Qi Fan brought the pill closer once more, narrowing his eyes as he inspected the petal-like insignia etched faintly on the pill's surface, the unmistakable seal of the Calm Pill Pavilion.
Tsk.
A sharp click of his tongue broke the silence.
He lowered the pill and fixed his gaze on Zheng Xie, the air between them suddenly turning heavier, like mist before a storm.
His voice, though calm, was laced with irritation. "So? What are you trying to prove, lad? Showing me these… what's your angle?" His tone deepened. "Is your so-called business proposal nothing more than veiled blackmail? If you think this kind of bluff will work on me, then you're better off walking back out that door. Don't test how long I can keep my temper in check."
Zheng Xie didn't flinch. He met Qi Fan's words with a relaxed smile, leaning back in his chair as though he'd just been complimented. "Blackmail? No, Patriarch, you misunderstand me." He gestured lightly, his voice polite. "I'm simply here to show you the face of your own people."
His smile grew wider, eyes glinting like drawn blades. "Do you know how I came across these? I found them mixed in with your 'Sky Assimilation Pills.' Sold by a merchant associated with your Pavilion. And when I examined them... these little abominations were tucked right in the middle. Disguised, waiting to be sold and consumed."
Qi Fan's brows twitched. His expression remained firm, but a faint ripple of unease stirred in his eyes.
"I see…" he said quietly. He looked down at the open pouch once more before letting out a long sigh. "So, you are here to blackmail me after all. How dull. Go on then—name your price. Let's get to the point."
Zheng Xie chuckled faintly, but his voice was colder now. "Ah, there it is. Straight to business. So eager to clean up your mess."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I'm not here for money. Nor am I here for some rare treasure to enhance my spiritual roots—though you clearly assume I am. Is that what you'd offer me to keep this quiet?"
Qi Fan frowned. "Isn't that your goal?" he said flatly. "Spiritual root enhancement? A higher grade body, perhaps? Let me save you the trouble, boy. You already possess a root—though mediocre, it exists. You cannot replace a living root with another unless the original was never there to begin with. That rule is older than even I am. Whatever dreams of miraculous rebirth you have… they're a lie."
Zheng Xie's expression dropped.
The smile faded. His face hardened.
And for the first time in their conversation, a flicker of genuine offense burned behind his gaze.
"Are you trying to bribe a member of the Zheng family?" he asked softly, voice low, heavy. "I didn't expect that from you. You're known as a kind, wise elder… the benevolent alchemist who rose above sect politics to help the world. Yet here you are. Shielding soul cultivators under your roof."
Qi Fan's eyes narrowed. His hands calmly folded on the table as he spoke with an eerie solemnity. "Whether they have chosen a dark path or not… they are still my people. They have studied beside me, learned from me, served the Pavilion. They believed in me. I have guided them for years. You expect me to abandon them like vermin?"
His voice deepened.
"I've done more to help the masses than most of the so-called 'righteous' families have done in their entire existence. So what if I look away, just once?"
Zheng Xie said nothing for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"I understand," he murmured. "Then allow me to propose a different solution."
He reached into his spatial ring once more—and withdrew another pouch. He set it gently on the table. This time, the pouch was heavier. It made a dull sound when it touched the surface.
Qi Fan glanced at it, then back at Zheng Xie.
"What is this?"
"Three hundred pills," Zheng Xie replied simply. "All identical to the one you just examined."
Qi Fan's eyes narrowed. He didn't need to open the pouch—his spiritual sense already detected the faintly corrupt signature inside. Spirit Seizing Pills. All of them.
He didn't move. But a coldness bloomed in the air around him.
Zheng Xie met his gaze head-on. His voice quiet, but heavy. "Eat them all. Right now. And I'll leave. Your Pavilion will remain untouched. I won't speak of this to anyone. Your elders will continue their work. No one will ever know."
The words hung in the air like poison.
Qi Fan's lips tightened. His expression didn't falter—but his eyes, they darkened.
"You want to frame me," he said at last, his voice now entirely devoid of warmth. "You want to stain me with the mark of a soul cultivator. So that I lose everything. Is that your game, brat?"
His qi stirred faintly. The walls trembled.
Zheng Xie didn't blink. "You saw through it faster than I expected. I had hoped you'd eat a few first before realizing… but I suppose that was too ambitious of me. You know your pills far too well. I guess age does come with wisdom."
Qi Fan let out a dry scoff. "And you are still just a seedling trying to play in storms."
Zheng Xie gave a faint nod. "Perhaps. But every storm starts as a whisper."
Then, his eyes turned to steel. His voice sharpened.
"In that case… how about this instead?"
He slowly stood, arms crossed behind his back.
"If you won't eat the pills, then I'll do something else. I'll kill every last elder in your Pavilion. One by one. Every soul cultivator you've shielded, every alchemist you've turned a blind eye to. Their lives, for your pride. Will you eat the pills then, Qi Fan?"
The air inside the grand room turned cold.
Qi Fan didn't speak for several long moments. His face was unreadable, eyes locked onto Zheng Xie. But then, he let out a booming laugh.
"HAHAHAHA…!"
His voice echoed off the polished walls like thunder in a sealed chamber.
"Truly amusing, brat. You think you can harm—let alone kill—any member of my Pavilion while standing in front of me?" His eyes sharpened, tone dipped into a chilling sneer. "You, a mere Qi Condensation Realm cultivator? Hah… audacity indeed."
Zheng Xie merely offered a quiet smile, unfazed. Then, without a word, he slowly raised his right hand.
And—
Snap!
A sharp, crisp sound rang through the room. Clear. Echoing.
Qi Fan frowned. It was a simple gesture, meaningless on its own. But then—something cracked.
Inside the very walls of this chamber, where countless spirit slates were engraved and hidden—slates infused with the spiritual essence of every important disciple and elder under his care—one of them shattered.
Qi Fan's eyes narrowed.
Crack!
A second one. Another life-force, extinguished.
Qi Fan's eyes widened. His spiritual sense, deeply connected to those slates, sent a jolt of alarm down his spine. These weren't illusions or fakes—these were genuine soul-bound anchors breaking.
He looked at Zheng Xie, dumbfounded.
The boy snapped his fingers again.
Snap! Crack!
Another life vanished.
And with it, Qi Fan's composure.
The next moment, he blurred from where he stood, a streak of golden qi trailing behind him. In the blink of an eye, his hand had clutched Zheng Xie's throat and slammed him violently against the nearest wall. The room trembled from the impact.
Crack!
The boy's arm snapped like dry wood under the pressure of Qi Fan's wrath.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Qi Fan roared, his voice resounding like thunder. "HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?! STOP!!! I SAID STOP!!!"
Snap! Crack!
More slates shattered.
Twenty… twenty-two… twenty-five…
Qi Fan's breathing grew uneven. Sweat beaded on his temple. Each slate was a life. His people. His Pavilion.
Zheng Xie coughed blood. His body wracked in pain—his right arm bent at an unnatural angle. But even then, he gritted his teeth and endured it. Eyes red, voice hoarse, yet filled with quiet determination.
"If you kill me," he rasped, "my family… will investigate… every inch of this Pavilion. They'll… uncover everything."
Qi Fan's grip didn't loosen.
"And even if you kill me…" Zheng Xie gasped, blood dripping from his lips, "…every elder, every loyalist you've ever tried to protect… will die."
He chuckled weakly.
"Only I… can stop them from dying."
Qi Fan stared, unmoving. His killing intent burned so hot the air sizzled.
He could end this brat. Snap his neck and be done with it. He was Qi Fan. The revered patriarch of the Calm Pill Pavilion. A cultivator known across realms.
But he also understood leverage. And for all his power, he understood when he was cornered.
With a snarl, he hurled Zheng Xie across the room. The boy crashed into the table, splintering it on impact. Wood cracked. Blood spattered. Zheng Xie's body twitched in pain, but he forced himself to sit upright.
Qi Fan stood above him, eyes like molten gold. With a flick of his hand, the pouch of pills floated toward him. He glanced at it, then back at Zheng Xie with utter hatred.
A death sentence to any cultivator.
Qi Fan scoffed silently. 'So what? This old man isn't so weak as to be corrupted by trifles.'
He poured the pills into his mouth in one go.
As soon as they entered his body, the world seemed to shift.
BOOM.
An explosion of soul path energy erupted from his dantian like a volcano bursting forth. Invisible to the eyes, but blinding to spiritual sense—this wasn't mere leakage. This was full-blown awakening of soul energy.
If anyone else were watching, they'd have mistaken him for a powerful Soul Cultivator. His essence screamed of it.
Zheng Xie's eyes widened. Even in his battered state, he could sense the vast tide of soul energy exploding from Qi Fan.
But—
It didn't last.
Qi Fan—like a seasoned alchemist sealing poison—swallowed the energy whole. His cultivation base surged. His orthodox spiritual qi devoured the soul energy in waves, rapidly purging it as impurity.
Within seconds, the leak was gone. Vanished.
Qi Fan stood tall, expression unreadable.
He looked at Zheng Xie, then spat on the ground. "I won't heal you," he said coldly. "Crawl out of here. I've done what you wanted, so begone. And don't you ever let me see your face again, Zheng Xie."
The boy struggled to stand. Every movement caused spikes of pain to lance through his body. Bones groaned. Muscles screamed. But he stood.
Qi Fan turned away.
And then—
Zheng Xie spoke. Quiet. Icy.
"Qi Fan."
The patriarch stopped.
"Hit me. Propelling me out of the Pavilion."
Qi Fan's brow furrowed. 'What in the world…?'
Why would the brat ask that?
He turned, half curious, half irritated. But then—
WHOOOOM.
A monstrous surge of soul energy erupted from Zheng Xie. It was wild, untempered, and dense—more intense than before. Not from pills. Not from a technique. It came from him.
Qi Fan's eyes widened. 'This kid—he's…?!'
His body reacted before his mind could process. His palm condensed pure qi and struck.
BANG!
A thunderous blow landed square on Zheng Xie's chest.
CRASH!
His body flew like a meteor, blasting straight through the Pavilion's reinforced wall. Bricks shattered. Dust rose in thick clouds. Screams echoed outside as disciples scattered to avoid the flying body.
Qi Fan stood frozen.
His palm still outstretched. Breathing heavy. His face—grim.
Because in that final moment… he realized the truth:
Zheng Xie controlled his body.
And now the entire sect would see him bloodied, broken… flung from the Pavilion.
Whatever story Zheng Xie planned to weave—Qi Fan had just become the villain in it.
…
Zheng Xie lay sprawled outside the Calm Pill Pavilion, half-conscious, blood trickling down his lips. Dust clung to his torn robes, and his right arm dangled uselessly at his side.
A crowd had already gathered, some drawn by the loud crash, others by sheer curiosity at the spectacle unfolding before them.
The first few who recognized him gasped in shock.
"Isn't that… Zheng Xie? The second son of the Zheng family?"
Their murmurs quickly snowballed into a buzz of speculation. Dozens of heads turned toward the gaping hole high on the Pavilion wall—right where Zheng Xie had been launched from.
And standing behind it, gazing down like a ghost, was none other than Patriarch Qi Fan.
"He was thrown from there? Wait, you mean Qi Fan attacked him?"
"But why? That makes no sense! Why would the patriarch strike a Zheng family member?"
"You idiots, stop chattering and help me stabilize him!" a quick-witted cultivator snapped, kneeling beside Zheng Xie. He pressed his palm to Zheng's chest, channeling his qi. "Whether it was Qi Fan or someone else, we need to treat his injuries! And if Qi Fan would have seriously attacked him, he wouldn't have survived."
Someone else retorted, "But think about it—Zheng Xie's the son of a prominent noble family. Even if Qi Fan did seriously strike him, wouldn't he have some life-saving treasures on him? That could've been what kept him from dying instantly."
"That... actually makes sense."
"Exactly. The fact that he's nearly breathing means this wasn't just a friendly spar. It had to be serious. Something happened."
They all looked back toward the shattered Pavilion wall. Qi Fan remained there, unmoving. Silent. Watching.
"Hey… look! In the sky!"
Someone pointed upward. A flock of spirit swans and jade-carved flying ships approached rapidly from the horizon, their banners fluttering in the wind. Qi-enhanced robes glistened with family emblems—each one more ancient and noble than the last.
"Those… those are the Chu family's people!"
"Wait, the Du family too?! And the Xuan family?!"
"The entire Verdant Lotus Plain is watching now…"
One man exhaled sharply. "Heh, I just came to buy pills. I didn't expect to witness a civil war."
Another whispered, "I hope I get my order before they shut the Pavilion down. Only they sell pills so cheap."
"You're a fool," someone rebuked. "Have you not heard the rumors? People have died after consuming those very pills."
"That's just propaganda spread by rival alchemists! The Calm Pill Pavilion is a righteous sect. They don't dabble in poison."
As speculation spread like wildfire, something far more sinister occurred unseen by the weaker cultivators. High above, on the balcony of the Pavilion, Qi Fan raised his hand. His palm glowed faintly.
Blue spectral qi condensed around his fingers. Not orthodox energy—but something denser, colder. Soul energy. And it was aimed directly at Zheng Xie.
With a flick, the spectral thread darted down toward the injured youth.
But before it could touch him—
CLANG!
A shimmering golden energy intercepted the thread, cutting it in half mid-air. The soul energy dispersed into a harmless mist.
Standing before Zheng Xie was a man in flowing white robes adorned with the Chu family crest. His presence was unignorable—calm, yet impossibly heavy. His eyes scanned Zheng Xie, then flicked up toward Qi Fan.
"Did Qi Fan attack you?" he asked calmly, but his tone held a glacial edge.
Zheng Xie coughed again, spitting out blood. He nodded weakly, and whispered, "Let's talk… somewhere private."
The Chu family cultivator nodded, raising a single finger. The next moment, he and Zheng Xie vanished from the public eye in a ripple of qi.
Gasps echoed around them. Onlookers were left dumbfounded. Silence stretched, only interrupted by whispers.
Above, back in the shattered Pavilion, Qi Fan stood still, but his hands trembled faintly behind his back. Sweat dripped from his temples as he clutched the rail.
'That damned brat… He forced me to use soul path techniques. How can he control my body like this!!!' His jaw clenched.
Even worse, soul energy had begun leaking from his dantian. He was suppressing it with everything he had, but the leakage was subtle… and still present.
To his horror, he knew that anyone from the elite family would notice. The Chu family was just the beginning.
Then—more pressure descended.
Qi Fan looked up to see airships appearing one after another. Floating banners unfurled, displaying the emblems of the Xuan, Du, and finally, the Zheng family.
The major powers of the Verdant Lotus Plain… all here.
Qi Fan forced himself to stay calm. 'I can still explain this. I'm a senior, a respected figure. They won't take a child's word over mine. I must remain composed.'
And then—
A voice spoke.
A voice like distant thunder. Cold. Measured and Absolute.
"Qi Fan."
He froze.
The voice didn't come from any of the approaching ships.
It came from within the Pavilion.
Turning slowly, Qi Fan's eyes widened as a man emerged from the darkness of the inner chamber.
Draped in dark jade robes, eyes like glaciers and hair streaked with silver—Chu Yun, patriarch of the Chu family, had arrived.
Qi Fan's breath caught in his throat.
"You have not only cultivated the soul path in secret," Chu Yun said, each word echoing across the chamber like a blade scraping stone, "but also attempted to kill your own Pavilion's disciple. Worse, you attacked the second son of the Zheng family—unprovoked—and in public no less."
Qi Fan tried to speak. But Chu Yun did not stop.
"You sold Spirit Seizing Pills under the guise of Sky Assimilation Pill, hiding corruption within righteousness. And when confronted by one who simply sought truth, you raised your hand to silence him."
He took a step forward.
"You did not merely injure Zheng Xie. You tried to frame him as a soul cultivator and when he didn't comply, you attacked him with intent to kill."
Chu Yun's gaze sharpened.
"Daoist Qi Fan, you are going to be detained for the crime of cultivating the soul path and ruining the image of righteousness in our Verdant Lotus Plain."
Qi Fan's heart sank.
Every word the Chu patriarch said struck deeper than the last. And around him, the airships continued to arrive—each representing a family.
Qi Fan finally realized—
Zheng Xie never wanted to ruin the Calm Pill Pavilion.
He only ever wanted to destroy him.
From this day onward his life was over…