Chapter 49: Pill Refining and the Auction Bait

Yan Zhichuan felt incredibly guilty.

Why was Zhan Yujie so perceptive? And what was up with the Heavenly Dao System? Was this its idea of “impressive”? Yan Zhichuan cursed the system inwardly for being useless.

The Heavenly Dao System curled into a little white ball. “No evidence means it didn’t happen. Just deny it.”

Yan Zhichuan let out a couple of pitiful whines. She lifted her gaze and met Zhan Yujie’s sharp stare. Her heart pounded wildly, as if it might leap from her chest. Unable to sit still, she grabbed Zhan Yujie’s sleeve and propped herself up. “Can you steal sword moves? Everything needs evidence! Senior Sister, how can you slander me without proof?”

Zhan Yujie had only been guessing.

Even as she voiced it, she found it absurd herself. Replicating sword forms was simple enough, but simulating sword qi and sword intent? That wasn’t so easy. Everyone comprehended the Dao differently, so each stance carried unique variations. Sword Talismans could record sword qi, and she’d initially thought her master had recorded them for Yan Zhichuan. But on second thought, problems abounded—some forms she hadn’t even practiced in front of her master.

Her words had barely landed when Yan Zhichuan’s retorts came rapid-fire like a barrage of bullets. Flushed beet red, she looked like a cute little beast with its tail stepped on. Zhan Yujie knew she should drop the topic, but seeing Yan Zhichuan’s expression, she revealed a faint smile and said leisurely, “Junior Sister, why are you in such a hurry?”

Yan Zhichuan: “…” She puffed her cheeks. “I’m not in a hurry!” She gripped Zhan Yujie’s sleeve with all her strength. With a sharp rip, she tore off the wide sleeve robe entirely.

Zhan Yujie lowered her gaze, looking at Yan Zhichuan in bewilderment.

The flush on Yan Zhichuan’s face deepened, a mix of shame and irritation. She dropped the hot potato of a torn sleeve and grabbed Zhan Yujie’s arm instead, gritting her teeth. “I didn’t!”

Zhan Yujie pressed her lips together. Stumbling from the yank, she steadied herself by kneeling on the couch. She glanced at her reddened wrist and softened her tone. “Alright, alright. You’re not in a hurry.”

At Zhan Yujie’s concession, Yan Zhichuan’s emotions swelled. She clung tightly, refusing to let go, and ground her teeth. “You’re just brushing me off!”

Zhan Yujie exercised patience. “So what does Junior Sister want?” She lifted her eyes, staring intently at Yan Zhichuan. They were very close—the red hair ribbon mingled with sleek black locks, brushing Yan Zhichuan’s face. Yan Zhichuan blanked out for a moment. Only after several breaths did her dazed gaze focus on the teardrop-shaped ornament on Zhan Yujie’s forehead.

I want to touch it.

Yan Zhichuan swallowed. She released Zhan Yujie and hid her hands behind her back. She scooted backward a bit and mumbled, “Anyway, I didn’t.”

Zhan Yujie exhaled heavily. She straightened the wrinkles at her collar, then her gaze fell on the torn sleeve. She fell silent for a long moment before smiling nonchalantly and changing the subject. “Master and the others are investigating the Yingzhou Island matter.”

Yan Zhichuan mumbled an “oh” and glanced at Zhan Yujie, sensing something off but quickly looking away. “What about those people brought back from Yingzhou Island? They weren’t sent to Immortal City, right? A good number of them are Demon Cultivators disguised as mortals!”

“They’re still in Nine Abyss.” Zhan Yujie tugged at her lips. That ledger listed a string of names. Others might not know, but the sect leader had said it—penned by Yan Zhichuan, so it was her forgery. Using it as evidence was too flimsy. Some suggested executing everyone who’d received the “empowerment” to eliminate future threats. But no flaws were found on those people; they seemed like innocent mortals. Who could bear to slaughter civilians? And if it was wrongful killing, how to repay that karma?

“What about the Foundation Establishment Pills?” Yan Zhichuan pressed. If the pills ended up with Demon Sect cultivators, Nine Abyss Sect was innocent—the suspects were in Miracle Hand Sect, after all. Even Zhao Pingchuan had said so.

“No word yet from Miracle Hand Sect.” Zhan Yujie shook her head.

Yan Zhichuan tsked and sighed.

She grabbed Little Fat Chirp and kneaded it thoroughly, muttering inwardly, Those are Demon Cultivators—their bodies overtaken. How do they leave no traces? Can’t just sneak around feeding them Demon Disguise Pills one by one. How many pills would that take to refine?

The Heavenly Dao System stayed silent; it only handled Zhan Yujie’s fate line and didn’t know every detail.

Yan Zhichuan sighed. “Hidden so well.”

What were these Xuanmen cultivators doing? Letting erosion spread like this—full of holes.

On the Heaven-Penetrating Treasure Mirror, cultivators traded barbs about Demon Cultivators, occasionally mentioning Yingzhou Island.

The cleanup was handled by major sects; no need for others to worry.

The atmosphere in Nine Abyss Sect grew heavy.

Besides Nine Abyss’s Cave Heaven True Persons, Fang Zhichun from Miracle Hand Sect was there too.

She’d come for the Subdue Demon Spirit Grass but got held up by Fang Zhiyi, researching the Demon Disguise Pill day and night.

Without the Yingzhou Island news, she’d probably still be at the pill furnace.

“The Foundation Establishment Pill formula is incomplete. Has anyone in Miracle Hand Sect studied it?” Fang Zhiyi crossed her arms, her brows furrowed deeply.

Fang Zhichun sighed. “Countless. Medical cultivators love tinkering with remnant formulas. I spent time on it myself, but got nowhere.” She paused, then asked, “Was what the Demon Cultivators got really Foundation Establishment Pills? Yan Zhichuan has pill-refining talent, sure, but she’s young. How could a lost formula reappear? Maybe they misidentified it?”

“It forces open meridians, letting rootless mortals enter the Dao. The effects are discounted, but compared to records, the Yingzhou Island ones were much weaker—likely not fully mastered.” Fang Zhiyi had examined the “empowered” children brought back from Yingzhou Island.

Yan Jizhi rubbed her forehead, head aching.

If the pills leaked unintentionally, fine. But if colluding with Demon Cultivators…

If that person was a high-realm True Person from Miracle Hand Sect, things were dire.

Couldn’t confront directly lest they alert the snake. So, she borrowed Fang Zhichun’s hand to inquire about Foundation Establishment Pill matters in Miracle Hand Sect.

“Maybe lure the snake out of its hole?” Yan Jizhi murmured after a pause.

After discussion, people filed out of the hall. Only Fang Zhiyi and Zhong Zhanxi remained.

“You’re planning to have Little Chi make a move?” Fang Zhiyi watched Yan Jizhi, guessing her intent.

Yan Jizhi nodded. “She should be able to refine perfect Foundation Establishment Pills.”

Fang Zhiyi frowned. “Yingzhou Island isn’t fully resolved. Will the Demon Cultivators bite?”

Zhong Zhanxi glanced at Fang Zhiyi with a sly smile. “Then change tactics. It doesn’t have to succeed this time. If Demon Cultivators aren’t tempted, won’t Miracle Hand Sect’s medical cultivators be?” Fundamental Dao principles: whoever researched the Foundation Establishment Pill, unsatisfied, would hit a “sticking point.” Unresolved, their cultivation couldn’t advance.

Fang Zhiyi paused, then didn’t object. Moments later, she asked, “What about that person linked to Demon Cultivators? What did she say?”

“Knows little.” Zhong Zhanxi’s expression cooled. “Zhao Pingchuan probably kept her in the dark.”

They meant Zhao Yulu. After Zhan Yujie returned, she’d recounted the “Sword Bone” matter fully. She’d thought it mere familial indifference, but Zhao Pingchuan harbored malicious intent. Zhao Pingchuan’s death was self-inflicted. As for Zhao Yulu, unable to cultivate due to her body, forcing the path now would likely shorten her mortal lifespan.

Wonder pills might extend it, but no point.

Keeping her in Nine Abyss prevented exploitation or vengeful slander against Yujie.

“Turbulent times.” Fang Zhiyi frowned.

“Just the beginning.” Yan Jizhi covered a yawn, eyes narrowing. “The Profound Heaven Immortal Barrier incident eighteen years ago was merely the prelude.”

Days later.

Yan Zhichuan, lounging in her cave abode reading a storybook, received a new task.

Her master wanted her to refine Foundation Establishment Pills.

She was already at Golden Core. What for?

Yan Zhichuan flipped through the Shennong Hundred Medicines Scripture and found the formula.

No extinct herbs, but the spirit plants were hard to source.

Practicing in the system’s Silent Land used no real herbs, but couldn’t this count as “losses”?

She tentatively messaged Medicine Peak for a bunch of relevant and irrelevant spirit plants, bracing to haggle. But Medicine Peak was refreshingly straightforward—packed and delivered to her cave without demanding Pill Jades.

Yan Zhichuan: “!”

She tossed the storybook to the Heavenly Dao System to read aloud, multitasking to quickly refine upgraded Dragon Blood Pills to enhance her physique.

Research Foundation Establishment Pills in Silent Land, then refine Dragon Blood Pills outside—perfect.

The downside: when Master’s Crane Daoist came probing, Yan Zhichuan had no pills to show.

She endured its disdainful glare as it flapped away.

Yan Zhichuan: “…”

Half a month later, having made full use of everything, the utterly exhausted Yan Zhichuan lay on Cloudy, twitching a finger to message Yan Jizhi: “Master, it’s done.”

Yan Jizhi: “Good.”

Yan Zhichuan’s mind blanked, dozing to the system’s narration.

The Heavenly Dao System gnashed, “I’m reporting you for slacking!”

Yan Zhichuan rolled over, ignoring it.

But her respite didn’t last.

A sword light streaked like a rainbow tearing the firmament, landing steadily in her courtyard.

Amid the sword’s hum, Yan Zhichuan lazily cracked an eyelid. Zhan Yujie’s projection hovered nearby.

Since Zhan Yujie noticed the sword move anomaly last time, she’d holed up refining pills. Quite a while without seeing her—not even messages on the Heaven-Penetrating Treasure Mirror.

She’d thought Zhan Yujie was mad, but now she looked normal again—the serene bodhisattva senior sister she knew.

Zhan Yujie gazed at Yan Zhichuan with endless patience, nonchalant as if the suspicion never happened.

Her features serene, her voice gentle as spring breeze: “Junior Sister, time to depart.”

Yan Zhichuan: “?” Where to? Before she could reply, Zhan Yujie bundled her—cloud and all—onto the Cloud Boat.

Zhan Yujie glanced at the near-comatose Yan Zhichuan and explained warmly, “To the Nine Clouds Pavilion black market—to auction the Foundation Establishment Pill.”

The True Persons wanted to fish out Demon Cultivators or the Daoist researching it. Couldn’t say it to Miracle Hand Sect’s face, but most Nine Abyss True Persons believed that Daoist was already corrupted. Otherwise, why hide a successfully researched pill instead of publicizing per Miracle Hand Sect tradition?

“Auction?” Yan Zhichuan was drained, her response sluggish, words slurred.

Seeing her state, Zhan Yujie didn’t press. Plenty of time to rest before Nine Clouds Pavilion.

She instinctively raised her hand over Yan Zhichuan’s eyes, shielding her from the glaring sunlight on the Cloud Boat.

Yan Zhichuan blinked. Her long, curled lashes brushed Zhan Yujie’s palm like feathers.

Her mind was mush, story plots all jumbled. Before sorting it, she grabbed Zhan Yujie’s wrist. “Senior Sister, I’m just sleepy, not dead. No need to close my eyes.”

Zhan Yujie drew a deep breath: “…”

She shot Yan Zhichuan a deadpan glare and turned toward the cabin.