Chapter 3: Shackles of the Dao

The carriage sped forward like a gust of wind, the mountains, rivers, and vegetation rapidly retreating into the distance.

Night had fallen, and the moon hung high above.

With a creak, the carriage finally came to a stop at the foot of a rugged mountain.

The old Taoist pulled back the curtain and took a glance outside. Nodding in satisfaction, he stepped out and effortlessly lifted Lu Li with one hand and Qin Shouren with the other. In a single bound, he landed atop a strange rock like a meteor descending from the sky. Without pause, he leapt again, rising and falling along the jagged terrain, moving with ghostly agility. Each jump carried him more than ten feet into the air.

Before long, the Taoist had reached the mountaintop.

There stood an ancient Taoist temple, its plaque inscribed with the words: Qingliang Temple.

Without hesitation, the old Taoist kicked open the door and strode inside.

Beyond the gate lay a spacious courtyard. A young Taoist, around seventeen or eighteen years old, paced anxiously within. At the sight of the old Taoist, his face lit up with relief. He exhaled heavily and rushed forward. "Master, you're back."

The old Taoist nodded. "I've brought four more medicine slaves. Two more remain at the foot of the mountain. Go retrieve them."

"Yes, Master!" The young Taoist bowed before hurrying out of the courtyard.

To the right stood a row of six small, low-built houses, each marked with a number from one to six. Without hesitation, the old Taoist carried Lu Li inside and tossed him into Room One before locking the door. Then, he did the same with Qin Shouren, throwing him into Room Two before departing.

Not long after, the young Taoist returned, out of breath, struggling under the weight of two more captives. His steps were unsteady, his face twisted in exhaustion. "Damn it, these pigs eat too much! Almost snapped my waist carrying them up here."

Grumbling, he swung open the door to Room Three and flung Chen Zhong inside. Then, he threw Li Xiangyun into Room Four before finally sighing in relief.

Pausing outside Room Six, he listened carefully. Silence. Shaking his head, he sighed and walked away.

The sun and moon took their turns in the sky.

The next morning, a thin beam of light slipped through the narrow ventilation window, cutting into the darkness of the small, damp room.

A foul stench filled Lu Li's nostrils. He frowned, slowly opening his eyes.

"Where... am I?"

He sat up, rubbing his aching head. A quick glance around revealed a confined, dimly lit space. The room was barren save for some scattered straw and damp patches on the floor.

"Am I... imprisoned?"

A wave of unease surged through him. The place looked eerily similar to the dungeons he had read about in books—thick, sealed walls, a single ventilation window, and a door that looked impossibly sturdy.

He grabbed the door and pulled with all his strength. It didn't budge. Cold steel. His heart sank.

"That old Taoist... he's definitely up to no good."

Lu Li backed up against the wall, wrapping his arms around his knees. A deep confusion clouded his eyes. The old Taoist's abilities were beyond anything he had ever seen. There was no telling what kind of danger he was in.

Clang.

A sudden noise startled him.

A small metal hatch at the base of the door slid open, and an iron bowl filled with food was pushed through.

Lu Li glanced at it. To his surprise, the food didn't look bad—in fact, it was better than anything he had eaten back in Dashi Village. Fragrant, well-prepared, with meat and vegetables. They weren't trying to starve him, at least.

"What exactly do they want with us?"

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of furious banging from the next room.

"You bastards! Let me out! I'll burn this place down, I swear!"

Lu Li let out a dry chuckle. "That fool Qin Shouren is still running his mouth."

Meanwhile, inside the main hall of Qingliang Temple, a small three-legged cauldron burned at the center of the room, flames licking at its base. A young Taoist sat nearby, carefully adjusting a metal knob. Each turn controlled the iron vents beneath the cauldron, shifting the intensity of the fire.

An elderly Taoist, seated cross-legged beside him, watched with approval. "Zhengping, you've grown skilled in controlling the fire. Well done."

Fan Zhengping wiped the sweat from his brow and muttered, "It's all thanks to your teachings, Master. But..." He hesitated. "Master, we keep capturing mortals for these experiments. Doesn't this go against the will of the heavens? Maybe after this batch, we should stop—"

Hmph.

The old Taoist snorted coldly. "Cultivation is the path of defying heaven. If you fear the heavens, you might as well pick up a plow and become a farmer like the rest of those mortals."

His eyes gleamed as he continued, "Besides, these mortals should feel honored. They are sacrificing themselves for our path to immortality. It's a blessing they have accumulated over lifetimes. Only by strengthening your heart can you walk further on this path. Do you understand?"

Fan Zhengping's lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he nodded. "Yes, Master."

Silence returned as he resumed his work, carefully monitoring the fire.

After a while, he shut it off and cautiously lifted the cauldron's lid. Inside lay two dark, pill-like objects. He frowned. "Master, the formula still isn't right. The Acupoint-Piercing Pill is supposed to be golden, but these are still black."

The old Taoist, Zhang Song, walked over and inspected the pills. "No matter. Perhaps the true color of the pill is black. We will refine it again and test it." His gaze flickered with greed. "If we succeed just once, we will be rich beyond measure."

Zhang Song was a rogue cultivator who had struggled on the path of cultivation for over eighty years. Despite reaching only the eighth level of Qi Refining, he had stumbled upon a remnant pill formula in an abandoned cave. The Acupoint-Piercing Pill was said to accelerate cultivation in the Qi Refining stage, allowing for rapid breakthroughs in meridian points—something even the great sects lacked.

But the recipe was incomplete. Three of the four key ingredients had been identified, yet the final component remained a mystery. Hundreds had already perished in the testing process, yet the right combination still eluded them.

"We'll try again," Zhang Song said firmly.

Fan Zhengping nodded. "I'll bring a test subject immediately."

He strode out into the courtyard, heading straight for Room Four. Opening the door, he looked at the boy inside. "Come out."

Li Xiangyun's eyes brightened as he hurried forward. "Master Immortal! Why did you lock me up? Where are Brother Nihou and the others?"

A flicker of hesitation crossed Fan Zhengping's face, but he quickly concealed it. "They've gone to train elsewhere. You were kept here to strengthen your character. It's over now. My master has refined an immortal pill for you. If you take it, you'll become an immortal."

"Really?"

"Of course."

With that, Fan Zhengping led the child toward the main hall.