A Fortunate Ascent
Along the journey toward the peak, whether it was spirit beasts or enchanted puppets, it seemed as though every creature had been given special favor. None of these beings even batted an eye at Fang Jinyu's presence—instead, they made every effort not to obstruct his path. In a quiet, almost fated procession, his progress went unimpeded as if the world itself had conspired to bring him smoothly to the summit.
At last, upon reaching the high pinnacle of the mountain, Fang Jinyu bowed deeply and called out in a respectful tone, "Disciple Fang Jinyu humbly presents myself before the Patriarch!"
Almost immediately, a firm yet welcoming response echoed in the crisp air: "Come in!"
At that very moment, the scene on the mountaintop shifted as if by magic. The rugged peak vanished into layers of swirling clouds and mist, and before his very eyes, an otherworldly island now suspended in midair came into focus. As if the very heavens had arranged a staircase for him, the nebulous vapors coalesced into a series of steps leading upward. Without hesitation, Fang Jinyu strode along these mist-formed stairs until he finally set foot upon the floating island, where the same young man he had encountered before now stood.
The youth—who had previously maintained a silent, impassive pose with his arms clasped behind his back—remained just as before, his back turned, exuding an air of quiet authority. After a moment's pause, the young man slowly turned to face Fang Jinyu. His expression was inscrutable, veiled by a hint of mischief as if he were testing fate itself. Without any preamble, he raised a hand in a subtle gesture. As he did, the small, glimmering "Restriction Pearl" that had long been affixed to Fang Jinyu's person suddenly flew free from his clothing.
In one smooth, almost casual motion, the Nascent Soul Patriarch—whose presence now filled the space as surely as the shifting mists—waved his hand. With that single gesture, he erased any trace of the records and markings that the Restriction Pearl once bore. In a graceful, deliberate act, he then tossed the Pearl back into Fang Jinyu's hand as if it were nothing more than a trinket to be passed along from teacher to student.
Overwhelmed with gratitude and respect, Fang Jinyu quickly bowed his head and said, "Thank you, Patriarch!"
An Unusual Blessing, and a Canny Exchange
The Nascent Soul Patriarch's eyes twinkled with a knowing light as he continued in a measured tone, "I have in my possession a Yin-Thunder Spirit Pearl. Should you be able to accumulate 10,000 merit points within three years, you may claim it from me."
At these words, Fang Jinyu's mind raced with possibility. He understood instantly what was being offered—a rare chance to enhance his cultivation by transmuting certain magical treasures. With a humble nod and a tone laced with excitement yet wrapped in polite deference, he replied, "Thank you, Patriarch, for granting me this opportunity!"
The Patriarch regarded him with an almost imperceptible smile before adding, "Hmm… since your fate truly appears to be on the rise, it is indeed your good fortune. As for another magical treasure that you might covet, you will have to find your own path to it. Though your current cultivation is still low, spirit pearls of wind and fire attributes are not exactly rare in our circles."
As if punctuating his words with a final flourish, the old master flicked his sleeve lightly. In that swift moment, Fang Jinyu's surroundings blurred—and when his vision cleared, he realized he had been transported. He now found himself at the very foot of Guiwang Peak.
In that disorienting, fleeting moment, Fang Jinyu admired the unfathomable power of the Nascent Soul stage—so mystical that moments later, he couldn't help but think aloud with a twinge of self-deprecation, "For someone at the Nascent Soul stage, spirit pearls are nothing special—they're almost handed to you on a silver platter. But I, I'm only of Foundation Establishment level!"
He paused, contemplating the significance of his reflection. "Yet… that stone ball artifact I obtained earlier… it appears that it is of the Yin-Thunder attribute…" he murmured to himself. A secret thrill lit his heart. He had long nurtured a dual affinity for wind and thunder, and soon, if he could secure this Yin-Thunder Spirit Pearl, he would have the means to transmute that very stone ball magical artifact into something far more potent. Not only would he perfect his luck and refine his fate, but he would also harness some of the tremendous power embedded in the magical treasures around him.
Return to the Spirit Medicine Peak
With his mind now racing with visions of future power and the trajectories of mystical fate, Fang Jinyu resolved to return to the Li-Character Spirit Medicine Peak. After all, his sect counted offerings in the form of spirit medicines as one of the easiest ways to steadily accumulate merit points. It was common knowledge that even one spirit medicine pill, used at the Foundation Establishment stage—comparable in potency to the minor Dao-entry "Miao Spirit Pill"—could garner as many as 50 merit points. In contrast, a summoning spirit pill might yield as many as 200 merit points with a single offering.
Though 10,000 merit points loomed large as a goal, Fang Jinyu was confident: with focused determination and perhaps a small measure of internal competition among himself, he would be able to amass the required merit within only a few months of diligent work. His determination was resolute even as he considered the promising reward proffered by the Patriarch.
Almost as if on cue, the familiar aura of a Golden Core cultivator began to permeate the air. Soon, from somewhere in the distance, two distinct voices reverberated, punctuating the silence with familiar calls.
"Hey, that kid—wait up!"
Fang Jinyu turned around abruptly. There, emerging as if from a previous encounter, were the two Golden Core Black Pigs—enigmatic, yet undeniably influential spirit beings he had met before. Their presence exuded a level of cultivation that far surpassed his own current level.
Without missing a beat, Fang Jinyu quickly clasped his hands together in respectful salute and said, "Respected seniors, pray tell what is your bidding?"
One of the black pigs inched forward, his voice carrying both amusement and genuine curiosity. "Not that it's anything troublesome," he rumbled, "but you carry the scent of spirit medicines, and I detect quite a bit of fiery energy about you. You must be an alchemist of some sort, aren't you?"
"Indeed," Fang Jinyu replied with modest pride, "though at present, I can only manage to refine pills for the Foundation Establishment stage."
The black pig snorted softly, his tone both teasing and approving. "In that case, I have a proposal for you. I've got a few Foundation Establishment fruits here. I want you to refine for me ten batches of Foundation Establishment pills from them."
At these words, the pig's mouth moved as he generated a luminous, flowing bubble that shimmered with inner light. When the bubble parted, Fang Jinyu could see that it was crammed full with what looked like Foundation Establishment fruits. For a moment, he was taken aback. The pig had casually said "a few" of them—but even looking inside that bubble, it was evident that there were anywhere from twenty to thirty fruits, more than he had anticipated.
With a sheepish expression and a hint of self-consciousness, Fang Jinyu admitted, "I… I haven't yet mastered the formula for refining Foundation Establishment pills."
Before he could protest further, the black pig produced a small jade slip from his possession and simply said, "Take this."
The two black pigs had come so well-prepared that their readiness left Fang Jinyu in a state of mixed gratitude and bewilderment. Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, "In our sect, we have alchemists. Why do you choose to handle this matter yourselves instead of consulting them?"
The other black pig chuckled and replied, "It's simple—you caught our eye. We like what we see."
A wry smile played on Fang Jinyu's lips as he considered the hidden subtleties of such an evaluation. Sometimes, benefits come in unexpected ways—even advantages earned through something as mundane as diligently cleaning after one's own pets might accumulate into invisible blessings. With a respectful bow, Fang Jinyu said, "If you, revered seniors, hold me in such high regard, I promise I will refine the Foundation Establishment pills flawlessly. But tell me—once I have refined the pills, where would you prefer them delivered?"
"Just take them to Spirit Beast Valley," came the concise reply.
"Understood," Fang Jinyu responded, carefully concealing the excitement in his heart. With measured calm, he packed away the precious Foundation Establishment fruits and bid farewell to the two black pigs.
No sooner had Fang Jinyu departed than one of the black pigs called after him in a lowered, conspiratorial tone, "Besides noticing that you have a promising aura, there's something more, isn't there? We didn't have time to ask you before… could you share your true motives?"
Fang Jinyu paused for a moment before answering with a quiet chuckle, "It's nothing of great consequence. I only recall that while I was chatting and swapping gossip with that rather foolish Foundation Establishment 'bird' over on Spirit Medicine Peak, someone mentioned that I might have the potential to develop into a Saint-level alchemist. Apparently, there's even a fruit in Wang's possession—a fruit that has been maturing for nearly a century—and if I can truly unlock that potential, then by having me refine a batch of pills, both your and my cultivation would receive a sizable boost."
The other black pig interjected, "Yes, among our spirit beasts, as long as you aren't on someone's dinner menu, everything can be arranged quite amicably."
The Promise of Strategic Resources
Before long, Fang Jinyu found himself back at the Li Spirit Medicine Peak. There, he meticulously counted the available Foundation Establishment fruits that had come into his possession. "All told, thirty-five Foundation Establishment fruits," he murmured appreciatively to himself, his heart fluttering with the thrill of opportunity.
In the immortal sects, Foundation Establishment pills were nothing short of strategic resources—treasures that transformed the very balance of power. Not surprisingly, the major sects maintained a near-monopoly on the bulk of Foundation Establishment fruits. Yet, being mindful not to appear too greedy or showy, each sect would discreetly allocate roughly one-tenth of their prized fruits into the sect marketplace. This, in turn, was the only realistic channel through which independent cultivators like Fang Jinyu could hope to acquire these fruits.
Of course, there were rare occasions when wild Foundation Establishment fruits would bloom unexpectedly in nature; however, the conditions required for a fruit's maturation were incredibly demanding—a precise balance of local spiritual energy and atmospheric potency that occurred only rarely.
As the logistics of his new venture settled into focus, Fang Jinyu recalled an important adage: "One Foundation Establishment fruit can provide the core ingredient needed to refine one batch of Foundation Establishment pills." He added to that his recent revelation: "And one such pill, when refined to perfection, can be exchanged for as many as 500 merit points!"
The sheer scale of these rewards, while daunting at first glance, only deepened Fang Jinyu's resolve. Immediately, he threw himself into the study of the alchemical formula required to refine Foundation Establishment pills. For what seemed like hours—indeed, for two full days—he poured over every detail and nuance of the formula. At last, as if by magic, a familiar text box materialized before his eyes on his inner mental screen:
[Today is the day I inexplicably offended the old protagonist]
[Extract the Future Opportunity to Obtain the Old Protagonist 1]
Though this opportunity was not heralded by the usual gleaming arrow of fate, it now came in the form of a countdown. There, displayed in stark digital form, was a timer reading:
[3:23:59:59]
Fang Jinyu's pulse quickened as he muttered, "A four-day countdown?" He was taken aback by the suddenness of what appeared to be an opportunity dropped right into his lap. Yet, even as wonder mingled with apprehension, a deep chill of foreboding crept through him. He remembered, with a sinking heart, that this particular opportunity—the one bestowed by the Sea King, as it were—had a reputation for being tied to earthly, often troublesome, matters concerning men. "Surely that can't be," he whispered under his breath, "or else...?"
After a moment's pause, Fang Jinyu resolved with a touch of wry humor, "Well then, worst case scenario, I'll simply choose not to step out when the time comes!" He recognized that this was the one opportunity he least desired—its consequences too unpredictable to risk his current path.
The formula for refining Foundation Establishment pills was a whole other world of challenge compared with even the Minor Dao-Entry Miao Spirit Pill. Fang Jinyu had scrutinized the formula for two whole days before he finally reached an understanding—a breakthrough he identified as his first "Foundation Establishment Pill Insight 1." Only then did he summon enough confidence to initiate the actual refining process.
At its core, the Foundation Establishment pill relied on the Foundation Establishment fruit as its central ingredient. The other supplementary materials, in contrast, were little more than ordinary spirit medicines—if only they had been aged for around ten years, they would suffice. In this phase of his journey, Fang Jinyu even had to pay out of his own pocket for these additional ingredients, a modest expense compared to the potential yield of power.
And so it began: the first batch. Remarkably, this initial attempt—against all the odds—bypassed the usual disasters of an exploded furnace, and the pills were successfully refined. After counting and double-checking his progress, Fang Jinyu determined that he had acquired seven fully formed Foundation Establishment pills in his inaugural batch.
However, fortune is fickle. When he proceeded to a second batch, the process halted abruptly, ending in failure—a result that, though disappointing, was not entirely unexpected. Resolute but cautious, Fang Jinyu pressed on, only to find that the third batch, and then the fourth, succumbed to repeated mishaps and collapsed one after another. These successive setbacks forced him to decide that a brief retreat would be wise—a pause to regroup and study his failures more attentively.
Sitting quietly for a moment with his mind as turbulent as the swirling mists outside, Fang Jinyu gazed at the handful of Foundation Establishment pills in his hand. The sight conjured memories and possibilities, and, almost without warning, he recalled someone—a person of significance whose memory still stirred emotions within him. Moved by the recollection and driven by an inner urgency, he gently placed three of the precious pills into a small, exquisitely carved jade bottle. With determined resolve, he then soared away on his spiritual artifact toward Goddess Peak, intent on delivering the gift—or perhaps seeking further guidance.
The Labyrinth of Fate and Alchemy
As Fang Jinyu flew toward the distant peak, his thoughts were a kaleidoscope of ambition, trepidation, and wistfulness. He pondered the curious interplay of fate and merit, the mysterious opportunities that sometimes were thrust upon a cultivator as if by design. Every small success in refining his pills now carried more weight than ever, for not only did these pills represent strategic resources that could dramatically enhance one's cultivation, but they also signified a latent promise—an opportunity to finally be recognized as a top-tier alchemist.
His journey had taken an unexpected turn from the mystical ascension on the floating island to the practical, yet profoundly significant, task of refining alchemical elixirs. Every step of his progress was now intertwined with destiny's countdown—a literal ticking clock that reminded him that within only four days, events that he had long feared might come to pass would be set in motion. Although a part of him shivered at this revelation, another part burned with a determined fire. His dual affinity for wind and thunder, once a quiet ember, now promised a tempest of power once the Yin-Thunder Spirit Pearl found its rightful role in his destiny.
Fang Jinyu's thoughts also turned to the earlier conversation with the two black pigs. Their casual banter and candid assessments had struck a chord deep within him. Not only were they offering him an opportunity to accumulate merit by refining pills, but they had also, in their own rough-hewn manner, indicated that his potential far exceeded that of an ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator. They spoke in hushed yet excited tones about how, if he could indeed unlock his latent alchemical talent to a Saint-level, they would all benefit—an exchange of immeasurable power that would enrich both their lives. Such conversations, punctuated by humorous references to mundane benefits (as even scooping manure for a month somehow translated into an "invisible advantage"), added an undercurrent of camaraderie to the otherwise arduous journey of cultivation.
Yet even as these ideas swirled in his mind, Fang Jinyu maintained a disciplined focus. Gathering his scattered thoughts, he recounted the terms and rewards of refining Foundation Establishment pills once more: thirty-five Foundation Establishment fruits had been secured, a vital resource monopolized by the top sects but available in measured quantities for the solitary cultivator. The notion that one fruit could yield one batch of pills—and that each pill could be exchanged for a whopping 500 merit points—filled him with both awe and a potent determination. He realized that if he could master the art of alchemy through persistent effort, not only would his immediate cultivation improve, but he might also unlock a series of opportunities that could redefine his future path as an alchemist.
As his mental calculations swirled, an unexpected overlay of digital text emerged in his vision—a subtle sign only a true cultivator in these modern times could decipher. The text box announced in a stark, almost cryptic manner that today was the day he had somehow offended the old protagonist—a reference so inexplicable and surreal as to send a chill directly down his spine. With a digital countdown now displayed—3 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, and 59 seconds—Fang Jinyu was forced to confront a destiny he had neither chosen nor fully understood.
A sharp, internal voice whispered doubt: "Four days… Could it truly be that a countdown has begun on this so-called opportunity? And why does this particular chance always seem intertwined with those troublesome matters of the Sea King's fated dealings with mortal men?" His heart pounded as he considered the implications. The opportunity was clearly not one he desired, the one opportunity that threatened to uproot everything he had been laboring toward. In his most candid moment, he resolved with an irritable humor, "If it comes to that, then I'll simply choose not to step out when the time arrives!" It was the only opportunity he wished to avoid.
Still, the task at hand—the refining of the Foundation Establishment pills—demanded his focus. With every measured breath and every minute detail of the alchemy formula resonating in his mind, Fang Jinyu felt both the weight of his current limitations and the promise of potential that lay just beyond his grasp. Every failure of the earlier batches, every explosion or miscalculation, was simply a stepping stone toward his eventual mastery. He would learn, adjust, and ultimately harness the miraculous yet complicated art of alchemy that was so revered among the immortals.
Refining the Future
With unwavering determination, Fang Jinyu began his next round of experiments. The first batch had yielded seven precious pills—a glittering testament to his budding skill. Yet, as he proceeded with subsequent batches, the refinement process became increasingly fraught with mishaps. The second batch—and disastrously, the third and fourth—collapsed under his fumbling attempts to balance the volatile ingredients and his own fluctuating inner energies.
Realizing that his current methods would not sustain the lofty expectations placed upon him, Fang Jinyu allowed himself a brief intermission—a moment to rest, to meditate deeply on the nature of his failures, and to seek clarity in the silence of his heart. During this pause, his mind wandered between memories of past mentors and the vibrant pulse of life in the immortal peaks. The steady toll of the countdown in his inner vision reminded him that time waited for no one. Every tick of the clock was a sign that his fate was inching ever closer to an irreversible transformation.
As he sat in quiet reflection, the refined pills resting inconspicuously in his hand, a sudden thought emerged—a force of recollection that tugged at the very fibers of his being. There was someone he had not seen in perhaps too long, a person whose memory was intimately bound with his own journey. In a moment of resolute spontaneity, he carefully selected three of the seven pills, placing them into a small, elegantly designed jade bottle. The gesture, though simple, carried the weight of future promises and unspoken connections. With the jade container secured, Fang Jinyu rose and, without looking back, launched himself toward the distant expanse of Goddess Peak on his spiritual transport device.
He flew over vast landscapes where nature and mystic energies intermingled—a realm where the wind whispered ancient secrets and the mountains bore the scars of timeless battles. In the height of the soaring moments, the future looked both uncertain and dazzling. His future, it seemed, was inscribed with both the scars of past mistakes and the indomitable promise of growth and achievement.
A Journey That Binds Fate and Alchemy
The flight toward Goddess Peak proved to be as much a journey inward as it was a physical traversal of space and time. Every passing cloud, every burst of ethereal light, reinforced the idea that fate was not a simple straight line but a labyrinth of countless choices and hidden opportunities. The digital countdown—in all its ominous clarity—reminded him that destiny now had a timer attached, and that even as he labored toward his own breakthroughs, the threads of fate were being woven toward outcomes he had not yet chosen.
Along the way, memories of earlier encounters with the Black Pigs and their witty banter resurfaced. Their playful teasing about his potential, contrasted against the harsh realities of his low-level cultivation, served as both a reminder and a motivator. While they humorously mentioned that he must be "as good as a Saint-level alchemist" to refine that mystical fruit which had been maturing, Fang Jinyu recognized that success in alchemy was not simply about meeting external benchmarks but also about nurturing inner resolve. He recalled how they had deferred to him, insisting that his inherent talents made him an ideal candidate for leveraging even the most common spirit pills into something extraordinary. And though the black pigs japed—attributing his potential sometimes to trivial, even humorous, deeds like "scooping manure for a month"—there was an unmistakable sincerity in their evaluation of his abilities.
Every word, every raised eyebrow in that conversation, reinforced his ambition to not only refine the pills for merit accumulation but also to prove to himself that he could overcome the limitations of his current state. The exchange was a vivid tapestry of expectation and challenge—a subtle pact between his humble beginnings and a future filled with the promise of transformative alchemy.
Upon landing at the base of the Li Spirit Medicine Peak, Fang Jinyu took a moment to collect his thoughts. The crisp mountain air carried with it the faint fragrance of rare spirit herbs and the silent knowledge of countless cultivators who had trod this path before him. With determination in his eyes, he systematically reviewed the numbers: thirty-five Foundation Establishment fruits were now his to use. Every single one represented not just a piece of raw power but a strategic asset—a coveted resource that immortal sects would guard jealously. In a world where even a single fruit could refine into a batch of pills yielding enormous merit, obtaining these fruits was akin to seizing a rare, strategic advantage in a cosmic game of chance and destiny.
Contemplating the practical benefits, Fang Jinyu whispered to himself, "One Foundation Establishment fruit yields one batch of pills, and one pill exchanges for 500 merit points. If I can perfect the technique, the rewards will enable my cultivation to leap forward by leaps and bounds."
Yet, amidst all these calculations and hopes, the mysterious text floated into his consciousness once more. The message—from an unknown, almost mocking source tied to the enigmatic "old protagonist"—now imposed a countdown upon him: a ticking clock that reminded him of an opportunity he both longed for and dreaded. With the numbers glaring at him—3 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds—he could almost hear the slow, inexorable beat of time, urging him onward toward destiny.
Despite the chilling implications of this countdown, Fang Jinyu resolved that he would plate every ounce of his strength and learn every nuance of the formidable alchemical formula. For two full days he had studied it, consulted arcane texts, and even experimented with variations in the ingredients he procured with his own funds. By the end of those two days, fleeting moments of enlightenment had culminated in what he now called "Foundation Establishment Pill Insight 1." With this insight, he felt at last ready to embark on the next phase of the process—the dangerous, exhilarating act of refinement.
Trials in the Furnace
Emboldened by his newfound understanding, Fang Jinyu returned to his modest alchemical workshop at the base of the peak. The furnace, a relic of ancient methods combined with modern ingenuity, stood ready. With cautious optimism, he began his first batch of refinement. Every step was executed with meticulous precision: measuring the refined extract from the Foundation Establishment fruits, carefully blending in the other auxiliary spirit medicines aged for the requisite ten years, and channeling his inner energy into the cauldron.
By some stroke of fortune—a convergence of practice and latent talent—the first batch emerged without a single catastrophic explosion. Not only did the furnace remain intact, but Fang Jinyu managed to extract seven perfectly formed Foundation Establishment pills. His heart swelled with pride at this unexpected success.
Yet, as is often the case in the tumultuous world of alchemy, success in one trial does not guarantee consistency in the next. The second batch, attempted with the same fervor, collapsed in a blaze of failure. Despite his mastery over techniques that had once brought him hope, the second attempt faltered even before it could fully emerge. This setback, though not surprising given the steep difficulty of the formula, forced him to pace himself and rethink his strategy.
Undeterred, Fang Jinyu moved on to his third and fourth batches. Each successive attempt, however, ended in disappointment—the cauldron would sputter, the mixture would curdle or burst into uncontrollable flames, and once again, the alchemical process would come to a bitter halt. With each failure, the weight of the task bore down on him. In that moment, as the frustration mingled with exhaustion, he decided that for the sake of his sanity and future success, it would be best to pause his experiments and allow himself a brief respite.
Sitting against the cool stone wall illuminated by the twilight of the mountain, Fang Jinyu slowly examined the small pile of Foundation Establishment pills he had succeeded in refining earlier. Their subdued glow and firm consistency were both a testament to his potential and a reminder of the steep journey ahead. As he cradled one of the pills in his hand, memories and hopeful dreams flashed through his mind—memories of mentors, of challenges surmounted, and of a future where these very pills would elevate him to levels he had only dared to imagine.
Then, as if stirred by destiny itself, a quiet thought surfaced. There was someone he had longed to reach out to—a person whose presence, though distant, was intimately tied to his own aspirations. Acting on impulse and the quiet urgency that sometimes accompanies revelation, Fang Jinyu took three of the refined pills and carefully placed them in a small, polished jade bottle. This act, bittersweet and full of both promise and regret, signified a turning point. With the bottle secured, he rose from his meditative state, determined to fly toward Goddess Peak—a place whispered about in legends where divine artifacts and elusive destiny awaited.
The Road Ahead: Destiny Set in Motion
Fang Jinyu's flight to Goddess Peak was not just a physical journey; it was a passage into another realm of his very being. Over vast expanses of rugged land and beneath the gaze of ancient heavens, he soared on his spiritual device. The mountain ranges below, bathed in the glow of the setting sun and shrouded by mystical mists, seemed to murmur secrets of times long past and of futures yet to be written. Every gust of wind carried hints of promise and peril alike.
During his flight, the earlier conversation with the two black pigs echoed within him—the teasing, the candid assessments, and the implicit belief that his potential could one day rival even the highest alchemists among the sects. Their words, though lighthearted and laced with humor, had planted seeds of ambition deep within his heart. They had spoken not only of merit points and strategic resources but also hinted at a future where, with his talents refined to the utmost limit, he might take on challenges that could transform the fates of those around him.
Yet even as these thoughts swirled amid the currents of the wind, the countdown that now hovered in his inner vision—3:23:59:59—remained a constant, pulsing reminder that time was of the essence. It was the one opportunity he dreaded above all, for he had heard murmurs that such opportunities, especially those tied to the mysterious Sea King's conditions, often came with complications he did not fully understand. In a moment of private humor mingled with resignation, he told himself, "If it all comes to a head, I'll simply choose not to go out. I don't want this one chance to ruin everything."
On landing at Goddess Peak, the air was charged with the rarefied energy of the divine. Here, among crumbling stone altars and ancient statues cloaked in moss, every moment was heavy with the weight of destiny. With the jade bottle clutched tightly in hand, Fang Jinyu silently vowed that he would perfect his alchemical craft. He knew that the path ahead would demand unwavering determination—but in that determination lay the key to unlocking the true potential of both the magical treasures he had collected and the spirit energies that now surged within him.
He recalled the long hours spent studying the intricate formula for Foundation Establishment pills. The formula was a blend of ancient wisdom, lost techniques, and modern insights—a synthesis that few had ever mastered. Every task he had attempted in that furnace, every setback, was meant to test his resolve and hone his skills. And now, gathered together on the brink of a new chapter, he could almost feel his inner energy aligning with the pulsating rhythms of the universe.
A New Chapter Dawns
As the evening deepened and the first stars began to punctuate the darkening sky, Fang Jinyu prepared his next move with quiet determination. The jade bottle, containing the three precious pills—to be delivered as a token to someone special or as an offering to unlock further destiny—rested in his hand. His mind was a turbulent blend of pride in his progress and apprehension about the challenges yet to come.
He knew that the alchemical practice he was undertaking was far more than a method of refining materials—it was a sacred dialogue between his soul and the cosmic forces that governed all life. Every misfired batch, every flicker of uncontrollable energy, was a lesson whispered by the heavens. Every successful refinement was a nod from fate, urging him onward toward a higher level of self-mastery. In that crucible of trial and possibility, Fang Jinyu was not merely forging pills—he was forging his own destiny.
He recalled even the teasing jests of the black pigs who had, in their rough manner, told him that while he was still a humble Foundation Establishment cultivator, his potential might one day allow him to ascend to the rare ranks of Saint-level alchemists. Their words rang in his ears as both a challenge and a promise: if he could master the art of alchemy well enough, then not only would his own cultivation be enriched, but he could well provide for others—and perhaps even alter the balance of power among the immortal sects.
Every tick of the mysterious countdown forced him to confront the paradox of opportunity: that sometimes, even as a promise of future glory was handed to him, it could also bring strife and messy complications. Yet, the imbued intensity in his heart and the ever-present spark of ambition drove him forward. The winds of fate were stirring, and he could almost see the silhouettes of his dreams emerging within the mists of time.
With the first stars now glimmering overhead, Fang Jinyu adjusted his course. His next destination lay beyond mere physical boundaries—it was not simply a mountain peak or a mystical valley—but a realm where destiny itself awaited its final reckoning. Every heartbeat echoed with determination as he soared onward, leaving behind the familiar slopes of Spirit Medicine Peak and venturing into a future shaped by the combined powers of fate, merit, and alchemical insight.
As he disappeared into the horizon, the mountain's silent majesty bore witness to the promise of transformation. In that charged atmosphere, where every element of nature conspired to uplift those who embraced its mysteries, Fang Jinyu's journey stood as a reminder that every setback, every nebulous moment of doubt, was but a stepping stone toward an exhilarating destiny—a destiny that was waiting to be written, one refined pill at a time.
Epilogue: In the Wake of Destiny
In the quiet that followed his departure, the peaks and valleys around Spirit Medicine Peak and Guiwang Peak seemed to murmur in approval. The crisp air, laced with the faint scent of ancient herbs and the echo of centuries-old incantations, bore silent testimony to the arduous paths that cultivators had trodden before. Fang Jinyu's bold venture into the realm of alchemy, despite its trembling uncertainties and looming risks, was now but one chapter in an endless chronicle of ambition, sacrifice, and quiet triumph.
His journey—a delicate balance of fate and personal endeavor—was far from over. With the yin and yang of magical energies swirling around him, the promise of a magical artifact's might, and the weight of a mysterious countdown looming in his inner vision, Fang Jinyu had embraced a life conjoined with both the ethereal and the tangible. The promise of a Yin-Thunder Spirit Pearl that might one day amplify his power, the subtle, yet potent, connection between the Foundation Establishment fruits and the refined pills that could yield enormous merit points—all of these now interwove to create a future whose radiance was matched only by its uncertainty.
As the night deepened and the celestial bodies took their proper places in the vault of the sky, his flight toward Goddess Peak became emblematic of a larger truth: that every cultivator, no matter how lowly their station, ultimately embarks on a journey of self-mastery and destiny. And while the path ahead was shrouded in mystery, layered with the trials, triumphs, and nuances of mystical alchemy, Fang Jinyu knew in his heart that every moment, every refined pill, was an integral note in the grand symphony of fate.
Thus, with the jade bottle securely in hand and his spirit emboldened by both the challenges and quiet affirmations along the way, Fang Jinyu pressed on—undaunted by the ticking clock of destiny. For in that ticking, in every fraction of a second that marched inexorably toward the unknown, there lay the promise of growth, the chance to rewrite one's fate, and the timeless possibility that even the humblest of beginnings could give rise to unmatched majesty and power.