Wang Lin, though cast out from the main courtyard and subject to the whispers of derision from fellow disciples, found contentment in his solitude. The past moon had granted him a rudimentary understanding of the Immortal Path, a journey divided into five distinct realms: Qi Condensation, Foundation Establishment, Elixir Formation, Nascent Soul, and the lofty Transformation God.

Within the entire Hengyue Sect, only two masters had attained the coveted Elixir Formation. They dwelt high in the back mountains, bathed in potent spiritual energy, their days consumed by secluded cultivation. They concerned themselves little with the sect’s daily affairs, yet their power made them the backbone of the order. As such, they enjoyed privileges most could only dream of: access to immortal stones and enchanted weaponry.

Save for these two paragons, most cultivators languished in the Qi Condensation stage. Such was the case with Sun Dazhu, a practitioner of the fifth level of Qi Condensation.

Cultivating Immortality was a treacherous and time-consuming pursuit. Lacking sufficient talent, a lifetime of dedication might yield little fruit. If Qi Condensation proved so arduous, Foundation Establishment was a veritable mountain to climb. It required not only a surfeit of spiritual energy but also extraordinary opportunities and profound insights.

Wang Lin understood the importance of spiritual energy implicitly. A burning desire to reclaim the mysterious beads ignited within him.

Though he remained unable to draw spiritual energy into his body, he believed frequent draughts of spring water infused with the bead’s power would hasten the process. For, in essence, Qi Condensation was nothing more than the accumulation of this vital essence.

Sun Dazhu’s own covetousness convinced Wang Lin of the spring water’s potency. And beyond the spring water lay a more enticing prospect. Hidden alongside the beads were three gourds filled with dew gathered at dawn, an elixir that surely pulsed with even greater spiritual energy.

To partake of such a bounty would far surpass the meager benefits derived from the monthly medicine, perhaps even eclipsing it. It was with a heart full of glee, then, that Wang Lin escaped the main courtyard and Sun Dazhu’s watchful gaze.

As an inner disciple, though denied residency in the main courtyard, he was free to choose lodgings within one of the five subsidiary courtyards. Wang Lin claimed a remote dwelling in the Fire Courtyard near the East Gate, taking up residence in its seclusion.

Inner disciples were granted certain privileges, denoted by the colour of their garments. Through Sun Dazhu, Wang Lin had learned that on the tenth day of each month, he could claim a fragment of a low-grade spirit stone and a spirit-grabbing pill from the alchemy chamber in the main courtyard. Ten such fragments could be exchanged with his master for a complete low-grade spirit stone.

Having settled into his new abode, Wang Lin refrained from immediately retrieving the mysterious beads, fearful of Sun Dazhu’s lingering surveillance. He continued his familiar routine: visiting the mountain spring and meditating in his room at night.

Indeed, Sun Dazhu’s initial vigilance waned after ten days, and he eventually abandoned his watch.

A moon later, under cover of darkness, Wang Lin stealthily traversed the mountains, circling and winding until he reached the secret location of the gourds. There, he reclaimed the beads and gourds, concealing them within his storage bag.

He remained cautious for several days, but finding no sign of discovery, his anxiety eased. He abandoned his visits to the mountain spring, dedicating himself to the study of the enigmatic beads.

Touching the beads, Wang Lin observed that the clouds swirling within them had multiplied, increasing from seven to nine. He attributed this to the mountains’ humidity, the beads absorbing moisture from the air.

The three gourds held their own mysteries. Upon opening them, Wang Lin discovered that the dew had thickened, transforming into a viscous substance, especially the dew gathered at dawn, which had almost solidified into a frozen skin.

His gaze shifted between the beads and the gourds, a daring notion taking root. The beads thrived on water, manifesting clouds. What if he poured the contents of all three gourds upon the beads, saturating them? Could it catalyze the emergence of a tenth cloud?

The thought was intoxicating. The bead was small, and the nine existing clouds covered nearly all its surface, leaving only a patch the size of a fingernail. It seemed likely that this was where the tenth cloud would manifest.

He pondered the consequences. What would occur when the clouds reached ten? There was no apparent space for an eleventh, suggesting that this tenth cloud might be the last.

But today was the appointed day to collect the spirit stones from the main courtyard. Seeing the encroaching darkness, Wang Lin carefully placed the beads and gourds within his storage bag, tucked them into his robes, and stepped out of his dwelling.

He knew the paths within the sect well and arrived at the main courtyard with haste. Before nightfall, he quickened his pace towards the alchemy chamber.

Even before he approached, a familiar voice echoed through the air.

“Senior Sister Zhou, the Master commanded me to seclude myself for three months, striving to break through to the first level of Qi Condensation. But my heart is ever with you, preventing my peace. Eager to see you again, I persevered, finally achieving the breakthrough last night. To you, I bring this flower, plucked from the mountain in the dead of night. Observe its delicate petals! A great serpent guarded it, and only with valiant effort did I prevail. See my arm, wounded in the struggle.”

Wang Lin paused, a frown furrowing his brow. A sneer touched his lips as he continued forward.

Another, crisper female voice countered, “Senior Brother Wang, my family has practiced medicine for generations. This flower is a common Asuka Bloom. I saw many on my ascent, but this is the first I have heard of a serpent guarding them. If this were true, the mountains of Hengyue Sect would surely teem with such guardians. Senior Sister Zhou, do not trust him.”

At that moment, Wang Lin stepped into the Danfang Garden. Four figures were present, two men and two women, all garbed in red robes.

One of the men was handsome and well-favoured. At present, he wore an expression of embarrassment, preparing to retort when his eyes widened, fixed upon the newcomer. His voice wavered, filled with disbelief, as he uttered,

“Wang Lin! What brings you here? Should you not be working with your father at the carpentry?”

“Wang Lin? Ah, you are Wang Lin! The one who sought discipleship through attempted suicide, and secured it through flattery!” exclaimed one of the girls, her hand flying to her mouth in mock surprise. She wore her shiny black hair in a thick braid, and beneath her dark eyebrows, she possessed a striking beauty.

The two remaining individuals exchanged surprised glances, their eyes lingering on Wang Lin. The woman had a pair of youthful, lovely eyes, adorned with long lashes, like two crystalline grapes that glistened with curiosity.

Wang Lin remained impassive, his gaze sweeping across the group. He recognized the first girl as the one who had mocked Wang Zhuo earlier. A moment’s reflection revealed her identity: she was the girl who had shone during the talent test months ago. Since he recognized her, it was a simple deduction that the other girl must be Senior Sister Zhou, the recipient of Wang Zhuo’s dubious flower.