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Surge in Foundation Pill Prices

Foundation Pill prices have exploded. Those cultivation clans who'd stocked up early are now jacking prices sky-high, hoarding every last pill. Even in the bustling Yuan City Market just outside Tianling Sect's gates, a single Foundation Pill now commands a breathtaking 50,000 spirit stones.

News spread fast: cultivators from every corner learned that Yuan City's prices hadn't jumped as wildly as elsewhere—so they called in favors or simply trekked thousands of miles south. Their arrival pushed prices up another five thousand spirit stones overnight. After all, supply and demand rule supreme.

For the stallkeepers of Yuan City, this boom felt like a windfall. Tianling Sect itself sheltered only a handful of disciples near breakthrough—none needed many Pills. So these traders, who'd quietly hoarded dozens of Pills, suddenly saw their stock become gold. A ninth-layer Qi Refinement cultivator like Xu Jing was a rare sight; even if he refined arrays rather than pills, he'd still earned far more than day-laboring for the Sect—enough to tuck away thirty thousand spirit stones.

Yet just two days into their euphoria, the stalls fell silent again. No matter how they hawked their Pills at fifty-five thousand spirit stones—or even at fifty thousand—they went unsold.

"What's happening?" snarled the Qín family's envoy. The Qíns held a sizeable share of the market and couldn't afford losses. Though their regular clientele were Qi Refinement cultivators, their last year's haul of spirit stones had been enviable, thanks to Tianling Sect's prestige. Elsewhere, Foundation Pills were clearing shelves at seventy or eighty thousand spirit stones, yet here at fifty thousand, nobody even glanced.

Word of trouble reached the Sect's inner halls, stirring quite a racket. The Qín family's overseer arrived at Yuan City Market, brandishing an "Energy-Replenishing Pill" as a bribe—and interrogation tool. Within minutes, he'd the scoop.

"Who's this bumbling alchemist?" he roared, pistol-whipping pill after pill into his palm.

From behind a lacquered pillar, a fifth-layer Qi Refinement disciple bristled. He'd just delivered that very pill. "Master Fang is a man of integrity. How dare you speak of him that way!"

Although barely on the threshold of pill-use, this junior disciple revered Fang Jìnyǔ for his generosity. While every other merchant seized on the price boom, selling Foundation Pills at ever-inflated rates, Fang had clung to the original price: thirty thousand spirit stones each. Moreover, he'd pioneered a spirit-item exchange—bring him the rare treasure he sought, and he'd add fifty percent on top of the market rate. A two-thousand-stone spirit pearl could claim a Foundation Pill from him.

Spirit stones were precious, even to ninth-layer cultivators. But everyone had odd trinkets tucked away: rare fungi, beast cores, elemental petals. Few parted with them, so when they did, the chance to swap upward for a Pill was irresistible.

Flushed with embarrassment, the Qín overseer bowed and retreated to dispatch his report. Other stallkeepers followed suit: this slump wasn't just Qín's headache—it was all of Yuan City's. By dusk, the name "Fang Jìnyǔ" had leaked like wildfire through Tianling Sect and beyond. Everyone wanted to know the story behind this eccentric pillmaster.

Master Fang's Justification

Fang Jìnyǔ had anticipated the uproar and pre-sent his own explanation throughout the Sect:

> "Cultivation is arduous for every brother and sister. These runaway Pill prices harm Tianling Sect's harmony. My late parents devoted themselves to our Sect's welfare. Recently, my insights into Foundation Pill alchemy have deepened, yielding more Pills than I can personally consume. Therefore, I choose to sell them at reduced prices, to repay my Sect and my peers for their sacrifices."

That very morning, Fang ascended Guiwang Peak to stand before the Nascent Soul Patriarch. Over a hundred Pills had already circulated, helping more than a dozen disciples break through Foundation without mishap. Others, still in the final preparatory stage, rejoiced at the timely support.

A Foundation Pill is engineered for cultivators whose spirit roots have just reached the three-nature threshold. One Pill confers an extraordinary chance of success—yet failure remains possible, searing the root and strengthening the barrier to future breakthroughs. A failed attempt demands at least three Pills next time. Thus, each successful Pill can save many from ruin, but a misfire hardens the path for its victim.

Deeply amused yet solemn, the Patriarch sipped tea and said, "Your generosity has doubled our Foundation Masters in a fortnight. But be warned: you risk making powerful enemies. I've smothered the gossip this time, but next time…"

He trailed off, amusement dancing behind his aged gaze. Though more Foundation Masters bolstered the Sect's future, unchecked charity could become a liability.

Then, leaning forward, the Patriarch pointed to the jade-inlaid tray. "Tell me, Fang Jìnyǔ—where did you procure so many Foundation Fruits? A hundred fruits, even a thousand, isn't something random wandering merchants scatter about." Strategic resources like Foundation Fruits are jealously guarded by great Sects. A sudden influx demands explanation.

Fang bowed deeply. "Three years past, my sworn brothers—a jade falcon named Qíng and a trio of black boars—discovered a thousand-year-old Foundation Fruit tree in a hidden vale. Out of loyalty, they offered these fruits to me."

The Patriarch's lips twitched. Even a Nascent Soul cultivator dare not seize another's personal prize—unless the owner had betrayed the Sect. Besides, Qíng the falcon and those boars were practically his honorary disciples.

His expression grew gentle. "Your talent is rare indeed. I have two gifts for you." He produced an ivory scroll inscribed with a Saint-Grade alchemical formula and, with a flick of his wrist, revealed a lotus-green treasure box.

"Within this scroll lie the distilled insights of a master alchemist. And in this box are twelve True Element Fruits—gifts fit for one of your caliber, for what you've done for Tianling Sect."

Fang Jìnyǔ dropped to one knee, voice vibrant with gratitude: "Disciple humbly thanks the Patriarch!"

Humanized, Scene-by-Scene Excerpts

Below are pivotal moments, rendered in natural English dialogue and prose:

Yuan City Market Merchant Li's face drained of color as no buyers approached. His partner hissed, "Li, did you cast the wrong spells? Everyone else is selling Pills at eighty thousand spirit stones!" Li spat back, "Then why won't anyone swallow ours at fifty? Something's off."

Qín Overseer's Wrath The Qín envoy slammed his talon-shod foot onto a wooden crate. "Explain yourselves, scoundrels! Prices should be stable—how dare you undercut the market?" The overseer, shame-faced, swallowed the gifted Energy-Replenishing Pill.

Junior Disciple's Defense Disciple Wén sneered at the overseer. "Master Fang refuses to trick his comrades. He honors our vows!" The overseer scowled. "Generosity is fine until it stalls trade. Without stable commerce, even Sect resources will dry up."

A Father's Legacy Fang paused at the foot of Guiwang Peak, recalling his parents' final teachings: mercy, diligence, selflessness. Those ideals guided his hand at the cauldron—and his choice to forgo profit.

Private Audience In the Orchid-Fragrant Hall, mountains of Pill crates loomed. The Patriarch gestured, "Your actions ripple through Sect politics. Keep your allies close—and your rivals closer." He placed a hand atop Fang's shoulder. "I trust you'll walk the middle path."

Why Foundation Pills Reshape Destiny

– Pivotal Aid: Foundation Pills target cultivators on the cusp of breakthrough, where one misstep can shatter future progress. – Market Forces: Scarce supply + desperate demand = volatile prices. A single master's generosity can crash markets or spark conflict. – Sect Dynamics: Within Great Sects, alchemists hold strategic sway. Their choices can tip the balance of power, influence promotions, and even incite rival factions.

Looking Ahead

• Will other Sects adopt Fang's model of charity, or will they tighten controls and embargo pills? • How will the Qín family and other merchants retaliate? • Once his Foundation Fruits run dry, can Fang sustain his low-price policy? Or will he evolve a new formula altogether?

In the cultivation world, a single Pill can mean life or death—ascension or collapse. Fang Jìnyǔ's blend of compassion and cunning just might rewrite the rules.

Extra Insights You Might Enjoy

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Let me know which angle intrigues you most, and we can explore it together!

in words range 4000 -5000The Foundation Pill Price Surge and Master Fang's Unorthodox Generosity1. A Market on Fire

Foundation Pills—those life-changing alchemical marvels that ease a cultivator's breakthrough into the Foundation Establishment realm—had always carried a hefty price tag. Yet over recent months, those prices had lurched upward like a mountain path besieged by an avalanche. The rumor mill in the cultivation world churned faster than ever: secret caches of pills discovered here, clandestine breakthroughs fueled there. And among the high peaks and mist-shrouded passes, the great cultivation clans—ever vigilant for profit and power—had quietly begun to hoard stocks of Foundation Pills, striking deals in shadowed pavilions and underground workshops.

Word traveled along the ley-line currents that, even in the bustling Yuan City Market just outside Tianling Sect's main gate, a single Foundation Pill could fetch no less than 50,000 spirit stones. For perspective, a young Qi Refinement disciple might scrape together a few hundred spirit stones over months of errand runs and spirit-herb gathering; 50,000 was enough to sustain him comfortably for a year. Yet despite such exorbitance, buyers continued to arrive in droves: refined swordbearers from the Azure Gorge clans, spirit-herb merchants from the Vermilion Bird's southern border, even reclusive hermits who'd shunned the world for decades. They claimed no single sect should monopolize supply when the need was so urgent.

When harvest season ended and the cold winds blew, dozens of caravans and spirit-beast mounts arrived at Yuan City's lacquerwood gates. Merchants in silks of every hue set up lacquer-striped pavilions; beggar-monks hawked counterfeit pills outside the walls. Yet even with such spectacle, the hoarded stock of genuine Foundation Pills steadily dwindled, and spirited bargaining escalated the price further—to 55,000… then 60,000 spirit stones. Some whispered of secret auctions held behind closed doors, where bids soared into six-figure offers and only nascent Emperors dared risk such sums. Demand, both urgent and unceasing, seemed unstoppable.

2. A Brief Windfall Turns to Silence

For the traders of Yuan City Market, those first weeks of soaring prices felt like a dream come true. They'd stockpiled handfuls of Foundation Pills—fabled as "life-wind in a pill," capable of smoothing the critical juncture between Qi Refinement and the Foundation realm. No matter if a cultivator was on the cusp of their breakthrough or simply gathering spirit materials, owning a Foundation Pill had become tantamount to a guarantee of success.

Among these traders was Merchant Li, a stocky man whose round face often carried a placid smile—until the day it vanished. He and his partner, Merchant Zhao, had spent years peddling talisman-strips and spirit noodles. When news of pill prices surged, they'd scraped together 30 pills, stored in iron talismans warded against theft. At 50,000 spirit stones apiece, their prospective profit was over 1.5 million spirit stones—a life's fortune for a mid-level merchant.

But as quickly as the gold seemed to flow in, the tide shifted. Two days into trading at fifty-five thousand spirit stones, both Li and Zhao found themselves unattended. Not a single cultivator stopped to examine their offerings. The lacquered pavilion stood silent; the usual clamor of bidders, the flurry of soul contracts, the wheeling and dealing—none remained. Only the wind stirred the hand-painted banners overhead.

Zhao paced, agitated. "Li, what's wrong? Everyone else is selling at sixty or even seventy thousand—and they're swamped by buyers."

Li rubbed his brow. "I've sent envoys to the other markets—purple-peak and jade-spring—pills fly out of stalls there. Here… nothing. It makes no sense."

Meanwhile, a heavy carriage from the Qín family's estate rattled through the market gate. The Qíns, one of the ten great merchant clans in the Eastern Continent, held considerable sway over Yuan City trade. Their envoy, a lean youth clad in azure brocade, dismounted with an official air. "I want an explanation," he announced, "Why are your Foundation Pills unsold at—" he glanced at the sign—"fifty-five thousand spirit stones?"

3. The Qín Family's Interrogation

Within minutes, Merchant Li came to stand before the Qín envoy's carriage, clutching an "Energy-Replenishing Pill" offered as both bribe and interrogation tool. Across the market, word of the Qín family's displeasure spread like wildfire. Traders who'd laid low during the initial boom now whispered in clusters: "The Qíns hold half the stalls here; if they freeze trading, everyone's pockets go cold."

One by one, stallkeepers approached the Qín young master to repeat Li's puzzled refrain: "We've sold at higher prices elsewhere. Why not here?"

But none could answer. The eastern stalls claimed they'd seen caravans bypass this market. The western tents said they'd heard that Master Fang—an obscure alchemist from within Tianling Sect—had been selling Foundation Pills at a rock-bottom price. Could that be true?

Back at his pavilion, the Qín youth glowered. "Who is this alchemist? Selling Foundation Pills cheap? Our profits depend on these prices."

A sudden hush fell. From behind a carved pillar, a young disciple—barely fifteen, wearing the simple robes of an inner sect acolyte—stepped forward, face flushed. "That would be my Master, Fang Jìnyǔ."

The Qín envoy eyed him disdainfully. "You? You're still a Qi Refinement disciple. How dare you speak of pill prices?"

The boy bristled. "Master Fang's not in it for profit. He sells at thirty thousand spirit stones, even accepting spirit items in trade—at fifty percent above market value. A two-thousand-stone spirit bead can get you one pill at his counters."

A murmur rose among the merchants. Certainly, no one sold at such a discount. Could that orphanish youth's claim be true?

4. A Disciple's Defense

Seeing the Qín envoy tighten his jaw, the disciple—Disciple Wén—held his ground. "Think of the countless disciples at Tianling Sect still struggling to break through. Foundation Pills are as rare as phoenix tears. Master Fang believes every brother and sister deserves a chance."

The crowd fell silent. Even Merchant Li stared at the boy, then at the lacquered carriage.

The Qín envoy scoffed. "Charity is well and good until it threatens the market. Foundations aren't given away—they're earned. Your master's stunt is destabilizing every merchant here."

Disciple Wén's eyes flashed. "And what of the sect's future? When disciples fall in the mountains, crushed by their own blockage, you merchants will hold all the cards. Master Fang's kindness anchors our sect's growth."

A heavy raindrop splashed a stall sign; the assembled traders parted ways, uneasy. No one wished to tangle further with the Qín family—yet whispers of Master Fang's cheap pills trailed them back to their stores. By dusk, the name Fang Jìnyǔ had spread throughout Tianling Sect like a contagion, carried by couriers and gossiping disciples alike. Who was this eccentric pillmaster daring to undercut the market?

5. Master Fang's Announcement

Before the market tumult could swell into outright conflict, Fang Jìnyǔ himself released a formal statement—a placard nailed to the Sect's main gate and distributed to every pavilion:

> Cultivation demands hardship. Each of our brothers and sisters labors through mountains of spirit-herbs, endures blistering flame-fields, braves countless setbacks. These runaway prices for Foundation Pills harm Tianling Sect's harmony and unity. > > In honor of my late parents—who devoted their entire lives to our Sect's welfare—and in recognition of my recent breakthroughs in pillcraft, I have produced more Foundation Pills than I can personally consume. Therefore, I choose to sell them at 30,000 spirit stones each, and in exchange for rare spirit items of equivalent market value, I will add an extra 50%. > > Let every sister and brother who seeks Foundation aid come without fear of poverty. > > —Fang Jìnyǔ, Refining Master, Guiwang Peak

Reactions rippled through the Sect. Inner-gate disciples hurried to Guiwang Peak, where Fang's temporary workshop housed silver cauldrons and spirit-oil lamps, each shelf lined with rows of pale gold capsules. Those with pockets empty of spirit stones but heavy with whatever spirit trinkets they'd treasured—quartz stalks, phoenix moss, crystallized stalagmite chips—lined up to exchange, tipping their heads gratefully to the modest-looking alchemist.

Internal whispers reached the ears of Tianling Sect's Nascent Soul Patriarch, Xu Shu, who normally reserved his time for urgent matters of sect politics and cosmic alignment. Hearing that over a hundred Foundation Pills had redistributed among struggling disciples within twenty-four hours, the Patriarch raised a delicate brow. "This Fang Jìnyǔ must harbor immense reserves—or rankle more powerful forces." He dispatched a runner with a personal invitation for Fang to join him for tea on Guiwang Peak.

6. The Meeting on Guiwang Peak

The morning mist swirled around Fang as he climbed to the Orchid-Fragrant Hall, where the Nascent Soul Patriarch awaited him. Ornate lanterns flickered in jade sconces; ancient calligraphy lined the scroll-laden walls. Fang bowed deeply, humble despite the hundreds of appraising eyes fixed upon him.

The Patriarch offered a hand, helping him to rise. "Your reputation precedes you. In a fortnight, you've distributed over a hundred pills, aiding more than a dozen breakthroughs. Some have even bypassed the need for multiple pills, thanks to your alchemy."

Fang inclined his head. "It is but a small debt repaid, Patriarch. My late mother and father—both passed at this peak—left me in service to Tianling Sect. It is only right I share what fortune I have."

The Patriarch gestured to a low table laden with lotus-shaped tea cups. As Fang accepted one, the elder's gaze sharpened. "Yet your actions court controversy. Merchants will unite against you; some powerful families might label you a threat. I have quashed the rumor mill once—but should a second storm rise, you may find fewer allies."

Fang's expression remained earnest. "Patriarch, I understand the risks. My only concern is the welfare of our disciples."

Xu Shu's lips twitched in a rare smile. "Your sincerity matches your talent. But tell me—where did you obtain so many Foundation Fruits? A hundred Pills requires a hundred fruits—perhaps more if any attempts fail."

Foundation Fruits, the fifty-year harvests of ancient plants steeped in the quintessence of earth and sky, were coveted by every great sect. To obtain them en masse suggested secret caches or extraordinary fortune.

Swallowing, Fang spoke plainly: "Three years past, when I had barely stepped into the Refinement realm, two of my sworn brothers—Qíng, a jade-plumed falcon, and three black boars under his wing—stumbled upon a secluded valley. There grew a thousand-year-old Foundation Fruit tree, laden with dozens of fruits. Out of trust, they entrusted these fruits to me for safekeeping."

Xu Shu's eyes narrowed in appraisal. Even a Nascent Soul cultivator dared not seize another's personal treasure unless it jeopardized the sect. The elder allowed a beat of silence before nodding. "Very well. Bonds between you and your creatures supersede any sect decree, provided they cause no harm. But do tread carefully. Covetous eyes prowl these halls."

7. Warnings, Rewards, and New Horizons

The Patriarch's demeanor softened. He reached beneath his robes and withdrew two items: a polished ivory scroll and a jade-green treasure box. "Your alchemy is of the highest caliber, Fang Jìnyǔ. I present you with these gifts."

From the scroll unfurled an elaborate pill recipe—courtesy of a Saint-Grade alchemist whose identity remained a closely guarded secret. Each stroke of the characters seemed to pulse with latent power.

The jade box, no larger than a fist, glowed softly as he opened it to reveal twelve True Element Fruits—rare catalysts said to amplify any pill's efficacy tenfold.

"These tools will aid your future refinements," Xu Shu explained. "Your contributions have strengthened Tianling Sect's ranks. May you continue in service, but always mindful of the delicate balance you command."

Fang bowed deeply, voice ringing with gratitude. "Disciple humbly thanks the Patriarch."

Behind him, the gathering of disciples and juniors erupted in quiet applause—some in awe, others eager to secure a future supply of master-crafted pills.

8. Aftermath and Lingering Questions

Word of the Patriarch's endorsement—and of Fang Jìnyǔ's legendary generosity—spread beyond Tianling Sect's borders. Merchants in adjacent markets fretfully updated their price boards; rival clans re-evaluated their hoarded stocks of Foundation Fruits. Some murmured that an embargo on pill sales outside select sects loomed on the horizon. Others speculated that Fang's generosity would ignite a wider reform in how strategic resources were distributed among the sects.

Within Tianling Sect, aspiring disciples—once hesitant to even approach Fengying Pavilion for fear of fleecing—now lined up in orderly rows. A handful hoarded spirit beads and beast cores, ready to exchange at Master Fang's counters. The sly smile on Fang's lips betrayed neither triumph nor misgiving; for him, each grateful bow, each budding breakthrough, was reward enough.

Yet as twilight settled upon the orchard paths, the Nascent Soul Patriarch's parting words echoed in Fang's mind: "Tread carefully. Every gift breeds envy." Beyond the misty gates of Guiwang Peak, shadowy figures observed from behind carved screens. Families like the Qíns, affronted by sudden profit loss, would surely conspire—some perhaps to discredit Master Fang, others to seize the mythical Foundation Fruit tree for themselves.

And then there was the question of sustainability. Twelve True Element Fruits and a saint-grade recipe could yield only so many meals for the cauldron. One day, Fang's personal reserves might dwindle, and the tide of supply and demand would once again threaten to overwhelm his small workshop.

Perhaps then he would unveil yet another innovation of alchemy. Or perhaps, as he had pledged, he would simply return to selling at thirty thousand spirit stones—intent on anchoring his sect's future even if it meant personal loss.

In the cultivation world, where breakthroughs hinge on the smallest margin of success, a single Foundation Pill can rewrite a disciple's destiny. And when one man chooses principle over profit—when one master stands against the current of avarice—the ripple effects can reshape entire markets and alter the course of hundreds of young cultivators.