Four days had passed in the external world.
Beyond the secluded domain where Wu Ming cultivated, the masses continued their lives in careless indulgence-feasting, drinking, celebrating fleeting pleasures that bore neither meaning nor purpose. Some gathered in idle amusement, laughing without restraint, their minds unanchored, their spirits scattered, paying no heed to the Path that lay before them. To them, time was something to be spent... not something to be forged.
Within the Domain of Will-
I remain here.
Though only four days have passed beyond, within this boundless inner world... two hundred days have already flowed like a silent river through my awareness. Even if I once stood upon the pinnacle of existence, possessing a mind as unshakable as the firmament itself... that was a truth of the past. In this present life, my endurance is still lacking-fragile, imperfect, and far from absolute.
Yet... what of it?
Such trivial weakness is unworthy of concern.
I continue to train-unceasingly, relentlessly-immersing myself in the art of alchemical refinement. Failure follows failure, countless times over, yet each collapse is not in vain. Every mistake tempers my foundation, every setback sharpens my understanding. No being is born in mastery, nor does perfection arise without fracture.
All things must be carved from hardship-tempered by patience, forged through exhaustion.
Still... I possess advantages others do not.
Fragments of knowledge, remnants of understanding, echoes of techniques far beyond the ordinary... these remain within me. Yet even so, in this life, I am no different from any other cultivator. I begin again from nothing.
So be it.
If the path is difficult, I will walk it until it becomes simple.
If it is complex, I will refine it until it becomes instinct.
Until one day...
The act of refinement itself becomes as natural as thought-A single intention... and the pill is born.
BOOM-!
A surge of energy erupts within me.
The boundless forces of heaven and earth within this domain tremble as I draw upon them, gathering their essence and compressing it into my core. My Qi moves in perfect circulation, guiding the gathered energy into a singular focus as I begin the process once more-this time without hesitation.
The herbs dissolve.
Their forms collapse, breaking apart into streams of pure essence-liquid fragments of life itself, dense with vitality, shimmering like droplets drawn from the source of existence.
BOOM-!
They begin to merge.
Opposing forces intertwine, clash, and stabilize under my control as the condensed energy forms into a spherical shape. The transformation completes-no longer chaotic, no longer resisting-only harmonized into a singular existence.
Then-
The energy of heaven and earth descends.
It compresses into the forming pill, sealing within it a vast reservoir of life force so potent that even in its contained state, it radiates an aura of vitality that cannot be concealed.
"Haah..."
I exhale slowly, exhaustion finally surfacing.
At last...
After countless failures-after enduring backlash and collapse again and again-
I have succeeded.
This is no ordinary pill.
Even crude refinement could produce lesser medicines through brute force alone... but this this is different. This is a pill born of life essence itself, infused with the power of heaven and earth. Any cultivator who consumes it at the brink of a bottleneck... could shatter their limits in a single step.
"Hah... hahahaha..."
Laughter escapes me-unrestrained, genuine.
At last... I have grasped it.
The art of refinement... is now within my control.
This alone... is enough to pass the second trial.
And this pill-
Something I forged through such hardship-
How could I waste it on another?
Without hesitation-
I toss the pill into my mouth and swallow.
The moment it dissolves, a surge of energy spreads through my body.
The life force within the pill disperses rapidly, merging with my own Qi as the energy of heaven and earth floods into my meridians. I guide it carefully, circulating it throughout my entire body, reinforcing my foundation, strengthening every pathway, every node, every hidden corner within me.
My power rises-steadily, undeniably-
Until-
I reach it.
The bottleneck.
I lower my hands slowly, exhaling in measured rhythm as I stabilize my breathing, allowing the turbulent energy to settle into stillness.
"At last... I have reached the limit of this realm."
Yet... something is wrong.
This bottleneck-
It feels... vast.
Far beyond what it should be.
As though the boundary before me has expanded a hundredfold, stretching into something immeasurable, something far greater than what I had anticipated.
"...No matter."
I suppress the thought.
There are more pressing concerns.
During my repeated failures, the shadows of distraction had nearly taken root within my mind. Those subtle deviations-those wandering thoughts-had begun to form the seeds of inner corruption, threatening to disrupt my focus from within.
But they were cut down.
Destroyed before they could take form.
A wandering mind is more dangerous than any external enemy.
If one cannot maintain true control over one's own thoughts... then the Path will inevitably collapse.
With that, I withdraw my consciousness.
The boundless inner world fades, dissolving into silence as I return to reality beneath the ancient tree.
The moment I open my eyes-
I notice it immediately.
The surrounding environment has changed.
The air is thicker with natural energy, the aura of life more vibrant than before, as though the land itself had been nourished by an unseen force.
"...So it spread outward."
My presence-
My refinement-
The energy within me had overflowed, subtly altering the environment around me.
"That will not do."
Without delay, I conceal my aura completely, sealing every trace of energy within myself until nothing leaks outward. To be noticed now would only invite unnecessary attention.
With my presence hidden, I rise to my feet.
Calm.
Unhurried.
I begin walking toward the heart of the city-
....
....
.....
Wu Ming arrived at the heart of Quan Dian City and soon discovered that one of the city's most renowned inns was packed to the brim. The patrons were gathered in animated discussion, exchanging news and fragments of information-some of which many present had clearly never heard before.
Without delay, he stepped inside, ordered food, wine, and a seat for himself, intending to listen carefully to every word being said.
Suddenly, a man shouted out in excitement, his voice ringing through the hall:
"Do you know this? For the second round of the Talent Competition, they've invited a Grandmaster Alchemist to personally oversee and participate!"
His words instantly drew the attention of countless people, all turning their heads toward him.
Another man spoke casually, doubt lacing his tone.
"Wasn't the second round supposed to be a contest of alchemical knowledge?"
The first man replied at once,
"That's not wrong-but it's not the whole truth either. In the second round of the Talent Competition, all participants will also be required to refine and concoct pills. And if someone displays extraordinary talent and catches the eye of that Grandmaster Alchemist, then that Grandmaster is willing to accept him as a personal disciple!"
"What?!"
An uproar erupted inside the inn. Shock and disbelief rippled through the crowd as the news sank in.
Many people immediately began discussing the matter heatedly.
"Do you think this is an opportunity?" one voice exclaimed. "To become the disciple of a Grandmaster Alchemist-such a chance would be the greatest honor of one's life if successful!"
Another voice replied without hesitation,
"You're absolutely right. Becoming a disciple-or even being selected by a Tier-Four Grandmaster Alchemist-is not something ordinary people could ever dare to dream of. You should know just how exalted the status of a Grandmaster Alchemist truly is!"
Yet another person chimed in, nodding in agreement.
"Indeed. Being a disciple of a Grandmaster Alchemist is already the pinnacle of honor in one's lifetime. Even a Tier-Two or Tier-Three Alchemist is enough to dominate an entire inner city-let alone a Tier-Four Alchemist!"
"Exactly," someone added. "Within the realm of alchemy, the boundaries between ranks are vast and unmistakably clear."
A man rose proudly from his seat within the inn, his posture filled with confidence, before unveiling a piece of information so shocking that it instantly drew silence from the crowd.
"In the world of alchemists," he declared, "there exist five great realms."
1. Apprentice Alchemist
The most rudimentary stage upon the path of alchemy.
At this level, one's understanding is confined to the surface-mere recognition of herbal classifications and the basic elemental affinities of Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth. Every action is bound to rigid formulas and fixed procedures, as though walking a narrow bridge with no room for deviation.
An Apprentice may, with effort, kindle a faint flame-whether true fire or one's own Qi-and utilize it to refine the most elementary pills: those that restore a trace of vitality or mend minor wounds. Yet such refinement is precarious. A slight miscalculation in timing, temperature, or proportion will not merely result in failure, but often in violent backlash-the cauldron may shatter, or the energy within may erupt.
In truth, an Apprentice does not yet understand alchemy. He merely imitates it.
Like a child tracing the strokes of a master's calligraphy, the form may resemble the original-but the spirit is absent.
2. Disciple Alchemist
At this stage, one begins to step beyond blind memorization and into the threshold of comprehension.
A Disciple can adjust minor aspects of a formula-altering ratios,
stabilizing heat, and sensing the subtle reactions between herbs.
Though still imperfect, their control over flame and Qi becomes more refined, less erratic.
More importantly, a realization begins to dawn:
Alchemy is not the mere combination of ingredients... but the art of guiding them into harmony.
This understanding marks the Disciple's true awakening.
They are now capable of refining mid-tier pills-those that replenish Qi more effectively or mend deeper internal injuries. However, their success still relies heavily upon favorable conditions. Disruption-whether internal instability or external interference-can easily shatter their concentration.
At this level, the alchemist begins to think. Yet their thoughts remain tethered, not yet free.
3. Master Alchemist
Here begins the realm of true practitioners.
A Master Alchemist is no longer shackled by rigid formulas. Instead, they may devise their own methods, adapting to the nature of the materials before them. Through touch alone, they can perceive the hidden properties of herbs-their warmth, volatility, resistance, and latent vitality.
Their control over flame transcends the crude. It becomes precise-delicate to the smallest fluctuation, yet powerful enough to subdue opposing forces. Even contradictory elements, such as blazing fire and biting frost, may be brought into equilibrium under their guidance.
At this stage, one begins to grasp the deeper truths:
The balance of the Dao
The circulation of life force within all things
A Master can refine pills capable of breaking cultivation bottlenecks, or restoring grievous injuries that would cripple ordinary cultivators.
This is the realm of creation.
No longer imitation, nor mere understanding-but the forging of something new.
4. Grandmaster Alchemist
Upon reaching this level, the alchemist no longer refines substances alone-they command the very essence of transformation.
A Grandmaster does not simply control flame; they govern the entire state of the refinement process. They may alter the fundamental nature of herbs, reshaping their properties, forcing harmony upon elements that should never coexist.
To such a figure, contradiction is but another form of balance.
Their comprehension extends to:
The laws of nature
The endless transformation between life and death
The pills they create are no longer mundane. They can:
Reshape a cultivator's destiny
Restore shattered foundations
Awaken dormant potential and talent
At this height, one does not follow nature-One interferes with it.
5. Heaven Alchemist
At this exalted stage, the alchemist begins to tread upon the threshold of the heavens themselves.
No longer limited to personal Qi, they draw upon the vast forces of the world-the energies of heaven and earth, the fury of lightning, the breath of wind, the pulse of the land.
Their pills are imbued with spirit.
Some may even exhibit signs of awareness-attempting to flee upon completion, as though they possessed a will of their own. In such cases, refinement becomes not merely creation, but pursuit.
A Heaven Alchemist understands:
The cycle of emergence and dissolution
The invisible threads that bind fate and consequence
They do not command the heavens... But they have learned to work alongside them.
"These," the man concluded, "are the realms of alchemists — existences whose power and value are beyond ordinary imagination. And now, in the second round of the Talent Competition, a Grandmaster Alchemist has been invited to preside. There may even be a chance to become their disciple."
"This is an opportunity beyond doubt," he continued. "And it is precisely why the great powers treat alchemists with such reverence."
As these words spread, the entire inn erupted into cheers and excited chatter.
"So that's how it is!" someone exclaimed. "No wonder alchemists enjoy status and honor surpassing even some high-level cultivators!"
Just as the crowd reveled in this revelation, a calm yet chilling voice suddenly cut through the noise—bringing everything to an abrupt halt.
"How shallow," the voice said coldly,
"to believe that the realm of alchemists ends at Heaven Alchemist."
Every person in the inn was drawn toward the speaker. Even Wu Ming could not help but feel a surge of curiosity—Who is this man?
The speaker was handsome, his features sharp and refined. Though his demeanor was aloof, it was not arrogant—an odd contradiction that only made him more striking. He wore robes resembling those of an alchemist, yet no one recognized his attire or his face. None could tell where he hailed from.
The man who had explained the earlier realms slammed his hand on the table, shouting in anger
"Who do you think you are?! Claiming there are realms beyond Heaven Alchemist—are you pretending to be some enlightened sage? If you truly know, then speak! Explain it to us!"
The mysterious man sneered, then let out a soft chuckle.
"Very well," he said calmly. "Consider this an act of benevolence. I shall broaden your horizons—so you may cease being frogs trapped at the bottom of a well."
With that, he began to explain in meticulous detail the realms that lie beyond Heaven Alchemist—along with several divergent and supplementary paths.
6. Dao Alchemist
At this realm, the boundaries of alchemy dissolve entirely.
A Dao Alchemist no longer refines herbs alone, but concepts, forces, and even laws themselves.
Time.
Decay.
Vitality.
Emptiness.
These are no longer abstractions-but materials to be shaped.
One may:
Infuse a pill with the essence of time, accelerating or slowing a cultivator's growth
Transmute the nature of death into a source of life
Bind intangible principles into tangible form
Their understanding encompasses:
The Path of the Dao
The interplay between void and creation
This is the realm of the impossible-
Where one creates that which should not exist.
7. Origin Alchemist
The pinnacle.
A legend whispered of-yet rarely witnessed.
At this realm, the alchemist transcends conventional refinement altogether. No longer bound by furnaces, flames, or even tangible ingredients, they draw upon the very foundation of existence itself-shaping essence from apparent nothingness.
What they refine extends beyond materials into the deepest layers of reality:
The core of one's being
The principles governing the world
The endless cycle of rise and fall
Their creations defy logic. A single pill may alter destiny, overturn natural limits, or influence the fate of entire regions.
Yet despite such overwhelming power, an Origin Alchemist does not claim dominion over all things.
They stand at the edge of understanding-grasping fragments of truths far beyond the reach of ordinary cultivators.
At this height, they are no longer merely alchemists...
But beings who can touch the origins of transformation itself.
Supplement: Specialized Paths of Alchemy
Beyond realms, there exist divergent paths-each pursuing a different aspect of refinement.
Body Refinement Alchemist
Focuses on strengthening the physical vessel-power, resilience, regeneration. Their pills are favored by martial cultivators who walk the path of flesh and force.
Soul Alchemist
Specializes in spirit and consciousness. Their methods are subtle yet perilous-capable of healing the soul... or shattering it beyond repair.
Demonic Alchemist
Walks the shadowed path, utilizing blood, resentment, and lingering spiritual remnants. Their pills are potent-but often tainted, carrying grave risks.
Zen Alchemist
Seeks absolute balance and purity. Their pills harmonize body and spirit without side effects, though their refinement demands extraordinary clarity of mind.
Formation Alchemist
Integrates alchemy with formations. By inscribing arrays into the refining process, they achieve unparalleled precision-often surpassing others of the same realm.
The entire inn fell into stunned silence.
What they had just heard shattered their previous understanding, prying open a far broader horizon-one that revealed how pitifully shallow their knowledge of the higher realms of alchemy truly was.
At that moment, a senior attendant suddenly recalled something.
His gaze snapped back to the man before them, his expression changing dramatically-as though struck by lightning.
"I remember now!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with urgency. "It is an honor-no, a great honor-to meet the disciple of Grandmaster Huangfu Yan!"
His tone shifted instantly into one of reverence and fear.
"And you must be the Grandmaster's First Disciple-Han Xiaofeng! Please forgive this one for failing to recognize Mount Tai. I offer my deepest apologies for not welcoming you with proper ceremony-and for the rudeness shown by our guests."
The moment those words rang out, the crowd froze.
Eyes widened.
Mouths fell open.
No one could believe it.
The man standing calmly before them-the very one they had treated with barely concealed condescension-was the First Disciple of Grandmaster Huangfu Yan.
The same attendant who had earlier maintained a forced politeness now turned deathly pale. He dropped to his knees in panic, bowing repeatedly, his forehead nearly striking the floor as he begged for forgiveness.
Han Xiaofeng waved his hand dismissively, as though brushing aside dust.
Such a man-renowned, powerful, peerless in alchemical skill-how could he possibly take offense at the ignorance and hollow arrogance of ants?
A faint, tranquil smile curved his lips.
He lifted his teacup and took a slow, measured sip.
Yet before the tea could fully touch his lips, a voice interrupted-calm, steady, and utterly unafraid.
"Since you possess such profound understanding of alchemy, there is a matter upon which I hold a slightly different view."
The speaker paused deliberately.
"Regarding the alchemical systems of the Sixth and Seventh Realms...
there are aspects I find somewhat incomplete. Might I trouble you to clarify them-for the sake of resolving my confusion?"
The question rippled through the inn like a stone cast into still water.
Every patron turned to stare at the speaker in disbelief.
Foolish.
Reckless.
Suicidal.
How could someone dare question the doctrines laid out by the First Disciple of Grandmaster Huangfu Yan-to his face?
Han Xiaofeng did not bristle.
He did not frown.
Instead, he set the teacup down with unhurried grace, his eyes lifting ever so slightly.
A soft smile appeared-one that was neither warm nor cold.
"What question do you have?" he asked mildly.
The questioner inclined his head politely, his posture humble-yet his eyes gleamed with quiet sharpness.
"In the Sixth Realm, alchemy is said to refine concepts," he began.
"And in the Seventh, to touch the origins of existence itself."
He paused, as though choosing his words with great care.
"Yet from what you described, these realms still rely on external authority-the Dao, the Origin, the so-called 'truths of the world."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"If that is the case... are these alchemists truly refining the Dao?"
"Or merely borrowing its permission?"
The inn held its breath.
Han Xiaofeng's fingers stilled for the briefest moment.
The man continued, his tone respectful-almost admiring.
"If the Dao can be refined, it implies it can be altered."
"And if it can be altered, then it is no longer absolute."
His gaze met Han Xiaofeng's directly.
"So allow me to ask-
At the Sixth and Seventh Realms... are alchemists still walking within a system?"
"Or have they merely reached the highest level allowed by that system?"
The words were gentle.
The implication was anything but.
Han Xiaofeng laughed softly.
Not in anger.
Not in mockery.
But in quiet amusement.
"So," he said, eyes narrowing just a fraction,
"you believe the flaw lies not in comprehension... but in the framework itself?"
The questioner smiled faintly.
"I merely wonder," he replied calmly, "whether a cage lined with gold is still a cage."
The tension thickened-like invisible pressure pressing down upon every soul in the room.
Two minds circled each other.
Neither attacking.
Neither retreating.
One smiled with the confidence of inherited authority.
The other with the composure of someone who had already stepped beyond it.