thunder

Fang Jìnyǔ blinked—and in the instant he'd been standing on Guiwàng Peak, he now found himself at its foot. The power of the Nascent Soul elder was still as unfathomable as ever. As for what happened afterward with the Foundation Pills… that was no longer his concern. True, his actions had set the whole outrageous price debacle in motion, but once the elder had spoken in Fang's defense, everything changed. Even the mighty Qín family dared not lay a hand on him. After all, there may be thousands of Golden Core cultivators in the Nine Desolates, but Nascent Soul experts number fewer than a hundred—and every one of them carries terrifying clout.

Still, Fang wasn't about to tempt fate. He retreated into seclusion to consolidate everything he'd learned—and to make good use of his newly acquired "cheat codes." Two days later…

Deep within a simple vine-draped grotto on Little River Peak, Fang Jìnyǔ set aside the scroll bearing the Saint-Grade alchemical recipe for the Yuán Líng Pill. He wasn't just reading the formula; he had spent the past forty-eight hours dissecting every subtle hint of insight embedded in the elder's gift.

A system notification bloomed in mid-air—so familiar now to Fang's ears: [Today is the day you learn from the Saint-Grade Alchemist's Experience.] [You have extracted "Saint-Grade Technique 1."]

Fang's lips curved into a triumphant smile. "Of course," he murmured. "With my innate gift, how could I fail to comprehend it?"

He deliberately ignored the memory of the previous day's fruitless study, and the absurd side-effect he'd somehow triggered while sweeping the courtyard—an inexplicable "Charm +1"—which he decided was best forgotten. On reflection, the only real lesson he'd drawn was that manual labor apparently boosted his "appearance stat." Go figure.

Stashing the newly understood recipe away, Fang felt his alchemy rank leap from "Common Pill-Crafter" to "Ordinary Pill-Master." From now on, any pill targeting Foundation-Establishment disciples—no matter how advanced—would enjoy at least a 30% success rate whenever he brewed it.

He leaned back on the mossy rock floor, eyes alight. Even the fact that his Kuí-Niu True-Spirit bloodline had yet to manifest its innate art couldn't dampen his mood. True, the beast-blood he'd absorbed wasn't enough to grant him a full-fledged divinity technique—his Draconic Lightning Core slumbered on—but it still granted him a measure of thunderous power. In combat, he'd already seen how a flicker of his storm-tinged mana could stun an enemy and seize the initiative.

Now, any opponent caught in his mana's radius would writhe as if struck by divine lightning, losing all ability to move—unless they, too, had mastered superior thunder-arts. Even Qin Hàoyuè's legendary Spirit Fire paled beside the savage storm Fang could unleash whenever he gathered his will.

Just then, a faint click and glow drew his attention: the ward at the grotto's mouth had been activated. A Flying-Message Talisman.

"Who could—?" Fang summoned the glowing tag and scanned its master. It was Xu Jing, newly Foundation-Established, sending his thanks—and an invitation to a Foundation-Celebration Feast.

"A 'Feast of Shared Joy,'" Fang mused, folding the talisman. "Or as mortals call it, a class reunion."

He smiled wryly and ignored the invitation altogether. It was well-known that Foundation cultivators vanished for months at a time. He'd reply in three or four months—by which time he'd be comfortably tucked away in deeper seclusion. No need to trot out excuses: it was standard practice. Besides, he was eager to test the Yuán Líng Pills himself, not parade before peers.

Selecting one pale pearl-shaped pill, he pressed it to his tongue, feeling its potent aura sift through his nerves. Then, he entered the Ten-Directional Xùn-Zhèn Scripture's first layer of cultivation: the Wind-Thunder Tempering Method.

This pioneering scripture included four stages—Qi Refinement, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, and Nascent Soul—each unlocking progressively fearsome transformations.

• Stage One, Wind-Thunder Tempering: upon full mastery, a cultivator's qi body weaves thunder into every cell. The flesh and bones become tougher than ordinary peers, life force amplified—but still shy of a true Body-Refiner's complete transformation. • Stage Two, Wind-Thunder Manifestation: here the cultivator shapes thunder-spirit into two core art forms—"Myriad Transformations in the Xùn Phase" and "Rumble of Innate Thunder."

Initially, Fang intended to skip the latter technique, preferring to wait until he'd amassed more genuine thunder-attribute treasures. But with his Kuí-Niu bloodline now awakened, he no longer feared scarcity of thunder essence.

He closed his eyes and began to circulate his mana. Eight days passed in a blur, and when Fang opened his eyes again, they shone with quiet joy. Without hesitation, he swallowed a second Yuán Líng Pill.

As the final pearl dissolved, a surge of heavenly power rippled through him. When he opened his eyes, his cultivation had definitively advanced to Foundation Establishment Third Layer!

"This Yuán Líng Pill truly lives up to its reputation," he whispered, ruffling the folds of his robe.

In less than three months' time—far swifter than any mortal journey of angst and heartbreak—his cultivation leapt forward. Without pills, he might have crawled to Foundation Second Layer with luck and random breakthroughs. But now…

"Time to brew another batch," he decided with a confident grin. "Though I'll augment the ingredients for greater yield."

With the Ten-Directional Scripture's higher levels awash in subtle bottlenecks, continued insight and mana accumulation alone would suffice to convert his power into raw cultivation. Truly, having a "cheat code" was the ultimate edge in cultivation!

Stepping from his grotto, Fang made his way toward the Lì-character Spirit-Herb Peak—until he paused mid-stride. He'd forgotten the ten-thousand-spirit-stone debt he still owed.

So Fang veered off toward the Xùn-character Herb Peak instead. But no sooner had he rented the alchemy chamber than a group of scowling disciples blocked his path.

"You must be Fang Jìnyǔ, right?" their tone was anything but friendly. Fang regarded them curiously—surely not more sect grudges? Yet before he could react, the group snorted and fled. Puzzled but unbothered, Fang shrugged it off.

Settling before the furnace, he began refining his latest batch of Yuán Líng Pills. This time, eight perfect pearls solidified in the crucible. Fang's eyes glittered. This richer formula should propel him to Foundation Fourth Layer in no time.

As he reached to lift the freshly minted pills, the system interface glimmered once more: [Today is the day your months-long plan bears fruit.] [You have extracted "Fortune +1."]

Fang Jìnyǔ leaned back, savoring how every step—whether by talent, by pill, or by sheer will—propelled him ever closer to mastery. The path ahead was still long, but with divine grants and celestial insights on his side, there was no summit he could not reach.