated use without clogging the meridians or destabilizing the foundation."
The elder went very still. In the alchemy hall's quiet, the crackle of a nearby furnace seemed suddenly loud. "If you can make such a thing work…" Elder Ren's voice was low now, heavy with the weight of possibilities. "…the Burning Sun Sect's training cycles would change forever. And every sect in the region would kill to have the formula."
Haotian inclined his head. "Then I'll simply make it for us first."
Elder Ren studied him for a long moment, something between caution and admiration flickering behind his eyes. "Very well, boy. You have my full attention now. Show me you can do it—and I'll make sure the Sect Master himself sees the results."
Haotian closed the jade box with quiet finality. "Then we should begin."
The next morning, the alchemy wing was still cloaked in pre-dawn shadow when Haotian arrived. Only the faint, ember-like glow of the furnace stones lit the chamber, throwing long, wavering shadows across the polished floor. Elder Ren was already there, arms crossed, leaning against a counter piled with sealed jars of powdered herbs.
"You're early," the elder noted.
"So is the work," Haotian replied, stepping forward with a plain wooden case in his arms.
Inside were carefully prepared ingredients—some from the sect's stores, others gathered during his own excursions: stalks of moonvine grass, crystalized dew lotus petals, and thin flakes shaved from a dormant spirit crystal core. Each piece carried a faint hum, the resonance of energy waiting to be unlocked.
Elder Ren's brow twitched. "You're really going to use actual crystal dust in the pill body? Most pill refiners avoid it—the energy doesn't bind well with medicinal essences."
Haotian began arranging the materials in a neat, deliberate sequence. "Most use the wrong binding method. The key isn't to force the crystal essence into the pill—it's to weave the pill's core structure around it, like a shell forming around a pearl."
He set the cauldron over a low flame, the faint whuff of ignited qi-fire filling the hall. The air quickly filled with a mingling of scents—sharp mineral tang from the crystal dust, floral sweetness from the dew lotus, and a deep, earthy undertone from the moonvine.
Elder Ren said nothing, only watching as Haotian worked. His movements were fluid and sure, the result of weeks of refining not just techniques but the rhythm of his craft. He rotated between grinding herbs, adjusting flame intensity, and inscribing small rune slips in long, graceful strokes.
When the mixture began to thicken, Haotian flicked his fingers, and the rune slips ignited one by one—curling into threads of golden light that sank into the cauldron's contents.
The liquid shimmered. The crystal dust, instead of clumping or dispersing, aligned itself into delicate lattice patterns throughout the mixture, each one pulsing faintly with restrained energy.
"That," Elder Ren murmured, leaning slightly closer, "isn't a formation array I recognize."
"It's new," Haotian said without looking up. "A resonance net. It harmonizes the pill's medicinal qi with the crystal essence, so the user's meridians don't reject it. The result will let the cultivator draw twice as much benefit from spirit crystals without risking energy congestion."
As the mixture reached its peak, Haotian shaped it into uniform spheres with precise, almost surgical control over the cauldron's qi currents. Each pill emerged with a faint inner glow—a pale blue light like the heart of a frozen star—veined with tiny silver runes.
He lifted the lid, and the scent that spilled out was sharp and invigorating, as if the very air was charged with energy.
Elder Ren's expression tightened, the kind of rare restraint that comes when astonishment is too great to voice immediately. "If this works as you claim…" He exhaled slowly. "…the sect's cultivation speed will double for any disciple with access to spirit crystals."
Haotian sealed the pills in a jade container, pressing the last rune into the lid. "It will work," he said simply. "But I'll test it myself before giving it to anyone else."
Elder Ren's gaze lingered on him. "You're not using spirit crystals yet, are you?"
"No," Haotian admitted. "I've chosen to advance steadily for now. But when I begin…" His fingers brushed the sealed container. "…these will be ready."
For a moment, the elder said nothing, then finally gave a small, approving nod. "Caution is good. But Haotian—when you choose to push forward, the results will not go unnoticed."
The alchemy hall was empty save for the steady glow of the furnace stones when Elder Ren shut the doors and sealed the room with a formation lock. "No one interrupts," he said, his voice low but tinged with anticipation.
Haotian stepped to the center of the chamber and set a small cloth pouch on the table. From it, he drew a spirit crystal the size of a clenched fist, its translucent surface veined with faint streams of light. The energy inside pulsed softly, like a sleeping heart.
Without another word, he took one of the pale-blue pills from the jade container and swallowed it dry. A cool wave surged through his meridians, sharp yet clean, as though his body had been tuned like an instrument. He then set the spirit crystal in his palm and sat cross-legged, the Heaven-Sundered Trinity Scripture beginning to flow silently through his veins.
The crystal's light flared instantly. Its essence poured into him like a river bursting through a dam—and in the span of only a few breaths, the once-glimmering core dulled to a lifeless lump of stone.
Haotian opened his eyes in faint surprise. That was… fast.
He took another crystal. Again, within minutes, its energy was gone—drawn completely into his cultivation channels without a trace of resistance. Elder Ren's eyes widened. "Impossible… one crystal should last a disciple an entire day of cultivation. And you've—"
"—burned through two in minutes," Haotian finished for him, frowning in thought.
He didn't hesitate. Reaching into his pouch, he poured out his entire stock of spirit crystals—gleaming trophies taken from the Bloodshade Moon Sect disciples and the elder he had slain. They clattered across the table in a heap, their glow bathing the room in shifting, pale light.
He placed his hands over them. The Trinity Scripture's circulation roared silently within him. The pill's runic resonance flared like a second heartbeat.
Light blazed. Essence surged.
BOOM—!
The first shockwave burst outward, rattling the shelves. Elder Ren staggered, slamming into the wall behind him.
BOOM—!
The second wave followed, stronger than the first, scattering loose papers and sending a cauldron crashing to the floor.
BOOM—!
The third shockwave roared through the chamber like a thunderclap, slamming Elder Ren back again, hard enough to make his teeth clench. A thin line of blood traced the corner of his mouth.
When the air finally settled, Haotian sat in stillness, eyes closed… then opened them with a faint gleam. "Peak Core Transformation Realm," he murmured. "I was at the initial stage when I began."
Elder Ren stared at him, dumbfounded. "Three minor realms… in one go?" His gaze darted to the spent, lifeless shards of crystal littering the floor. "Is the pill truly that… effective?"
Haotian looked at the shards, then back to the elder. "I don't know. It might be me. We need to test it on someone else."
Elder Ren was already moving. Within minutes, he returned with a young disciple from the alchemy hall—a thin, nervous youth clutching his robes. "He's at the peak of Foundation Establishment. Ready for Core Condensation."
Haotian handed the boy one of the pale-blue pills. "Swallow it. Hold a crystal. Begin cultivating as you normally would."
The disciple obeyed, sitting cross-legged with the crystal in his lap. Minutes passed. The crystal's glow began to fade—much faster than usual.
Then, after only an hour, a deafening BOOM echoed through the chamber. A single, powerful shockwave rippled outward, shivering the formation lock on the door. The boy's qi flared with newfound depth and strength.
"Core Condensation Realm," Elder Ren whispered. "He broke through the major realm… in a single session."
Haotian allowed himself a faint smile. "Then it isn't just me."
Elder Ren's stunned silence broke into a deep, rumbling laugh, one that echoed through the alchemy hall. "It works! Hah—it works! Haotian, you've just given the Burning Sun Sect a weapon greater than any sword. With this… the sect will begin a new age!"
By the time the sun had dipped low behind the mountains, the Sect Master's private audience chamber was lit entirely by the amber glow of spirit lamps. The carved pillars cast long shadows over the stone floor, and the faint scent of sandalwood curled through the air like smoke in a battlefield breeze.
Elder Ren entered without ceremony, his usually composed steps carrying an urgency that made the guards straighten. In his arms was a sealed jade box, bound in three layers of formation seals.
The Sect Master, seated upon the high platform, regarded him with calm, silver-flecked eyes. "Elder Ren. You rarely bring me matters in person."
Ren dropped to one knee, placing the jade box on the low table between them. "Sect Master… I've seen something today that will change the Burning Sun Sect's future."
At a nod, one of the attendants stepped forward and undid the seals. The faint, pale-blue glow from within spilled into the chamber. The Sect Master leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "A pill?"
"Yes," Ren said, his voice low. "But not just any pill. Created by Haotian. It accelerates cultivation with spirit crystals—doubling absorption efficiency and compressing advancement time. The test results…" He paused, as though still processing them himself. "…are beyond belief."
The Sect Master's expression remained unreadable. "Explain."
Ren's eyes flickered. "Haotian tested it on himself. He consumed his entire stock of crystals in minutes, advancing from initial to peak Core Transformation Realm in one sitting. That alone I could have blamed on his unusual constitution… but then we tested it on a disciple. The boy broke through to Core Condensation Realm—an entire major realm—in one hour."
A moment of stillness hung in the room. The Sect Master's fingers tapped once against the armrest. "And you're certain this was not aided by any other means?"
"I watched the process with my own eyes," Ren replied. "No external support. Only the pill and a single crystal."
A faint hum left the Sect Master's throat. "Then this… is a double-edged sword."
Ren frowned. "How so?"
"Because," the Sect Master said slowly, "if this formula spreads beyond our walls, every sect in the region will fight to own it. The Bloodshade Moon Sect would kill for it. The Silver Horizon Alliance would wage war for it. The imperial clans would send assassins before the first batch is even finished. And here… within our own sect…" His gaze shifted toward the curtained side chamber where several elders waited in silence. "…ambition will sharpen. Some will see a path to power. Others will see a threat to their control."
Ren straightened. "What would you have me do?"
The Sect Master's eyes locked on the jade box. "First—seal the formula. No copies. No written records outside your own hands. Second—assign Haotian personal protection. Quietly. If word of this reaches the outer elders or our rivals before we are ready, it will not be a battle of swords but a war of shadows."
Ren inclined his head, but his brow creased. "And when we are ready?"
A thin smile touched the Sect Master's lips. "Then we will decide how much of this weapon to reveal… and how much to keep hidden."
From behind the curtain, a soft murmur rose among the elders who had been listening—tones of both awe and unease. The political ripples had already begun.
Elder Ren gathered the jade box into his arms once more, his mind already turning over which formations would keep it safe.
And in the quiet, the Sect Master's gaze lingered on the sealed pill. Haotian… you've just shifted the balance of this continent without even knowing it.
The sect was quiet by the time Haotian left the alchemy wing, its stone paths silvered under the glow of the rising moon. The night air was cool, touched by the faint perfume of night-blooming orchids along the courtyard walls.
He found Lianhua waiting for him at their usual spot—beneath the old plum tree by the lotus bridge, where the lantern light reflected off the water in rippling gold. She stood with her hands folded before her, but her eyes lifted the moment he approached, warm yet searching.
"You're late," she said softly, though there was no reproach in her tone—only a quiet curiosity. "And… you feel different tonight."
Haotian stopped a few paces away, meeting her gaze. "Different?"
She nodded, stepping closer. "You've been at the center of something today. I can feel it—like the air around you is carrying more weight than before. Did something happen in the alchemy hall?"
For a moment, he considered telling her everything—the trial, Elder Ren's shock, the Sect Master's caution—but instead, he reached into his sleeve and drew out a single, faintly glowing pill. Its pale-blue light shimmered against the night, and the delicate silver runes along its surface pulsed like a quiet heartbeat.
"This," he said simply, placing it in her hand, "is something I made today. I call it the Crystal Vein Pill. It'll help you cultivate with spirit crystals more efficiently. I want you to try it."
Her brows lifted slightly, surprise mingling with curiosity. "For me?"
"For you," he confirmed.
They sat together by the edge of the bridge. Lianhua settled into a cross-legged posture, the pill resting in her palm. She swallowed it without hesitation, then took out a spirit crystal from her pouch, holding it gently between her fingers as she closed her eyes.
Haotian remained by her side, silent, his gaze fixed on her as her breathing slowed and the faint light of the crystal began to intensify. He could feel the resonance—his pill's runic network weaving itself seamlessly into her meridians, guiding and amplifying the flow of energy.
Minutes passed. The lotus pond lay still, moonlight spilling across its surface. Then—
BOOM
A shockwave rolled outward from Lianhua, sending the nearest blossoms trembling. Her aura surged, bright and sharp, and when she opened her eyes, they gleamed with new vitality.
"Initial Core Condensation Realm…" she whispered, awe and joy mingling in her voice.
She jumped to her feet, unable to contain herself, and threw her arms around him in a sudden, fierce embrace. "Haotian, I… I did it!"
He smiled faintly, one hand resting at her back, the other brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "I know. I felt it."
She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her own still alight with triumph. For a heartbeat, neither spoke—until the moment drew them together again, her lips finding his in a kiss that was soft at first, then lingering, the cool night air contrasting with the warmth between them.
Above them, the moon hung bright and full, casting its silver glow over the lotus bridge. In that stillness, the world beyond the pond seemed far away—its politics, its dangers, its battles—leaving only the quiet certainty that they were here, together.
The following morning, the Burning Sun Sect was alive with whispers. In the training fields, in the dining halls, even among the patrols on the outer walls—word had spread that Lianhua, one of the sect's promising disciples, had broken through to the Core Condensation Realm overnight.
No one knew how.
Some said she had stumbled upon a rare treasure during a night cultivation session. Others claimed she had been secretly training with one of the high elders. A few dared to whisper that Haotian's constant presence in her life might have something to do with it—but those rumors faded under the weight of uncertainty.
The truth, however, never reached the ears of the sect's gossip-hungry masses.
Elder Ren had been thorough. The moment the test results from both Lianhua and the earlier disciple were confirmed, he had sealed the matter tighter than the sect vaults. The young alchemy hall disciple had been brought before the Heaven Oath Altar, swearing upon his cultivation and life not to reveal a word of the Crystal Vein Pill's existence. Elder Ren had spoken with Haotian directly, his tone carrying an edge of steel.
"This is a blade sharper than any sword," he had warned. "If unsheathed carelessly, it will cut us as deeply as it cuts our enemies."
Haotian had understood immediately. From that day forward, every creation of his remained a secret. No one outside their small circle knew.
Still, secrecy didn't mean scarcity. Lianhua continued to receive her share of Crystal Vein Pills, her cultivation speed accelerating to a level that would have been unthinkable months ago. The guards closest to Haotian—those who had earned his trust—were given doses as well, their strength quietly climbing with each passing week.
Nor did he forget Yuying and Xiaoque. The two Moonfang Tigers, his steadfast companions, were given specially tailored pills—not for rapid cultivation, but for evolution. These were more complex than the Crystal Vein Pills, crafted with rare beast essences and stabilizing runes to guide their transformation without harming their cores.
Weeks turned into a month. Lianhua and the chosen few reached peak Core Condensation Realm, their auras sharp as honed blades. The guards walked with more confidence, their qi denser, their presence more commanding.
But Yuying and Xiaoque… began to change.
At first, it was subtle. They slept longer after training. Their once boundless energy waned, and their appetites shifted to heavier, richer spiritual meats. Soon, their movements grew slower, their golden eyes carrying a distant, almost meditative focus.
Haotian noticed immediately. He began tracking their qi flow during rest, noting the fluctuations in their core pulses. The patterns were irregular, but not unhealthy. Something inside them was stirring.
And then, one evening, as the sun dipped behind the sect's high walls, the answer came to him in a single, undeniable realization.
"They're not sick," he murmured to himself, kneeling beside Yuying as her breathing deepened into a steady, resonant rhythm. Xiaoque mirrored her, curled close by.
"They're preparing to evolve."
A faint thrill stirred in his chest. If the Crystal Vein Pills had propelled his human allies to new heights… the evolution of the Moonfang Tigers could tilt the balance of power even further in their favor.
But evolution was as dangerous as it was powerful—and there would be no room for mistakes.