The whispers following Grandmaster Gong's death were of no consequence to Wei Lian. He returned to his room at the Weary Traveler Inn and slid the bolt, the mundane space once again becoming his workshop. The brief conflict outside was a simple application of a mastered principle; now it was time to continue the primary project.
The rest of his pill satchels materialized from his storage, landing with soft thuds on the wooden floor. He was at the peak of the Qi Gathering Realm, his dantian a stable vortex of liquid Qi. For the vast majority of cultivators, the next step would be a long, careful process of polishing this foundation, slowly coaxing it toward a qualitative change over months or years. Wei Lian had neither the time nor the inclination for such a delicate approach.
He dispensed with handfuls. Efficiency was paramount.
Untying the drawstring of the next satchel, he lifted the entire bag and poured the stream of several hundred Perfect-Purity Qi Accumulation Pills into his mouth, swallowing the massive dose in a single motion.
An overwhelming influx of spiritual energy flooded his system. While destructive for anyone else, his consciousness directed the flow with the precision of a master engineer. The energy was channeled directly into the spinning vortex in his dantian. The vortex, already at its operational limit, was forced to accelerate under the immense pressure, spinning faster and compressing inward upon itself.
At the very center of the vortex, the liquid Qi, subjected to immense force, reached a critical point and underwent a phase shift. It crystallized. A single, solid seed of condensed energy formed where before there was only motion. This was the first step.
Wei Lian didn't pause. He opened the next satchel and repeated the process. The crystalline seed, fed by a continuous stream of pure, refined energy, began to grow. It consumed the compressed liquid Qi around it, expanding not as a chaotic mass but as an orderly, solid structure. Layer by layer, the swirling liquid was converted into a stable, solid platform at the base of his dantian.
He worked through the night, consuming the remaining pills with methodical resolve. The process was direct and brutal: ingest fuel, direct energy, force compression, build structure. With the final satchel consumed, the last of the liquid Qi was absorbed into the growing foundation. With a final, deep internal resonance, the structure settled, its form complete. The process was finished.
Foundation Establishment Realm.
The chaotic motion in his dantian ceased. Where a swirling vortex of liquid had been, there now rested a simple, solid, circular dais of crystalline Qi. It was a permanent fixture, an internal generator. From its surface, a steady, gentle stream of a new, more potent form of spiritual energy began to flow, circulating through his meridians. He no longer needed to gather Qi from the outside world for basic circulation; his foundation now produced it.
A thin, dark grey haze, smelling faintly acrid, filled the room. These were the final, deep-seated impurities expelled from his body during the breakthrough. His skin was now clean and smooth, his body felt stronger and more resilient. The change was tangible, practical.
His spiritual sense, which had previously been limited to the inn and its immediate surroundings, now expanded with ease. He could perceive the layout of the entire city, tracking the movements of the night watch and the flow of energy through the earth itself. It was a significant upgrade in range and clarity.
He stood up, his new body feeling more robust, his power more stable. The empty pill satchels lay discarded on the floor. He had successfully completed the first major transition of the cultivation path.
With his foundation firmly established, Wei Lian's perspective on cultivation resources shifted. The Perfect-Purity Qi Accumulation Pills that had been instrumental to his rise were now useless for his personal advancement. Their spiritual energy was a drop in the ocean compared to the output of his new internal altar. However, they were far from worthless. For his System, they were prime gift fodder, a currency to be exchanged for far greater rewards.
He made his way back to the commercial district, this time seeking out the largest and most reputable apothecary in the city: the Thousand Treasures Pavilion. The air inside was clean and fragrant with the scent of hundreds of carefully categorized medicinal herbs. Pills were not sold from dusty shelves here, but displayed in glowing jade bottles behind reinforced glass counters.
A sharp-eyed man in manager's robes, whose own cultivation was at the half-step Foundation Establishment realm, approached him with a professional smile. "Welcome, esteemed cultivator. How may the Thousand Treasures Pavilion assist you today?"
Wei Lian's own Foundation Establishment cultivation was now palpable, a quiet pressure that commanded respect. "I wish to purchase one hundred Qi Accumulation Pills," he stated.
The manager's professional smile widened. This was a significant, clean order. "An excellent choice, sir. They are of standard quality, perfect for disciples in the early stages. That will be two hundred gold pieces."
Wei Lian nodded, producing a heavy pouch and counting out the exact sum onto the polished wood counter. The transaction was smooth and effortless. The manager personally retrieved the pills, neatly packing them into a sturdy wooden box lined with silk.
"A pleasure doing business with you," the manager said with a respectful bow.
Wei Lian accepted the box and, with a touch, it vanished into his System Storage. He gave the manager a slight nod and walked out of the pavilion.
Walking through the busy streets, he contemplated the next step. He now possessed one hundred "gifts." The logistical problem immediately became apparent. He couldn't simply stand on a street corner and hand out items worth two gold a piece. A single pill represented weeks or even months of wages for a common laborer. Giving them away freely would attract a mob, invite trouble from opportunistic thieves, and draw the unwanted attention of the city guard and other cultivators. It was an inefficient, chaotic, and dangerous method of distribution.
Even this relatively small batch of one hundred pills presented a challenge. And if he planned to do this on a larger scale in the future, he needed a proper system. He required a structured, legitimate way to disperse resources to a large pool of low-level cultivators, where the act of giving was expected and unremarkable.
His thoughts turned to the major powers that governed the territories beyond the city. A clan was too insular. A mercenary company, too transient.
The solution became clear. A sect.
A cultivation sect was the perfect distribution mechanism. It contained a built-in population of hundreds, if not thousands, of Qi Gathering disciples, all desperate for the very resources he now possessed. Within a sect's framework, distributing pills could be framed as rewards for sect missions, payment for services rendered, incentives for training progress, or simply a contribution to one's juniors. It provided a veneer of legitimacy that would allow him to disperse his "gift fodder" efficiently and reap the System's rewards without raising undue suspicion.
Joining a sect was not about finding a master or seeking protection. For Wei Lian, it was a purely utilitarian decision. A sect was a resource farm, and he would be the farmer. His path was now clear: find a suitable sect and become a member.
The city buzzed with a new energy. Wei Lian, now accustomed to the subtle flows of spiritual power, could feel it in the air—a thrum of anticipation and ambition. Following the dense streams of people, he arrived at the city's central square, which had been transformed into a massive, open-air recruitment fair.
Enormous banners, each embroidered with a magnificent insignia, flapped in the breeze: the crossed blades of the Azure Sword Sect, the golden mountain of the Iron Shield Bastion, the serene lotus of the Jade Spring Convent. These were the regional branches of the continent's legendary Great 8 Sects, the pillars of the righteous path.
Before each banner was a long line of hopeful children and anxious parents. Stern-faced examiners sat at simple wooden tables, their eyes holding a dispassionate light. One by one, children would step forward, place a hand on a glowing crystal orb, and await their verdict.
"Mortal grade talent. Rejected."
"Low-Spirit Root. Rejected."
"Mid-Spirit Root, Earth affinity. Pass. Proceed to the next station."
Through the crowd, Wei Lian heard the monotonic litany of judgment. "Rejected. Rejected. Good, Wood affinity. Welcome to the Green Valley Sect. Rejected." It was a human conveyor belt, sorting the masses, a numbers game where only a tiny fraction would be deemed worthy of even starting the long road of cultivation.
This spectacle held no interest for Wei Lian. He was not a child seeking a first chance. His gaze drifted past the lines of novices to a smaller, less crowded table set to the side of the Serene Cloud Palace's main booth. It wasn't for children. A sign on the table advertised a different path of entry.
He navigated the crowd, his Foundation Establishment aura creating a small, parting wake around him that went largely unnoticed in the chaos. He picked up a flyer from the side table.
Serene Cloud Palace - Special Recruitment Tournament
Do you seek to prove your strength among your peers? Do you wish to bypass the standard Outer Sect initiation and enter as a prospective Inner Disciple?
One month from today, the Serene Cloud Palace will host a tournament for all unaffiliated cultivators.
Requirements: Peak Qi Gathering Realm (9th Level) or Foundation Establishment Realm (1st Level). Under the age of 25.
Rewards: Top 10 finalists will be granted Inner Sect status and receive a generous resource stipend.
This was the mechanism he sought. A merit-based entry that would bypass the grunt work of being a new Outer Sect disciple and place him directly among cultivators who would appreciate—and be worthy gift recipients of—his resources.
He folded the flyer and tucked it away. Ignoring the background noise of crushed dreams and budding hopes, he turned and left the square. He had one month to wait. Idleness was inefficiency.
He made his way to a more specialized corner of the market district, a shop called "The Alchemist's Crucible." It was a store dedicated entirely to the art of pill-making. Rather than buying more pills, however, he went to the section dedicated to books and manuals. He was going to learn to make his own gift fodder.
He methodically browsed the shelves, his perfect memory allowing him to skim the contents of entire books in moments to assess their value. He selected seven foundational texts.
Herbalist's Primer
Principles of the Cultivator's Flame
Qi Infusion and Flow Control
Compendium of Mortal-Grade Ingredients
Spiritual Plant Catalogue, Vol. 1
Analysis of Pill Impurities and Purification
Introduction to Cauldron Theory
After paying the shopkeeper a hefty sum in gold, he left with his new library. He returned to the quiet solitude of his inn room, an array of new knowledge at his fingertips. The tournament was in a month. It was more than enough time.