The bullying had gone too far that day. Haotian returned to the Alchemy Hall to find his entire workbench overturned, herbs scattered and frozen into the snow, precious pills ruined. He calmly began to clean—when a sudden wave of killing intent swept across him.
Elder Bai moved first. His sleeve flicked, and a whip of icy spiritual energy lashed toward Haotian with lethal force.
Without thinking, Haotian's body moved. He slid across the snow-slick floor, breath steady, feet silent, as the whip cracked inches from his shoulder.
"Elder Bai…?!" Haotian's voice was controlled, but his heart was pounding.
But the old man gave no answer, only pressed forward. His frost chi condensed into jagged blades that flew like shards of winter glass. Haotian twisted through the gaps, ducking low, spinning aside, each movement fluid, precise. He saw dozens of openings where his fist, palm, or foot could have struck the elder down—but he did not.
Then another voice shouted:
"Bai! What are you doing!?"
It was Elder Hong, a stern man with heavy brows, rushing from the corridor. His eyes widened at the sight of Bai attacking a disciple. Without hesitation, Hong roared and lunged, frost spear thrusting straight at Haotian.
Bai's cold voice cut through the hall. "He broke sect rules. Help me subdue him!"
Conflicted, but bound by order, Elder Hong joined the assault.
Now Haotian was caught between two masters of the peak Core Condensation realm. Attacks flew from both sides—palms of frozen chi, shards of crystalline ice, sweeping spear strikes.
Haotian weaved between them like a gusting squall. His body bent at impossible angles, his steps carried him just past the point of death. For the first time, his arms raised—not to strike, but to block. His forearm clashed against Elder Hong's spear, his palm deflected Bai's frost palm. Sparks of icy energy snapped against his skin.
The two elders pressed harder, pushing him into a storm of blows. Haotian twisted, spun, backflipped, retreating with perfect timing—until at last he leapt back to a safe distance, his chest rising and falling.
Then—he dropped into a bow.
"Elder Bai… Elder Hong…" His voice cracked, as though frantic. "Why would you suddenly attack me? And… what sect rules have I broken?"
The hall went silent. Elder Hong's spear lowered slightly, confusion flashing across his face. But Elder Bai only raised a hand, stopping Hong.
Then Bai's eyes narrowed, sharp as blades.
"You are at initial Core Condensation, yet you evaded both of our combined strikes—without taking a single wound." His voice was low, measured, carrying to every corner of the hall. "We are at peak Core Condensation. Your combat ability… is far beyond even ours together."
His hand curled behind his back. His stare pierced straight into Haotian's heart.
"Tell me, boy… who are you really?"
The Alchemy Hall was deathly silent. Disciples who had gathered outside, drawn by the commotion, now pressed against the windows, their eyes wide. Elder Bai's question hung heavy in the air, sharp as the edge of a sword.
Who are you really?
Haotian straightened from his bow, his face pale with a careful touch of fear. He cupped his hands again, voice steady but humble:
"Disciple Haotian… is only that—an ordinary disciple. I dare not claim anything else."
Elder Hong frowned, his spear lowering further. "Nonsense. Your movements—your instincts—no outer disciple fights like that. Not even our inner disciples could last so long against the two of us."
Murmurs rose from the disciples watching.
"Is he… hiding his cultivation?"
"Impossible—he's only at initial Core Condensation…"
"Then how did he…?"
But Haotian only bowed deeper. "Elder Bai, Elder Hong… I am no more than I appear. I have simply… trained my body diligently, and studied what I could from the library. Perhaps luck favored me this time. I beg you, do not mistake this disciple for something he is not."
His words were humble, his expression calm—but his eyes lowered, hiding the depth within them.
Elder Bai's gaze did not soften. If anything, his sharp eyes narrowed further, as though trying to pierce through Haotian's calm facade. But the boy gave him nothing. No arrogance, no denial, only humility.
At last, Bai turned, his robes snapping with frost chi as he stepped back. "Luck…? No. There is no such thing as luck in battle."
Then he looked to Elder Hong. "But he insists he is nothing special. Let us… leave it for now."
Hong looked unconvinced, but he obeyed, lowering his spear completely.
Bai glanced back at Haotian one last time, the frost in his eyes replaced with something unreadable—interest, perhaps, or suspicion.
"Very well, Haotian. Continue as you are." His voice dropped, almost inaudible. "But one day, your mask will break."
With that, the elders departed, leaving Haotian alone in the hall, disciples whispering furiously around him.
Haotian exhaled slowly, bowing once more before quietly returning to his scattered herbs. His hands moved steadily as he cleaned the mess, as if nothing had happened at all.
But inside, his heart was calm and cold. I must not draw attention yet. The time will come—but not here. Not now.
That night, the Cold River Sect was still abuzz with whispers. In the outer disciple quarters, Haotian sat cross-legged, quietly circulating his breath. He ignored the jeers outside his room, the petty attempts of jealous disciples to provoke him. His mind was still on Elder Bai's piercing words.
A mask will break…
A faint chill passed over his chamber. A ripple of frost chi entered through the window, curling like mist. Haotian opened his eyes—sharp and alert.
"Disciple Haotian."
It was Elder Bai's voice, low and calm, yet it pressed against his heart like the weight of a mountain.
"Come to the Frost Pavilion. Alone."
The frost chi dispersed. Silence returned.
The Frost Pavilion stood atop one of the sect's smaller peaks, surrounded by frozen waterfalls that gleamed under the moonlight. Haotian walked slowly up the icy steps, his straw hat tilted low, his robe plain as ever.
Inside the pavilion, Elder Bai was waiting, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes glimmered like shards of ice in the moon's glow.
"You came," Bai said, voice even. "Good."
Haotian cupped his hands in salute. "This disciple dares not disobey, Elder."
Bai studied him in silence for a long time. The quiet was suffocating, broken only by the crack of ice shifting in the night air. Finally, the elder spoke.
"Your humility is commendable. But your movements… the way you controlled your breath today… that is not something learned by chance." His voice dropped, quiet but sharp. "You weaved through killing intent as if you had seen countless battles before. No outer disciple fights like that. Tell me—where does your training truly come from?"
Haotian lowered his eyes, his voice steady, "This disciple… has wandered much, Elder. I have seen danger, and trained hard to survive. Nothing more."
Bai's brow furrowed, unconvinced. But instead of pressing further, his expression softened ever so slightly.
"Very well. If you wish to keep your secrets, I will not force you. But hear me, boy—whatever you are hiding, keep it hidden well. This sect is not without its politics."
He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Those who envy you will not stop with childish tricks. One day, they will come for your life."
Haotian met his gaze, calm and unwavering. "This disciple understands."
Elder Bai studied him once more, then gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Good. Then remember this—I will be watching. Do not disappoint me."
With a wave of his sleeve, a frosty breeze pushed Haotian back toward the exit. The message was clear.
As Haotian descended the frozen steps, the moonlight gleaming against the snow, he kept his expression calm. But within, his thoughts swirled.
Elder Bai… sees too much. I must tread carefully here.
And yet, for the first time, Haotian sensed not just suspicion—but a spark of protection.
The days after that secret meeting passed in quiet rhythm.Haotian continued his calm, humble life: studying in the library, refining his alchemy, and keeping his presence low. But behind closed doors, Elder Bai began summoning him regularly.
In the Frost Pavilion, Bai lectured him on the fundamentals of ice pill refinement, spiritual resonance with herbs, and the sect's unique water-ice pathways. Haotian listened attentively, absorbing every word.
His learning speed was extraordinary.What Bai explained once, Haotian mastered immediately, repeating it flawlessly on the second attempt. When Bai demonstrated a new pill formation pattern, Haotian's golden-text memory silently recorded it and refined it with eerie precision.
At first, Bai was cautious, watching for arrogance. But instead, Haotian remained humble, bowing after each lesson, always thanking him earnestly. Day after day, Bai found himself warming. The boy was not only talented—he was respectful. Reliable. Worthy.
For the first time in years, Elder Bai began to feel pride in taking on a student.
But peace could not last forever.
One morning, Haotian returned from the library to find his quarters ransacked again. His bedding was cut to ribbons, his spare robe thrown in mud. A few disciples were lingering nearby, sneering openly.
The ringleader, Han Yexun, stepped forward, smirking."Still hiding behind your false humility, Haotian? What will you do without Elder Bai protecting you? Can you even stand on your own?"
Haotian bowed calmly, ignoring the mockery as always. "Senior brother, this disciple has no wish for conflict."
The other disciples laughed, throwing more insults. They shoved him, scattered his belongings across the courtyard, and one even reached for the alchemy pouch at his waist.
That was when the air grew cold.
A crushing frost chi descended from above, freezing the laughter in their throats. The courtyard turned deathly silent.
Elder Bai stood there, his robe flowing with icy authority, eyes narrowed to slits.
"Enough."
His voice cracked like thunder. He flicked his sleeve, and the disciple holding Haotian's pouch was slammed to the ground, coughing blood.
"You dare disgrace the sect with this behavior? To bully one of your own brothers like bandits in the street?"
Han Yexun stammered, paling. "E-Elder Bai, we were only—"
"Silence!" Bai's glare froze him in place. "Do you think I am blind? I have watched your petty schemes long enough. From this day forward—"
He stepped to Haotian's side, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Haotian is my student. Any who dare touch him again… will answer to me."
Gasps erupted from the disciples. The declaration was unmistakable: Elder Bai had formally taken Haotian under his protection.
Han Yexun's face twisted in fury, but he could only bow, trembling, his jealousy now burning hotter than ever.
Haotian had just left the Cold River Sect's library, a stack of mental notes tucked away in his golden text memory. His steps were quiet, deliberate, his straw hat angled to hide his expression.
From the base of the library steps, a familiar voice called out.
"Haotian."
He froze, then turned quickly, bowing with both hands cupped. "This disciple greets Elder Bai."
Bai's sharp eyes lingered on the young man's calm posture. "You come from the library again? Tell me, what occupies your studies so diligently?"
Haotian hesitated, then answered honestly, though humbly."This disciple has been reviewing texts on alchemy and formations. I… felt something was off about the Frostfire Pill Formation that Elder Bai previously demonstrated, so I sought to understand it better."
Bai's brow rose slightly. "Off? In what way?"
Haotian lowered his gaze, choosing his words carefully."This disciple is shallow in knowledge, but… when circulating the frost chi through the second pattern, the compression point shifts unevenly. The flame pressure dissipates, forcing instability. That was the first flaw. The second flaw lies in the herb placement—the Cold River Grass and Frostlotus stem are arranged too closely, causing their energies to clash prematurely. The third flaw…"
He paused, then bowed again. "Forgive this disciple. It may be presumptuous to speak more."
"Speak," Bai said, his tone sharp but curious.
Haotian exhaled softly. "The third flaw is subtler. The chi array itself—its node alignment leans against the central line of the cauldron, leaving the formation susceptible to collapse if the refiner wavers even slightly. These three… are only this disciple's humble observations."
For a long moment, silence fell. The icy wind rustled the flags above the library roof, but Bai said nothing. His eyes, however, gleamed.
At last, he whispered, almost to himself: "Three flaws…"
He straightened, his voice brisk. "Follow me."
The two descended toward the alchemy hall. Inside, Elder Bai set up a Frostfire Pill refinement cauldron. With his own hand, he recreated the formation Haotian had described.
"Watch closely."
He began the refinement, circulating his chi. At first the pill cauldron roared with balanced flame and frost. But as the sequence reached its second stage, the problems surfaced: the compression node wavered, frost and fire clashed unevenly, and the alignment threatened collapse. Elder Bai adjusted with his mastery, salvaging it, but the flaws were undeniable.
When he stopped, he looked back at Haotian.
"You… saw through all of this?"
Haotian bowed deeply. "This disciple only noticed inconsistencies after careful reading. It was no more than coincidence."
"Coincidence?" Bai's sharp laugh rang out, startling the other disciples nearby. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "No. Coincidence cannot pierce through the subtleties that even elders overlook. You…"
His eyes narrowed with appraisal. "You were born for the alchemy path."
That day, Elder Bai announced that Haotian would begin advanced personal training under his guidance. He took Haotian deeper into the alchemy hall's restricted chambers, where only elite disciples were usually allowed.
The whispers spread like wildfire.Why was an outer disciple being elevated? Why was Elder Bai granting him such recognition?
For Haotian, he remained calm, humble, and silent as always. But inside, he knew: Elder Bai had now fully accepted him—not just as a student of convenience, but as one worth investing in.
The Cold River Sect's alchemy hall blazed with activity. Pill cauldrons lined the chamber, disciples bustling as spiritual flames danced under copper and jade vessels. The annual Alchemy Gathering—where elders reviewed the disciples' progress—was a time of pride, rivalry, and ruthless judgment.
Elder Bai stood at the center, his robes pristine, his presence commanding silence. His sharp gaze swept across the disciples before he spoke:
"Today, each of you will display the results of your studies. Pills refined under the sect's methods, perfected by centuries of tradition."
The disciples bowed, excitement and tension trembling in their hands. One by one, they stepped forward to demonstrate: healing pills, frost resistance pills, and even rare frostlotus elixirs. Applause, murmurs, and critiques flowed.
Then Elder Bai's voice cut through the hall:
"Haotian. Step forward."
A ripple went through the disciples. That boy? The stray outer disciple? Elder Bai's pet project? Their smirks and disdain burned hotter than the flames of their cauldrons.
Haotian walked out calmly, bowing with perfect humility. "This disciple greets the elders."
"Show them what you showed me," Bai commanded, his tone sharp with suppressed excitement.
Haotian nodded, then placed his hands over the cauldron. With practiced focus, he wove a new alchemy formation—not the flawed Frostfire Pill pattern the sect had taught, but his own corrected version.
Thin golden lines of chi traced across the cauldron's surface, intersecting with precise balance. Unlike the older patterns, his array had no wasted currents, no unstable nodes. Fire and frost spiraled in harmony.
Gasps filled the chamber as disciples leaned forward. Even the skeptical elders furrowed their brows in surprise.
"His compression ratio…" one elder whispered."The Cold River Grass and Frostlotus aren't clashing at all," said another."Impossible. The Frostfire array has been studied for centuries!"
Haotian continued unfazed, circulating his chi with unshakable calm. The flames licked steady, the frost spread smooth, and within minutes, the cauldron pulsed with light. He opened it, revealing a tray of Frostfire Pills—every one of them gleaming with perfection, flawless cores shining like icy pearls.
The hall erupted.
Even the most talented inner disciples rarely achieved such uniform refinement.
Elder Bai's eyes burned with triumph. He stepped forward, his voice echoing:"Do you see now? This boy is no shadow clinging to the library. His insight corrects centuries of stagnation! His formations refine with efficiency none of you have ever touched! This is the future of Cold River Sect alchemy!"
The disciples seethed with jealousy, but none could refute what their eyes witnessed.
Haotian, however, bowed once more, his voice humble as always. "This disciple only stumbled upon adjustments through careful reading. It is not worth such praise."
But Elder Bai only laughed, loud and unrestrained, his pride impossible to conceal.
The day after the Alchemy Gathering, Cold River Sect was alive with rumors.Outer disciples whispered in the courtyards. Inner disciples spoke in hushed tones by the training grounds. Elders discussed with tight expressions behind closed doors.
"He corrected the Frostfire Pill array…""No, he perfected it.""That boy… who is he really?"
Though Haotian remained silent and humble, his demonstration had been burned into the sect's collective memory. No one could ignore him now.
Elder Bai knew this would happen. He watched from afar as disciples stared at Haotian with a mix of awe and jealousy. Rival elders, once dismissive of Bai's solitary student, now eyed him with suspicion. Some even approached Bai directly, their words polite but their tone cutting:
"Elder Bai, will you… share the method this disciple used? For the good of the sect, of course."
Bai only gave them a cold smile. "If you wish to learn, then study as he did. My student owes you nothing."
That defiance only fueled the whispers further.
Meanwhile, Haotian remained unshaken. He continued his daily study of the library, but this time his focus shifted. No longer satisfied with just formations, he began delving into runes—those archaic symbols that once enhanced weapons, armor, and artifacts. Few in Cold River Sect studied them seriously anymore; to most, runes were a dead art, too difficult and costly to apply.
Yet Haotian's mind worked differently.
When Elder Bai found him one evening sitting by a stack of rune manuscripts, the elder frowned. "Runes? What are you scheming now, boy?"
Haotian looked up with calm eyes and answered simply:"Elder Bai, I was thinking… if formations stabilize the cauldron and ingredients, what if runes could be applied directly to the pill itself? Not only would they enhance effects, but also allow weaker disciples to take stronger medicines without harm."
Bai froze. His brows knit tightly, but in his eyes flashed a spark of shock.
"Runes… on pills?" he muttered. "Impossible. Pills are too unstable a vessel. The moment chi-carved symbols touch them, they crumble."
Haotian shook his head. "Not if the rune is inscribed while the pill is still forming inside the cauldron. While the essence is still fluid and receptive."
For a long moment, Bai said nothing. The night air outside the library window howled with the northern winds. Finally, Elder Bai burst out laughing, a deep hearty laugh that startled the disciples outside.
"You… boy, you never cease to frighten me with your madness. And yet… perhaps it might work."
His eyes narrowed with a glint of excitement. "Fine. We will test this. If it succeeds, the Cold River Sect will no longer whisper about you—they will roar your name."
Haotian bowed deeply, his expression calm and deferential, though his mind was already racing with golden-text calculations.
The Alchemy Hall was sealed shut.Only Elder Bai and Haotian remained inside, the windows darkened by frosted screens, the air heavy with chi. Cauldrons glimmered faintly in the lamplight, their bronze frames etched with runes of stabilization.
Bai crossed his arms, voice gruff."Boy, I've lived longer than you can count winters. I've seen countless geniuses break their heads against rune theory. Pills are fragile, volatile. You think you can bind runes to their structure without destroying them?"
Haotian bowed respectfully, calm as always."I only ask to test it, Elder. If I fail, the loss is mine."
Bai snorted but gestured sharply. "Then show me. I'll watch."
Haotian took his place at the cauldron. His movements were steady, graceful, but utterly precise—every herb prepared, every measure exact. As the Frost Vein Grass and Coldscale Root simmered within the liquid chi, the cauldron pulsed with a faint blue glow.
Elder Bai observed in silence. So steady… like someone who's refined for decades.
Then came the crucial moment. As the pill began to condense inside the cauldron, Haotian's eyes sharpened. His fingers danced, weaving delicate rune seals mid-air. Golden script shimmered faintly, then sank into the chi mist around the forming pill.
Elder Bai leaned forward. "Impossible… he's inscribing before the shell forms."
The cauldron rattled violently. Normally, this would be the end—the pill collapsing into ashes. But Haotian pressed forward, guiding the runes with his will. His chi harmonized with the cauldron flame, stabilizing the formation even as the glowing rune lines fused into the pill.
BOOM.
A sudden burst of light filled the room. Bai nearly leapt forward—But as the mist cleared, there on the cauldron's surface rolled a single crystalline pill, its surface shimmering with faint rune-lines, like veins of light embedded within.
Haotian exhaled, beads of sweat forming on his brow. He carefully picked it up, presenting it with both hands.
"Elder Bai… this is the first attempt."
The old man took the pill, hands trembling. His senses probed it—then his eyes widened.
"…Not only stable," Bai whispered, "but enhanced. The medicinal potency increased by twenty percent… and the rune's effect… frost resistance."
He looked at Haotian as though seeing him for the first time.
"You… you really did it. You inscribed a rune onto a pill. Do you realize what this means?!"
Haotian bowed again, his tone modest."It means only that this disciple was lucky, Elder. But I believe it can be improved further."
Elder Bai laughed, the sound booming through the hall."Lucky? No, boy. This is genius. The sect will have no choice but to acknowledge you now!"
His eyes gleamed with pride, but also something sharper—worry. If the others find out… they'll fight to claim him. Or kill him.
He clutched the pill in one hand, his other falling heavy on Haotian's shoulder."From this moment, you're no longer just my student. You are my responsibility. Whatever storm this stirs… I'll face it with you."
Haotian looked up, calm as ever, though deep within he felt the weight of destiny tightening again.
For the next several days, the Alchemy Hall lay "closed for maintenance." Rumors spread among the disciples, but few dared to question Elder Bai's word. Behind those sealed doors, however, two figures worked in constant rhythm: master and disciple.
At the center, Haotian stood calm, sleeves rolled up, his hands weaving precise seals as ingredients danced into the cauldron. Elder Bai circled around him, sometimes barking corrections, other times scribbling frantic notes like a junior disciple himself.
The first rune-pill had been only a beginning.Now, they pursued refinement—testing different herbs, layering runes at various stages, pushing the fragile balance of chi and script further than anyone had dared.
"Hold the flame steadier—slower. That's it!" Bai barked.The cauldron roared, frost vapor spilling out in waves. Within, three pills condensed, their surfaces glowing faintly with etched symbols.
Haotian focused, pushing his chi into the runes. Almost… just a little more resonance.
CRACK.
One pill fractured instantly, scattering into powder. Another collapsed into mush. But the third survived, rolling smoothly into Bai's waiting palm.
The elder's eyes lit up."Ha! Two failures—but one success. And look at this one…" He examined the pill, runes glimmering faintly across its surface. "…This one carries not just frost resistance but a defensive shield effect. If a disciple swallowed it mid-battle, it would save their life!"
Haotian exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow. "But the stability is too fragile. A single mistake, and the pill collapses."
Bai nodded fiercely. "Which is why we keep testing. No one else must know—not yet."
Day bled into night. Weeks passed.
The cauldron bore witness to countless failures: explosions that rattled the sealed hall, piles of cracked pill fragments, blackened herbs. But amidst the ruins were jewels—more rune-pills, each stable, each unique.
Some carried elemental resistances.Others strengthened the body or accelerated chi recovery.One even emitted a faint aura of frost when held, as though reshaping the air around it.
Elder Bai's excitement grew by the day."Boy, do you understand? You're reshaping alchemy itself. Rune-pills could change the cultivation world!"
Haotian, however, only bowed."This disciple only follows your teachings, Elder."
Bai snorted. "Hah! Humble brat. You're more dangerous than the pills themselves." But deep inside, he felt both pride… and unease. If word spreads, the vultures will descend. We need to be ready.
One night, after another long session, Elder Bai carefully stored the successful pills into a jade box, sealing it with three layers of formations. He turned to Haotian, his expression unusually grave.
"Listen well, Haotian. For now, these pills must remain hidden. Not even the Sect Master should know until the time is right. If this leaks, jealousy and greed will tear this sect apart."
Haotian nodded silently, eyes calm.But deep in his heart, he knew: secrets never stayed buried forever.
And indeed, outside the sealed hall, a shadow stirred—one of the jealous disciples who had once tormented him, eyes narrowed as he spied faint glimmers of rune-light through a window crack.
The secret was already slipping.