Steam still lingered faintly in the air as Lin Xuan stepped out of the bathing area.
Warmth clung to his skin, easing some of the stiffness that had settled into his body over the past few days. The aches had not vanished—his meridians were still damaged, his foundation unstable—but the constant sense of brittleness had dulled. He felt… serviceable.
That was enough.
He reached for the clothes prepared earlier and dressed himself without hurry. The robes were simple, light-colored, meant for daily wear rather than formal appearances. No embroidery. No clan insignia. Just clean fabric and a comfortable fit.
When he finished, he adjusted the cuffs once and exhaled slowly.
Only then did he turn his attention inward.
He had ignored it earlier—dismissed it without a second thought amid the noise of the trading hall and the presence of others—but now, alone in his room, the sensation returned.
A quiet pull at the edge of his awareness.
Lin Xuan leaned back slightly against the table and summoned the interface.
The translucent system panel unfolded before him, lines of text forming neatly, without excess flourish.
[Milestone System: Alchemy — Activated]
His eyes moved calmly as he read.
So this is what it was.
Low Grade Vitality Pills
Milestone: Sell 50 Low Grade Vitality Pills
Reward: 2 System Coins
Limit: Can be completed twice per pill type
Progress: 8 / 50
Lin Xuan absorbed the information in silence.
Low reward. Tight cap.
He didn't need to think long to understand the intent.
"This prevents mass farming," he murmured softly.
Even if someone churned out hundreds of low-grade pills, the return would be capped. There was no incentive to stagnate at the lowest tier.
His gaze shifted downward.
Maximum Gain:100 pills → 4 System Coins
He nodded faintly.
Clean. Controlled.
Medium Grade Vitality Pills
Milestone: Sell 40 Medium Grade Vitality Pills
Reward: 4 System Coins
Limit: Can be completed twice
Progress: 12 / 40
This one made him pause a little longer.
Medium grade pills were the backbone of real alchemical trade—consumed by foundation cultivators, mercenaries, and those who needed results rather than convenience.
Maximum Gain:80 pills → 8 System Coins
"Reasonable," Lin Xuan concluded.
Not easy to produce in bulk. Not impossible either. A tier meant to reward skill, not brute repetition.
High Grade Vitality Pills
Milestone: Sell 20 High Grade Vitality Pills
Reward: 6 System Coins
Limit: Once only (per pill type)
Progress: 2 / 20
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Once only.
That alone carried weight.
High grade pills were not commodities. They were statements—of mastery, of precision, of risk. Limiting the reward to a single completion made sense. Anything else would cheapen their value.
Lin Xuan leaned back fully now, folding his arms.
He had sold eight low grade pills, twelve medium grade pills, and two high grade pills today.
Every single one counted.
The system had already acknowledged his actions.
He let out a slow breath, something close to satisfaction settling in his chest.
This… is good.
Better than he expected.
The structure was tight, but fair. Restrictive, but not suffocating.
Most importantly—it encouraged growth.
Lin Xuan's thoughts shifted naturally to his alchemical foundation.
Alchemy Basics.
A skill that, on paper, sounded laughably shallow.
In reality, it wasn't.
The system hadn't just taught him recipes. It had laid down theory—principles of refinement, impurity separation, heat control, medicinal balance. With that foundation alone, he understood the structure of pills far beyond his current practical limits.
Up to Stage Four.
That knowledge gave him options.
"If I wanted to…" Lin Xuan mused quietly, "I could deliberately lower pill quality."
The thought wasn't born of deceit, but efficiency.
The difference between low, medium, and high grade often came down to refinement precision, timing, and subtle control. With his understanding, he could intentionally stop short—producing stable, sellable pills without pushing into higher grades.
That meant controlled milestone completion.
No waste.
No risk.
And with each pill type limited to two completions, he wouldn't be able to rely on a single recipe forever.
Which was fine.
Better, even.
"It forces expansion," he concluded. "New formulas. New materials."
For now, while his body remained damaged, this was an ideal system.
A temporary engine.
A bridge.
His thoughts drifted to the materials he had purchased earlier.
Ten batches of Basic Vitality Pill ingredients.
He willed the system inventory open.
The space responded instantly.
Neatly arranged bundles of herbs, mineral powders, and auxiliary ingredients floated in suspended order. Each batch was preserved perfectly—no wilting leaves, no degradation of potency.
Lin Xuan studied them with mild appreciation.
"No decay," he noted. "And no limit."
The System Inventory truly was a cheat.
Infinite storage.
Instant access.
No need for storage rings—artifacts that were expensive, traceable, and often limited in capacity.
There were restrictions, of course.
He couldn't store living beings.
No corpses.
No grey areas.
But for materials?
It was perfect.
He closed the inventory with a thought.
"Thirty medium grade pills," he calculated calmly. "From ten batches."
That would push his medium-grade progress far enough to complete the milestone once.
Four more System Coins.
That would bring his total to nine.
Not bad.
Not bad at all.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Young Master," his attendant's voice came gently from outside. "Lunch has been prepared. And… the lady you brought has been taken care of."
Lin Xuan straightened.
"Come in," he replied.
The door opened, and the attendant entered with practiced steps. She bowed lightly.
"Thank you," Lin Xuan said, his tone even. "Please arrange lunch here. And bring her as well."
The attendant hesitated for half a breath, then nodded. "As you wish."
She turned to leave, but Lin Xuan added, "Prepare a full meal for her too."
"Yes, Young Master."
The door closed again.
Lin Xuan waited.
When Shen Yao entered the room, the difference was immediate.
Gone was the dirt-caked beggar wrapped in tattered cloth.
She wore clean, simple robes—plain fabric, well-fitted, unadorned. Her hair had been washed and loosely tied, strands falling naturally along her cheeks.
She stopped just inside the doorway.
Lin Xuan looked up—and paused.
It was brief. Involuntary.
Without grime to hide her features, her beauty revealed itself fully—and it was striking.
Her hair, freshly washed, fell in dark, silky strands down her back, carrying a faint sheen even in the muted light of the room. Stray locks framed her face naturally, softening sharp lines that hardship had carved too early. Her eyes were a clear, vivid blue—too bright, too alive for someone who had spent years scraping by on the streets. They carried caution now, but beneath it lay intelligence and an unyielding will that had refused to be extinguished.
Her facial structure was delicate yet defined: a straight nose, gently curved lips, and high cheekbones that gave her an almost ethereal balance. There was no artificial charm to her looks—no practiced allure. It was the kind of beauty that didn't ask for attention, yet inevitably drew it.
Her physique told a harsher story.
Slender to the point of fragility, her frame bore the unmistakable signs of malnourishment. Narrow shoulders, thin wrists, and a body that lacked strength—not by nature, but by deprivation. And yet, even in that state, her proportions hinted at something extraordinary. With proper nutrition, with care, her beauty would mature into something overwhelming.
Enough to turn heads.
Enough to invite obsession.
Enough to topple kingdoms.
Lin Xuan felt a flicker of something rare—quiet satisfaction.
Not desire. Not greed.
Fortune.
To encounter someone like her—bearing such potential—by chance, at the edge of a forgotten alley, was no small thing.
Especially now.
Especially when he was still weak.
He masked his reaction instantly, expression returning to calm neutrality.
Shen Yao, meanwhile, looked like she might bolt.
Her hands hovered at her sides, fingers clenched into the fabric of her sleeves. Her eyes darted briefly around the room before settling back on him, wary and uncertain.
"Sit," Lin Xuan said, gesturing toward the table.
She hesitated.
Then, slowly, she obeyed.
The attendant returned shortly after, placing dishes on the table with efficient precision. Meat. Vegetables. Soup. Rice. The kind of balanced meal Shen Yao had not seen in years—if ever.
When everything was set, the attendant bowed again and withdrew quietly.
The door closed.
Silence settled.
Lin Xuan picked up his chopsticks and began eating.
Unhurried. Controlled.
Shen Yao didn't move.
She stared at the food as though it might disappear if she touched it.
Lin Xuan noticed.
"Eat," he said simply. "It's for you."
She swallowed. "I… I don't want to waste—"
"Then don't stare," he interrupted calmly. "Eat."
The firmness in his voice left no room for argument.
Shen Yao hesitated one last time.
Then she picked up her chopsticks.
The first bite changed everything.
Her eyes widened.
The flavor hit her like a wave—rich, warm, real. Meat cooked properly. Seasoned vegetables. Food that wasn't scavenged or half-spoiled.
Hunger surged.
Restraint shattered.
She ate.
Quickly at first. Then faster.
The quiet etiquette she might once have known dissolved under the sheer relief of nourishment. She leaned forward, taking mouthfuls without pause, chewing hastily, reaching for more.
Lin Xuan watched her with faint amusement.
Unruly.
Honest.
Alive.
He continued eating at his own pace, letting her have her fill.
For Shen Yao, the world narrowed to the table. To warmth. To fullness. To a sensation she had forgotten existed.
Halfway through the meal, she spoke—mouth still half-full.
"Wh… what do I do?" she asked, words muffled.
Lin Xuan glanced at her.
"For now?" he replied evenly. "Finish your lunch."
She blinked, then nodded, returning her attention to the food with renewed determination.
Lin Xuan turned his gaze inward again, thoughts drifting back to alchemy schedules, system coins, and the quiet expansion of his personal sphere.
Today had ended earlier than expected.
That was fine.
Some gains didn't need to be rushed.
Across the table, Shen Yao ate as if afraid the moment might vanish.
And for the first time in a long while—
She felt safe enough to believe it wouldn't.