The moment Haotian lowered the rune-marked pill, the hall erupted.
Disciples surged forward like waves, their silver sleeves flashing as they pressed around him, eyes wide with awe and questions tumbling over one another.
"Senior, how did you stabilize the flame so perfectly?"
"Was that rune a formation or a personal sigil?"
"Thirty percent… that would turn defeat into victory! Could you teach us—?"
Some stared at him with reverence, voices trembling with barely contained excitement. Others masked their envy with forced laughter.
"Hmph, so he made one pill. What of it? Elder Ziyue probably just wanted entertainment."
"Still, I've never seen anyone refine like that…"
Haotian's calm did not waver. He answered little, offering only short, steady words. "Control. Balance. Patience." No more, no less. He allowed their awe, endured their curiosity, but gave them nothing to bind him.
Inside, though, he sighed. I came seeking peace, yet the further I walk, the more eyes gather. The cauldron soothes me. Their whispers do not.
On the dais, the elders' debate began.
Elder Jian, sharp-eyed and ambitious, leaned forward. "Do you not see? Our sect has hungered for alchemical strength. With him, our disciples would rise faster, stronger. His talent is rare beyond measure. We must claim him."
Across from her, Elder Yunfei's lips pressed into a thin line.
"Claim him? He is a man. A man in the Moon Lotus Sect? We have held to tradition for centuries. Will you break it now for one outsider?"
Ziyue's eyes shimmered faintly, but she remained silent, letting the storm swirl.
Another elder interjected, her voice cautious. "But if he leaves, what then? Another sect will seize him, and in time his name will eclipse ours. Better to bind him to us—"
"Bind him?" Yunfei scoffed.
"You speak as if talent is loyalty. A man who left his first sect will leave another. We risk poison for the sake of short-term gain."
The elders' voices rose, some heavy with hunger, others sharp with resistance. The hall above seethed with ambition and fear, even as below, disciples buzzed around Haotian like bees around an unshaken tree.
Ziyue finally raised her hand, and the hall fell silent.
Her voice was smooth, cool, carrying easily.
"Enough. We will not decide his place by squabbling in shadows. He has shown skill, restraint, and potential. That is undeniable."
Her gaze drifted down, locking on Haotian's calm figure surrounded by disciples.
"The question," she said softly, "is whether he will allow the lotus to keep him… or whether he will drift back into the river."
Her smile was faint, sly, unreadable.
"And that… only time will reveal."
The disciples' circle slowly parted as attendants moved to restore order, though eyes still clung to Haotian as if he were some star fallen into their midst. Some looked at him with hope, some with jealousy, some with something keener—a hunger for what he could teach.
Haotian, for his part, only adjusted his sleeve, his face unreadable. Peace, pills, quiet. That is all I ask. And yet already, the waves rise again.
Night cloaked the Moon Lotus Sect in silver light, its pavilions rising like pale lanterns above rivers of drifting mist. The disciples' chatter had long since faded, but Haotian's name lingered in their whispers like embers refusing to die.
An attendant led him through winding corridors of carved jade, stopping at a crescent-shaped gate adorned with lotus blossoms of silver and pearl. She bowed low."Elder Ziyue awaits."
Inside, the hall was lit only by moonstones set into the walls, their glow soft and ethereal. The air smelled faintly of lotus incense, cool and sweet, wrapping the senses like silk.
At the far end, Elder Ziyue reclined upon a cushioned seat, her robes flowing like liquid silver, her hair gleaming under the moonlight. Her eyes, sharp and dark, fixed upon Haotian as he entered.
She gestured lazily with one hand. "Sit."
Haotian inclined his head and lowered himself cross-legged upon the polished floor, his posture steady, his expression calm.
Her voice was smooth, deliberate, each syllable like a string plucked on a guqin."Today, you shattered pride, and in its place you sowed awe. Disciples, elders—none can deny what they saw. A man who inscribes runes into pills. A man who refines as though the cauldron itself obeys him."
Her lips curved faintly, sly and serpentine."But brilliance comes with price. Do you wish to remain here, Haotian? In the Moon Lotus Sect?"
Haotian's gaze did not waver. "That depends on the terms."
Ziyue's laughter was soft, velvet in the quiet hall. "Direct. Good. Then let us speak plainly. You know our sect's ways—men are here, yes, but they sweep floors, haul stone, grind herbs. They are shadows beneath the lotus. But you…" Her eyes glittered, half-shrouded in moonlight."You could be different. If you remain, I will grant you what you claim to desire: a sanctuary. A place where you may refine in peace. I will provide herbs, cauldrons, disciples to assist you. You will not want for resources."
Her tone lowered, taking on an almost seductive hum."In return, you give us your hands, your flame, your runes. Let the Moon Lotus Sect bloom brighter on the strength of your pills."
Haotian's face remained calm, unmoved by her silken tone. "You wish to use my skill to strengthen the sect."
Ziyue smiled slowly. "Every sect uses its talents. Do not pretend you refine for nothing. You seek peace, yes—but even peace must be protected. Alone, the world will chase you until you bleed. Here, I can shelter you."
Her eyes narrowed faintly, her gaze piercing."But understand: I do not shelter without weighing cost. Show me again, and again, that your alchemy is more than words. Prove that your runes are no fleeting trick. Do this, and I will make you untouchable within these walls."
For a long breath, silence stretched. Then Haotian inclined his head slightly, his voice calm as ever."I left the Cold River Sect because they sought to chain me. If you seek the same, then I will leave again. I desire no power, no seat, no recognition. Only a cauldron, flame, and time."
Ziyue's lips curved into something between a smile and a smirk."So steady. So unshaken. You do not bend to flattery, nor to fear."
Her eyes glimmered with something keener than amusement."Very well, Haotian. I will not chain you. But I will test you. Tomorrow, you will refine before the elders again—this time, not a simple healing pill, but a true test of skill. If you succeed, you may have your peace. If you fail…" Her smile widened faintly."…then you will crawl from these halls as every man before you."
Haotian bowed his head once, unruffled. "So be it."
As he rose to leave, Ziyue's gaze followed him like moonlight, soft yet unyielding.
So calm. So stubborn. If I cannot bend him, I will see how long he can stand. A river may carve stone—but stone may also dam rivers. Which are you, boy?
The alchemy hall was hushed, filled only with the faint hiss of incense and the shuffling of disciples and elders taking their seats. Word of Haotian's second trial had spread swiftly, and the hall was now packed with witnesses, eager or skeptical, waiting to see if his earlier brilliance was mere chance.
At the center stood Haotian, expression calm, sleeves folded as he studied the empty cauldron before him. His voice was low, steady, yet carried clearly through the hall.
"For what the Moon Lotus Sect needs, a common healing pill will not suffice."
He closed his eyes briefly, then began to recite, one by one, the herbs he required: "Cold Dew Orchid. Iceleaf Grass. Vein Lotus Root. A fragment of Frost Crystal. Spirit Ginseng for balance. Snow-silk Vine…"
Elder Ziyue raised her hand with a languid wave. A servant bowed and took the list, disappearing swiftly into the side halls. Within moments, a male servant returned, arms laden with jade trays. Each herb glowed faintly with natural energy—roots dripping frost, petals exhaling mist, leaves still dewy with spiritual condensation.
Haotian's eyes flicked over them once. "These are excellent quality."
The hall stirred. His tone was calm, almost detached, but in his eyes a faint golden light flickered as his mind shifted into focus.
He moved deliberately. The cauldron's flame roared to life under his qi, steady and pure, the fire bending as though it obeyed him alone. He began with the stabilizers, melting the base herbs into translucent liquid before adding rarer elements—frost crystals cracked into essence, lotus roots dissolving into threads of light.
But then, his hands moved again, weaving sigils through the air. Golden runes spiraled out, embedding themselves into the cauldron's bronze body.
"Formations?" a disciple whispered."He's layering arrays while refining?!"
Two formations bloomed into existence around the cauldron. The first pulled at the air, gathering qi until threads of spiritual energy streamed inward like rivers. The second pulsed faintly, stabilizing the volatile mixture within, smoothing what should have been turbulence into calm flow.
Then, Haotian leaned closer, his palm pressing gently against the cauldron's surface. Lines of light crawled along the bronze, runes slipping into the half-formed pills within. The cauldron shuddered once, and then quieted, as if soothed by unseen hands.
When the lid finally rose, a soft white glow poured from the cauldron. Gasps erupted as one by one, pills floated into the air. Not three. Not five.
Seventeen.
The disciples surged forward, eyes wide, voices incredulous.
"Seventeen pills?!""That batch could only yield two at most!""How is this possible—did he multiply the herbs themselves?!"
Even the elders leaned forward, their composure cracking.
Haotian raised a hand, catching the cluster of pills in his palm. They were translucent, faintly crystalline, glowing with threads of icy light. Each bore a delicate rune across its surface, etched so finely it seemed natural, as if carved by heaven itself.
He flicked one pill with his finger. It soared across the hall like a comet. Elder Ziyue's hand rose, catching it lightly.
She brought it to her eyes. Her pupils dilated faintly. "A Crystal Vein Pill… but altered."
Haotian inclined his head. His voice remained calm, steady, every word carrying weight.
"Yes. A variant. If taken during cultivation with a spirit stone, the spirit essence absorbed will transform into yin qi. For female disciples, this makes refinement smoother, easier, with less waste."
Gasps swept the hall. But Haotian continued, his tone even.
"It will also increase the absorption rate threefold. And with the rune's effect…"
He paused, then spoke the words that shattered the hall.
"…seventy percent effective refining."
The silence was deafening. Then, like a dam breaking, the hall erupted in disbelief.
"Seventy percent?!""Impossible!""With just this pill, every disciple could advance in half the time—""No, less than half! This could change the sect's foundation itself!"
Even the elders rose from their seats, their composure torn away. Some clutched the railings, others leaned forward with eyes burning. The disciples were already half kneeling, staring at Haotian as though he were some celestial being descended into their midst.
And Elder Ziyue—unshakable, serene Elder Ziyue—rose slowly to her feet. The pill trembled faintly between her fingers.
Her voice was hushed, but every ear caught it."Seventy percent… with this alone, the Moon Lotus Sect will rise."
Her gaze locked on Haotian, unblinking, sharp, yet almost reverent.
"Who… are you, truly?"
But Haotian's face remained unchanged, his eyes calm, his tone unshaken."I am no one. Only a man who wishes to refine in peace."
The hall was silent again—this time not from disbelief, but from awe too deep for words.
The council chamber was dim, its walls hung with silver-threaded tapestries of lotus blossoms, its center dominated by a long table of carved jade. One by one, the elders of the Moon Lotus Sect took their seats, their faces grave, their voices already buzzing with suppressed urgency.
The spectacle of the Crystal Vein Pills still lingered in their minds—the brilliance of runes shimmering on translucent white pills, the staggering effect of seventy percent refining efficiency. The hall had been in uproar, disciples trembling with awe, but now, in private, the weight of such power pressed heavier than incense smoke.
It was Elder Jian who broke the silence first. Her voice was sharp, hungry."We cannot let him slip away. With those pills alone, we could double the strength of our disciples in less than a generation. Our rivals in the East would fall behind within years. We must bind him to the sect."
Another elder nodded, her tone clipped. "Titles, rewards, promises—whatever it takes. We can make him our Pill Elder. No sect would dare challenge us if he stays."
But Elder Yunfei's lips thinned, her voice cutting across the chamber like frost."Do you hear yourselves? A man. A man elevated in the Moon Lotus Sect? Have we forgotten who we are? For centuries we have held tradition. To raise him so high is to spit upon it."
The chamber stirred, voices rising.
"Tradition will not defend us if our disciples fall behind.""And if we push him away, another sect will seize him. Do you wish to see our enemies strengthened by our folly?""Better we risk tradition than risk weakness."
Ziyue, who had been silent until now, raised her hand. Her voice was smooth, but the authority behind it cut through the clamor.
"You are blind if you think Haotian can be bound by chains of rank or recognition. He does not seek them."
Elder Jian scoffed. "And you know this how?"
Ziyue's gaze sharpened, her eyes narrowing."Because he told me. He left the Cold River Sect not for lack of strength, but for their politics. They sought to strangle him, suppress him, even kill him. Twenty-one assassins fell to his spear before he left without a word. Do you think we can bind a man who would walk away from his own sect after such blood?"
The chamber quieted. Some elders shifted uneasily at the thought—twenty-one assassins slain, one man leaving an entire sect behind as though it were nothing.
Ziyue leaned forward, her tone turning colder, steel beneath silk."He does not hunger for power. He does not crave recognition. He seeks only sanctuary—a place to refine in peace. If we push him, if we treat him like a prize to be chained, he will leave us as he left the Cold River Sect. And then…"
Her eyes swept across the chamber, lingering on each elder."…our chance to rise will become another's."
Silence hung heavy, broken only by the faint creak of wood. Elder Yunfei finally spoke, her voice softer, uncertain."And if he leaves us in time, regardless?"
Ziyue's lips curved faintly, unreadable."Then we will have had the use of his hands while he stayed. That alone will be more than this sect has ever possessed."
Her gaze turned toward the moonlight streaming through the high window. "But if we cherish him, if we give him what he seeks, he may find no reason to leave. Even the strongest river will pause, if the banks cradle it gently enough."
The elders exchanged uneasy looks, ambition warring with caution, tradition clashing with opportunity.
At last, Elder Jian sighed, folding her arms. "So be it. No chains, no titles. Sanctuary only. But mark me, Ziyue: if he slips away, the blame will be yours."
Ziyue's lips curved faintly. "I accept."
Inside, however, her thoughts coiled tighter. A man who slays assassins, who inscribes runes into pills, who stands calm in storm… No, Haotian will not be bound by politics. But perhaps… he can be anchored by something subtler.
Her smile deepened, though her eyes remained sharp as moonlight on steel.
And if the others cannot see it, I will be the one to weave the net.
The announcement was made beneath the pale lanterns of the sect's main square, where hundreds of disciples gathered in rows of silver robes. The moon hung high, casting its glow across the courtyard as Elder Ziyue stood upon the raised dais, her presence commanding as ever.
Her gaze swept across the assembled crowd, her voice clear and resonant."From this day forward, Haotian will reside within the Moon Lotus Sect. Not as Elder, not as Master, but as Sanctuary Alchemist."
Murmurs rippled like waves through the ranks. Some were wide-eyed, others incredulous. A man, granted title in the sect? Impossible. Unheard of. And yet, they had seen the pills with their own eyes.
Ziyue's tone sharpened, silencing them."He has no interest in politics, nor will he meddle in our affairs. He has agreed to remain only if our sect honors this: no tricks, no chains, no games of power. He refines, and we cherish his work. Should we betray this, he will leave as he once left the Cold River Sect."
A ripple of unease passed through the disciples. Even those who had whispered envy or disdain could not ignore the weight of her words.
Ziyue raised the translucent white pill in her hand, its rune gleaming faintly under the moonlight."This—Haotian's Frost Crystal Vein Pill—will, in time, be administered as part of our female disciples' monthly stipend, when there is enough supply. With it, your cultivation will quicken, your qi will smooth, your foundations will strengthen. This is what he offers us. Treat him accordingly."
Her sleeve swept down like a silver tide, ending the proclamation. The disciples bowed as one, though whispers lingered sharp as knives in the crowd.
Haotian's sanctuary was a modest courtyard nestled against the mountain's misty cliffs. Lotus ponds rippled under the night breeze, while a small pill room stood at its heart, lined with neat shelves of jade containers, cauldrons, and rune-etched stone floors perfect for formations.
When Haotian stepped inside, his gaze lingered on the cauldron awaiting him. His hand brushed its cool surface. At last. A place where the fire may burn without blades waiting in the dark.
He exhaled, the tension of years slipping faintly from his shoulders. This may be peace. If only for a time.
But peace never remained long.
Within days, disciples began to arrive. At first in pairs, shy and uncertain, peering curiously into his courtyard. Soon in groups, some clutching herbs, others only their bold gazes. They came under the guise of seeking instruction, or merely to "watch the alchemy fire."
"Senior Haotian, may I watch how you control the flame?""Could you explain that rune again—the one you used for stability?""Your hands move so calmly… is that why the herbs obey you?"
Some disciples leaned closer than courtesy allowed, their eyes bright with curiosity—or something sharper. Others lingered by the lotus ponds long after lessons ended, whispering as though hoping to catch a fragment of his aura.
Haotian remained calm, unwavering. He taught those who brought genuine questions, guiding their hands with quiet, simple words.
"Balance the heat here.""Your mind must be still before the flame can be still.""The rune is not written by hand, but by intent carried through qi."
To others, he offered nothing more than a polite nod, never flinching under their glances or laughter. His heart did not stir. His hands never wavered. The cauldron burned, the pills formed, and he remained steady as stone.
High above, from the shadows of a pavilion, Elder Ziyue watched once more.
Her lips curved faintly. "He rejects praise, ignores temptation, yet still they gather. The flame draws moths whether it seeks them or not."
Her eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating."Let them test him. If he does not bend, then perhaps… he is worth more than even I imagined."