In the alchemy chamber of the cave dwelling on the small stone mountain, Han Li exhaled a wisp of green pill flame as thick as a finger, continuously enveloping a half-foot-long silver-white cauldron.
The cauldron floated above an array formation at the center of the chamber, tumbling and rotating incessantly. Meanwhile, Han Li’s entire body shimmered with spiritual light, his expression betraying a hint of tension.
As time passed, a faint medicinal fragrance began to permeate the chamber. After inhaling just a few whiffs, Han Li felt invigorated, his face lighting up with joy.
When the fragrance finally shifted from faint to rich, a gleam flashed in Han Li’s eyes. Suddenly, he formed a hand seal, and the pill flame vanished instantly. With a soft utterance of “Open,” a spell shot out, striking a corner of the array formation with precision.
The formation emitted a low hum as several intertwined red and green beams of light shot forth, striking the silver cauldron. The small cauldron trembled slightly before its lid opened on its own, revealing a milky-white pill floating within.
The pill, about the size of a thumb, was translucent and shimmered with spiritual light. Wisps of milky-white spiritual mist hovered around it, faint yet discernible—a clear sign of a miraculous elixir.
At the sight of the pill, Han Li could no longer contain his elation.
The Nine-Curve Spirit Ginseng Pill had truly been successfully refined! After several consecutive failures, if this attempt had also failed, the agate horn and accompanying demon grass would have been insufficient for another round.
As for the most crucial ingredient, the Nine-Curve Spirit Ginseng, Han Li was not worried about its supply. When refining the pill, he had not dared to use the entire ginseng. Instead, he had extracted only a small amount of its essence, sparing the sentient plant’s life. Of course, this left the ginseng severely weakened, its manifested form—a white rabbit—appearing listless and feeble.
After pondering for several days, Han Li decided to apply the maturation-accelerating green liquid to the ginseng, albeit cautiously. He began with diluted doses, gradually increasing the concentration to avoid any mishaps.
Unlike ordinary spiritual herbs, this ginseng possessed a manifested form, making it unique. To his relief, the green liquid restored much of the ginseng’s vitality without adverse effects. From then on, Han Li replenished the ginseng’s essence with the green liquid after each extraction, ensuring an endless supply.
However, this method seemed effective only for the Nine-Curve Spirit Ginseng. Experiments with other herbs yielded poor results, making direct maturation more efficient.
Now, Han Li held the milky-white pill between his fingers, examining it closely. Its appearance and fragrance matched the pill formula’s description perfectly, but its true efficacy would only be known when consumed during his Spirit Infant formation.
With a sigh, Han Li carefully placed the hard-earned pill into a prepared jade box and stored it securely before leaving the alchemy chamber.
The fourth layer of the Great Development Art had been mastered five or six years prior, significantly enhancing his spiritual sense. As for the Azure Essence Sword Art, he had recently reached the ninth layer’s peak, propelling his cultivation to the False Infant stage.
Now, with both elixirs and techniques prepared, Han Li was ready—all that remained was the final step.
However, he did not rush into forming his Spirit Infant immediately after refining the pill. Instead, he left the cave dwelling and secluded himself in a serene, picturesque spot in the eastern range of Yunmeng Mountain, sitting motionless in meditation.
During this time, he meticulously reflected on his life’s journey—from the blissful days of childhood under his parents’ care, to playful moments with his younger sister, to his entry into the Seven Mysteries Sect through his uncle’s recommendation, where he met Li Feiyu and others. His chance encounter with Mo Daoren led him to cultivate the Evergreen Art, and his participation in the Tai Nan Gathering marked his true entry into the world of immortal cultivation.
As his memories shifted from vague to vivid, Han Li’s expression fluctuated between joy and anger, shedding his usual stoicism. After three days, his face calmed, and he entered a state of profound stillness, contemplating the Dao of Heaven and Earth.
A month later, when Han Li emerged from seclusion, his mind, body, and spiritual power were all at their peak, with his mental fortitude reaching new heights.
Returning to his cave dwelling with unwavering resolve, he activated all the protective formations and left only a brief instruction for Silvermoon: “Guard the entrance. No matter what happens, do not disturb me.” With that, he entered the meditation chamber in his flowing green robes.
The stone door descended silently, its surface glowing with dense runes as Han Li activated additional barriers to prevent disruptions during his Spirit Infant formation.
Though he had not explicitly stated his intentions, Silvermoon understood perfectly. A complex mix of envy, longing, and resignation flickered across her face as she gazed at the silent chamber before sighing and departing.
Bound inextricably to Han Li, she harbored her own hopes—chief among them, his success in forming his Spirit Infant.
Meanwhile, in the air not far from the herb garden, the Mu-clan woman drifted toward it absentmindedly, her jade-like face clouded with worry.
The ultimatum from her clan’s elders—forcing her into a marriage with the Yan-clan man—weighed heavily on her, casting a shadow over her future.
Had she been a Core Formation cultivator, the so-called “elders” would never have dared dictate her life. Instead, they would have treated her with reverence, for a Core Formation cultivator’s significance to a clan was undeniable.
Yet, the Mu-clan patriarch, eager to wed his grandson to the Yan-clan’s spoiled daughter, had orchestrated this absurd marriage arrangement through a political exchange.
Though outwardly composed, the woman seethed with silent fury. Strong-willed by nature, she maintained a facade of indifference, but her inner turmoil was undeniable.
Her original plan had been simple: delay the marriage until she could achieve Core Formation, thereby nullifying the arrangement.
But despite her exceptional talent, reaching Core Formation in just two or three decades was impossible. Even with relentless effort, she had only barely touched the threshold of the Core Formation stage. Reaching the False Core stage and attempting true Core Formation would require at least another twenty to thirty years of arduous cultivation.
While she could wait, her clan’s elders could not. They had finally dropped all pretense, threatening to cut off her spiritual stone supply and punish her closest relatives if she refused to comply.
Powerless to resist, the Mu-clan woman felt utterly defeated.
Even within the Falling Cloud Sect, where she was favored by the peak master and fellow disciples, none could intervene in the tangled web of clan interests. This only deepened her despair.
To make matters worse, the lecherous “Brother Yan” had caught wind of the situation and now pestered her daily at Sky Spring Peak. Were it not for her superior cultivation, he might have resorted to force. The thought of his smug face made her blood boil, tempting her to reduce him to ashes with a single strike of her magic treasure.
Today, coinciding with the herb gardens’ delivery day, she had volunteered for the task to escape his harassment. After visiting two gardens, she now headed toward the one managed by Han Li.
The thought of Han Li stirred a peculiar feeling within her. Initially, she had sensed something enigmatic about him, despite his apparent Qi Condensation cultivation. The Sword Trial Assembly had further fueled her suspicions that he might be concealing his true strength or identity, prompting her to observe him closely for years.
Yet, after two decades of uneventful routine—rarely leaving the herb garden, keeping few friends—she had concluded that her earlier speculations were mere wishful thinking. At best, he was an introverted, solitary disciple with mediocre talent, unlikely even to reach Foundation Establishment.
With a faint sigh, she dismissed these thoughts and accelerated toward her destination.
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