Pill Saint's Divine Pill
Chang Le had long since accepted that this world did not operate on fairness.
The Black Wind Mountain Range had just been reduced to rubble, sects were moving like wolves scenting blood, and beneath the calm surface of the cultivation world, undercurrents surged. Strength was everything. Without it, you were nothing more than drifting dust.
And Chang Le?
He could refine pills.
That was the good news.
The bad news was that every pill he refined carried a fatal edge.
Inside the dim alchemy room, the furnace lid trembled as spiritual mist seeped through its seams. A rich, intoxicating fragrance spread outward—dense, pure, brimming with spiritual qi. Any cultivator would recognize it instantly: this was no ordinary elixir.
Chang Le lifted the lid.
Three pills lay quietly within, their surfaces glossy and faintly veined with crimson lines like living meridians. Spiritual light pulsed around them in steady waves.
A Foundation Establishment cultivator standing nearby swallowed hard. His eyes burned with longing.
“This… this aura…” His voice trembled. “It can really raise someone by two major realms?”
Chang Le dusted off his sleeves, his white robe unruffled, expression calm.
“It can,” he replied evenly. “Take it, and within a single incense stick’s time, your cultivation will soar—Foundation Establishment to Core Formation. Core Formation to Nascent Soul. No bottlenecks. No tribulation.”
The man’s breathing grew ragged. “There’s no trick?”
“There is,” Chang Le said.
Silence fell.
He picked up one pill between his fingers. Spiritual qi surged violently within it, as if barely restrained.
“There’s a tiny side effect.”
“How tiny?”
“It may explode your meridians, shatter your dantian, and leave you dead before the spiritual qi even settles.”
The cultivator’s face went pale. “Then how is that different from suicide?”
Chang Le looked at him, gaze steady and almost pitying.
“You think cultivating step by step will let you reach Nascent Soul?” His tone was mild, but every word struck like a hammer. “In this world, without opportunity, you’ll die nameless before you ever glimpse the peak.”
Outside, the wind howled across broken mountains.
Chang Le closed his fingers around the pill.
“Life and death are separated by a single thought. If you survive, you ascend. If you fail…” He gave a faint smile. “Then it simply means your fate was insufficient.”
In this cultivation world, survival had never been guaranteed.
But neither had mediocrity.