—————
The bottleneck mocked him.
Jin sat in his usual cultivation position, the familiar courtyard dark around him, the sounds of his sleeping family drifting through the night air. His qi circulated with perfect efficiency, the Azure Harmonization Method operating automatically as it had for years, drawing in spiritual energy and refining it through meridians that had long since reached their maximum capacity.
[Azure Harmonization Method - Current Efficiency: 100%]
The tracker pulsed its steady confirmation, unchanged from the day he had perfected the technique. One hundred percent efficiency. Maximum advancement within the Qi Gathering stage. A cultivation base as solid as mortal practice could achieve.
And yet he could not break through.
One year. Twelve full months at peak Qi Gathering, his reserves overflowing, his meridians straining against limits they could not surpass. He had tried everything—meditation retreats, experimental breathing patterns, consultation with every senior disciple willing to share their insights. Nothing worked.
Foundation Establishment remained as distant as the flying immortals he had watched in wonder as a child.
Jin opened his eyes, frustration simmering beneath his carefully maintained composure. The courtyard was peaceful—Lin Mei's herb garden thriving in one corner, Wei Feng's beetle collection housed in careful containers along the eastern wall, Wei Hua's practice mat rolled neatly beside the meditation stone. The baby—their daughter Wei Lan, now three months old—slept in the room beyond, her soft breathing audible to Jin's enhanced senses.
Everything he had built. Everything he had to protect. And he was stuck.
The problem, he had gradually come to understand, was not power. His qi reserves exceeded most peak Qi Gathering cultivators by a significant margin. His techniques were mastered to the point of instinct. His efficiency was literally perfect.
The problem was vision.
Foundation Establishment was not simply an accumulation of energy. It was a transformation—a fundamental restructuring of the cultivator's relationship with spiritual power. Those who achieved it spoke of insights, of moments of clarity that revealed truths invisible to those still trapped in the mortal realms of cultivation.
Jin had no such insights. His advancement had always been mechanical, guided by the mysterious tracker that showed him exactly how to optimize his practice. Efficiency and dedication had carried him to heights that his spiritual roots should never have allowed.
But efficiency could not manufacture understanding. Dedication could not create wisdom. For the first time in his cultivation journey, his advantages were not enough.
He needed something more.
—————
The idea came to him during a conversation with Overseer Huang.
"You've been stuck for a year," she observed, her steel-gray eyes missing nothing despite her advanced age. "Your cultivation has not increased by a single measure since you reached the peak."
"I'm aware." Jin kept his voice neutral, though the observation stung. "I've tried every approach I can think of."
"You've tried agricultural approaches." Huang's thin lips curved into something approaching a smile. "Farming perspectives applied to cultivation advancement. But Foundation Establishment is not about growing things—it's about transformation. Metamorphosis. The caterpillar becoming the butterfly."
"And how does one learn about transformation?"
"By studying those who specialize in it." Huang set down the jade slip she'd been reviewing. "The Alchemy Division. They understand change at a fundamental level—how one substance becomes another, how spiritual energy can be refined and restructured into entirely new forms. Their insights might provide the perspective you lack."
Jin considered this. The Alchemy Division was part of the inner sect, accessible only to those who had demonstrated sufficient potential or achieved Foundation Establishment. As a peak Qi Gathering outer disciple, he had no formal standing to request entry.
"How would I gain access?"
"Apply for provisional inner disciple status." Huang's expression was calculating. "Your background is clean—no disciplinary issues, no political entanglements, no enemies powerful enough to block your advancement. Your cultivation achievements are extraordinary for your spiritual roots. And the Alchemy Division is always seeking disciples with agricultural backgrounds—understanding spirit plants is valuable for understanding medicine."
"Would they accept me?"
"I'll write a recommendation." Huang rose from her desk, moving to the window that overlooked the terrace she had supervised for so many decades. "The Alchemy Peak values potential over current achievement. A peak Qi Gathering cultivator who reached that level in twelve years, with three-colored low-grade roots? That's exactly the kind of anomaly they like to investigate."
Jin bowed formally. "Thank you, Overseer Huang. I won't forget this assistance."
"See that you don't." Her voice held warmth beneath its customary sharpness. "I've invested considerable effort in your development. I expect returns on that investment."
—————
The Alchemy Peak rose from the sect's central valley like a monument to transformation itself.
Jin stood at its base, neck craned upward, trying to comprehend the scale of what he was seeing. The peak was not a natural formation—centuries of cultivator engineering had reshaped it into something that defied conventional architecture. Terraces carved from living stone spiraled upward in patterns that seemed to follow no logical structure. Buildings grew from the rock face like crystalline formations, their walls translucent, their roofs catching light at angles that made them appear to glow from within.
Steam rose from vents scattered across the peak's surface, carrying scents that Jin's enhanced senses struggled to categorize. Medicinal herbs, certainly—he recognized many from his agricultural experience. But also stranger odors: metallic compounds, sulfurous emissions, the sharp bite of substances he couldn't identify.
The sounds were equally unusual. Rhythmic grinding from pill furnaces. The bubble and hiss of refining processes. Occasional explosions from experiments gone wrong, followed by shouted curses and the acrid smell of ruined materials.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
Jin turned to find a young woman standing beside him. She wore the white robes of an inner sect alchemy disciple, her dark hair bound in an elaborate knot secured with jade pins shaped like tiny medicine bottles. Her face was pleasant rather than beautiful, with intelligent eyes and a mouth that seemed naturally inclined toward smiles.
"I'm Chen Mei," she said. "Seventh-year alchemy disciple. You must be the agricultural prodigy everyone's been talking about."
"I wouldn't call myself a prodigy," Jin replied carefully.
"Peak Qi Gathering in twelve years with three-colored roots? That's prodigy territory, whether you claim the title or not." Chen Mei began walking toward the peak's main entrance, gesturing for Jin to follow. "I've been assigned to guide you to your evaluation. The elders want to assess you before confirming your provisional status."
Jin fell into step beside her, his senses automatically scanning their surroundings for threats and opportunities. The path wound upward through carefully maintained gardens—not agricultural fields but medicinal plots, each section dedicated to different categories of spirit plants.
"These are the outer cultivation grounds," Chen Mei explained, noting his interest. "Where we grow common materials for training purposes. The rare ingredients are kept higher up, in secured facilities with proper environmental controls."
"How many disciples study here?"
"Perhaps three hundred in active training, plus another hundred in research positions." Chen Mei stepped around a disciple who was frantically searching through a bed of silver-leafed plants. "Most never achieve Foundation Establishment—they become support staff, contributing their skills without advancing further. Those who do break through often leave for more prestigious opportunities."
"What about you?"
"Me?" Chen Mei's smile took on a complicated edge. "I'm at level eight Qi Gathering. Two more levels before I can attempt Foundation. Whether I'll succeed…" She shrugged. "The statistics aren't encouraging for disciples of my background."
Jin recognized the tone—the carefully managed hope of someone who had learned not to expect too much from the cultivation world. He'd felt it himself, in his early years.
"The statistics aren't always right," he offered.
"So they say." But Chen Mei's smile warmed slightly. "Come on. Master Ma doesn't like to be kept waiting."
—————
The library occupied an entire floor of the Alchemy Peak's central building.
Jin stepped through the entrance and felt his breath catch. The space was vast—far larger than it should have been, given the building's external dimensions. Shelves rose toward a ceiling that seemed to recede into infinite distance, each one packed with jade slips, scrolls, and bound manuscripts. Floating platforms carried disciples between levels, their movements guided by formation arrays that Jin's peak Qi Gathering senses could barely perceive.
The air smelled of old paper and preservation talismans, underlaid with the faint ozone scent of concentrated spiritual energy. Light came from no visible source, instead seeming to emanate from the very air itself, providing perfect illumination without shadows or glare.
"Welcome to the Repository of Ten Thousand Formulas."
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Jin turned, searching for its source, and found an old man who seemed to have materialized from the shadows between shelves.
Master Ma was ancient—far older than Overseer Huang, perhaps the oldest person Jin had ever seen. His face was a map of wrinkles, each line telling stories of centuries lived. His eyes were clouded with age but somehow still sharp, seeing things that younger sight would miss. He wore robes so faded their original color was impossible to determine, and he moved with the careful precision of someone conserving energy for essential tasks.
His cultivation aura was… strange. Jin's senses registered him as Foundation Establishment, middle stages, but the reading felt incomplete. Like seeing only part of a larger picture, the rest hidden behind veils he couldn't penetrate.
"Wei Jin," Master Ma said, the name emerging like a pronouncement. "Agricultural Division. Peak Qi Gathering for one year, three months, and seventeen days. Seeking advancement through understanding." His clouded eyes fixed on Jin with unsettling accuracy. "Tell me—why do you believe the Alchemy Division can help you?"
Jin had prepared for this question. "Foundation Establishment requires transformation, not just accumulation. The Alchemy Division specializes in transformation—understanding how substances change from one state to another. I hope that studying these principles will give me the insight I lack."
"Insight." Master Ma rolled the word around his mouth like a pill being examined for quality. "A popular word among those seeking breakthrough. But insight cannot be given—it must be discovered. What makes you believe you'll discover it here rather than anywhere else?"
This question Jin had not prepared for. He considered his answer carefully.
"My cultivation has always been… unusual," he said finally. "I advance through optimization—finding the most efficient path and following it precisely. But efficiency alone hasn't been enough to reach Foundation Establishment. I need a different approach. A new way of understanding cultivation itself."
"And you believe alchemy will provide this new understanding?"
"I believe that studying transformation might show me what I've been missing. How things become other things. How one state gives way to another." Jin paused, organizing his thoughts. "My agricultural background taught me about growth—how seeds become plants, how small things become large things through patient nurturing. But Foundation Establishment isn't about growth. It's about becoming something fundamentally different than what you were."
Master Ma was silent for a long moment. His clouded eyes seemed to look through Jin rather than at him, examining something beyond ordinary perception.
"You have a peculiar spiritual signature," the old librarian said finally. "Your cultivation is… orderly. Precise. Like a garden where every plant grows in perfect rows, every element measured and controlled." He tilted his head. "Most cultivators are messier. Their spiritual energy carries the marks of struggle, of trial and error, of lessons learned through failure. Yours suggests a different path—one of systematic refinement rather than chaotic growth."
Jin said nothing. The observation cut too close to truths he had never shared with anyone.
"Interesting." Master Ma turned and began walking deeper into the library, his steps slow but steady. "Come. I may have something that will help you."
—————
They climbed for what felt like hours.
The library's internal geography defied logic—staircases that curved in impossible directions, corridors that stretched and compressed depending on how one approached them, sections that existed in states Jin's senses couldn't fully comprehend. Master Ma navigated this labyrinth with the casual familiarity of long residence, never hesitating at junctions that would have left Jin hopelessly lost.
"The Repository was built over seven hundred years," the old librarian explained as they walked. "Each successive generation added their own contributions without regard for what came before. The result is… architecturally distinctive."
"How do disciples find what they're looking for?"
"They ask me." Master Ma's voice held dry humor. "Or they spend years learning the patterns. Most choose the former."
They finally stopped before a section that felt different from the rest—older, somehow, and more deliberately organized. The shelves here held not jade slips but actual books, their bindings crafted from materials Jin couldn't identify.
Master Ma reached up with one gnarled hand and extracted a volume from a shelf just above his head. The book was thin, perhaps fifty pages, bound in leather that had darkened with age to almost black. Characters on its spine had worn away to illegibility.
"The Flowing Foundation Method," Master Ma said, holding the book as if it were infinitely precious. "Mid-grade Foundation Building technique. It was developed three centuries ago by a disciple who faced challenges similar to yours—exceptional efficiency in lower realms, but difficulty achieving the insight needed for advancement."
Jin accepted the book with careful reverence. Even through the aged binding, he could sense the spiritual energy contained within—knowledge condensed into form, waiting to be absorbed.
"This technique complements the Azure cultivation methods," Master Ma continued. "The breathing patterns are similar. The circulation routes follow compatible philosophies. If your previous advancement was based on the Azure Harmonization Method, this should integrate smoothly."
"How did you know what method I practiced?"
Master Ma's clouded eyes crinkled with something approaching amusement. "I am the librarian, young cultivator. Knowing things is rather the point."
Jin opened the book carefully, examining the first pages. The characters were written in an older script that required concentration to parse, but the meaning was clear enough. This was indeed a Foundation Building technique—designed specifically for the transition from peak Qi Gathering to the Foundation Establishment realm.
"Study it thoroughly before attempting practice," Master Ma advised. "The technique is not particularly difficult to learn, but misapplication at your stage could destabilize your cultivation base. Take at least a week to understand the principles before beginning active cultivation."
"Thank you, Master Ma. I don't know how to repay this kindness."
"Help others as I have helped you, when you have the ability to do so." The old librarian turned back toward the deeper library. "That is how debts of knowledge are repaid. Now—you have an evaluation to complete, and I have shelves to maintain. Chen Mei will be waiting for you at the entrance."
He walked away, disappearing between shelves with the same silent grace he had appeared.
Jin stood alone in the ancient section, holding a book that might contain the key to his advancement, and felt something he hadn't experienced in over a year.
Hope.
—————
The evaluation was surprisingly straightforward.
Jin demonstrated his cultivation base for a panel of three Foundation Establishment elders, answered questions about his background and intentions, and submitted to a spiritual assessment that probed his meridians and dantian with uncomfortable thoroughness. The elders seemed more interested in his unusual advancement speed than concerned about any deficiencies.
"Peak Qi Gathering in twelve years," the senior evaluator mused, reviewing Jin's records on a jade slip. "With three-colored low-grade roots. Either you're lying about your roots, or you've discovered something unusual about cultivation."
"My roots were tested by sect-certified assessors," Jin replied. "I have simply worked hard and been fortunate in my practice."
"Fortunate." The evaluator's tone suggested skepticism. "Well. Your provisional status is approved. You'll have access to the outer library sections and the basic cultivation grounds. Assignment to a teaching elder will be determined within the week."
Jin bowed his acceptance and departed, the Flowing Foundation Method book secured carefully in his robes.
—————
The week that followed was consumed by study.
Jin approached the new technique with the same systematic methodology that had defined his entire cultivation journey. He read the book three times in its entirety, absorbing the overall structure before focusing on specific details. He memorized the breathing patterns, visualized the circulation routes, and analyzed the philosophical underpinnings that distinguished this method from his previous practice.
The Flowing Foundation Method was indeed compatible with Azure Harmonization, as Master Ma had promised. Both techniques emphasized smooth, continuous energy flow rather than the sharp, forceful approaches favored by combat-oriented cultivators. Both valued precision over power, efficiency over raw accumulation.
But where Azure Harmonization focused on gathering and refining spiritual energy, the Flowing Foundation Method addressed transformation. Its core principle was what the text called "directed metamorphosis"—the deliberate reshaping of one's cultivation base from a collection of refined qi into an integrated foundation that could support higher realms of advancement.
On the seventh day, Jin felt ready to begin.
He sat in his usual cultivation position, the courtyard quiet around him, his family sleeping peacefully in the rooms beyond. Lin Mei knew he was attempting something new—she had watched him study with the intensity that preceded every major advancement. She had simply kissed his forehead and told him she believed in him.
Jin closed his eyes and began the Flowing Foundation Method's initial circulation.
The breathing pattern was similar to Azure Harmonization but subtly different—slower rhythms, deeper draws, extended holds that allowed spiritual energy to permeate more thoroughly before release. His qi responded to the familiar-yet-new pattern with cautious interest, flowing along pathways it had traveled countless times but in configurations it had never experienced.
The circulation routes were more complex than his previous practice. Where Azure Harmonization had focused on the primary meridians, the Flowing Foundation Method incorporated secondary channels that Jin had barely used before. Energy spread through his body in unfamiliar patterns, touching points that had lain dormant throughout his cultivation career.
And then the tracker activated.
[Azure Harmonization Method - Current Efficiency: 100%][Flowing Foundation Method - Current Efficiency: 12%]
Jin's heart leaped. A new line. A new measurement. The efficiency tracker had recognized the additional technique and begun its familiar assessment.
Twelve percent. Terrible by the standards he had achieved with Azure Harmonization, but the number meant everything. It meant the tracker was still functioning. It meant he could optimize this technique as he had optimized the last. It meant the path forward was open, even if the journey would be long.
He continued his practice, noting the subtle feedback the tracker provided—which elements felt more natural, which adjustments might improve the flow, which aspects of the technique needed the most development.
By dawn, he had increased his efficiency to 14%.
Small progress. Insignificant compared to his mastery of Azure Harmonization. But progress nonetheless.
Jin opened his eyes to find sunlight streaming through the courtyard, birds singing in Lin Mei's herb garden, and his son Wei Feng standing in the doorway watching him with curious eyes.
"Did it work?" the boy asked. "The new technique?"
"It's working," Jin replied, rising from his meditation with the careful movements of someone who had been still for hours. "Slowly, but it's working."
"Mother said you've been stuck for a year." Wei Feng's voice held no judgment, only the direct honesty of childhood. "She said even you get stuck sometimes."
"Even me." Jin smiled, ruffling his son's hair as he walked past. "But getting stuck isn't the same as staying stuck. Remember that."
"I will." Wei Feng fell into step beside him, already chattering about the beetle he'd caught the previous day and his plans for expanding his collection. Normal life, continuing its normal rhythms, while Jin quietly worked toward transformations that might change everything.
—————
The assignment to a teaching elder came three days later.
Jin was summoned to a cultivation hall high on the Alchemy Peak's southern face, where the morning sun provided warmth and illumination for the delicate work of medicine preparation. The hall was smaller than he expected—perhaps thirty feet square, with worktables arranged in a semicircle around a central demonstration area.
A single figure awaited him.
Master Lu was a woman of apparent middle age—perhaps forty or fifty, though cultivation made such estimates meaningless. Her face was stern but not unkind, with high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and eyes that held the deep focus of someone who had spent decades studying minute details. Her hair was gray-streaked black, pulled back in a severe bun that emphasized the sharp angles of her features.
She wore the formal robes of a peak Foundation Building elder, deep blue fabric embroidered with silver patterns depicting medicinal herbs and flowing water. Her spiritual aura pressed against Jin's senses with the unmistakable weight of someone who had fully established their cultivation foundation and refined it for decades afterward.
"Wei Jin," she said, her voice carrying the clipped precision of someone who valued efficiency in all things. "Agricultural Division background. Peak Qi Gathering. Seeking to learn alchemy as a path to Foundation Establishment."
"Yes, Master Lu."
"An unusual approach. Most who seek advancement focus on combat techniques or pure cultivation methods. Alchemy is rarely seen as a vehicle for breakthrough." Her eyes studied him with professional assessment. "What draws you to this path?"
Jin had considered this question during his days of study. "Transformation," he replied. "Foundation Establishment requires becoming something fundamentally different than what I currently am. Alchemy is the art of transformation—understanding how substances change, how one thing becomes another. I hope that studying these principles will provide the insight I need."
"Transformation." Master Lu nodded slowly. "A reasonable analysis. But alchemy is not merely academic study—it is practical application. Theory without practice is empty. Practice without theory is blind." She gestured toward the worktables. "If you wish to learn from me, you will learn both."
"I understand, Master Lu."
"Do you? Understanding alchemy requires understanding plants—their properties, their interactions, their potential for both healing and harm." Her stern expression sharpened. "Your agricultural background provides a foundation, but medicine is not farming. The same plant that nourishes as food may kill as poison if prepared incorrectly. The same ingredient that heals in one combination may cause madness in another."
"I am prepared to learn."
"We shall see." Master Lu moved to one of the worktables, where an array of dried plants had been arranged in careful order. "Tell me what you see here."
Jin approached the table, his enhanced senses automatically analyzing the materials before him. Spirit herbs, certainly—he recognized perhaps half of them from his agricultural experience. The others were unfamiliar, their spiritual signatures subtle and complex.
"Silver Morning Grass," he identified, pointing to a bundle of pale leaves. "Used in cultivation enhancement pills. This appears to be Cloud-Stepping Vine—common in agility-focused elixirs. The white flowers are Snow Lotus, valuable for purification." He paused at an unfamiliar specimen—dark leaves with red veins that pulsed with contained energy. "I don't recognize this one."
"Heartfire Nightshade." Master Lu's voice held approval at his honesty. "Extremely toxic in its natural state. But properly processed, it becomes a key ingredient in pills that strengthen the spiritual heart—the center of a cultivator's willpower." She picked up the dangerous plant with casual confidence. "This is the essence of alchemy. Every substance has potential for both harm and benefit. Our art is knowing how to unlock one while avoiding the other."
Jin absorbed this principle, finding resonance with insights he had developed in his agricultural work. Plants were not inherently good or evil—they simply were. Their effects depended entirely on how they were cultivated, harvested, and used.
"You will begin with basic identification and preparation," Master Lu continued. "No pill refinement until you have demonstrated sufficient understanding of materials. I will not have my students blowing themselves up due to insufficient foundation."
"How long will the foundational training take?"
"That depends entirely on you." Master Lu's expression held the faintest hint of challenge. "Some students require years. Others learn more quickly. I have reviewed your records—your advancement speed suggests capacity for rapid learning. We shall see if that capacity extends to alchemy."
Jin bowed formally. "I will not disappoint you, Master Lu."
"See that you don't. We begin tomorrow at dawn. Do not be late."
She departed, leaving Jin alone in the cultivation hall with the array of plants and the weight of new knowledge to acquire.
He looked at the Heartfire Nightshade—beautiful and deadly, its potential locked within forms that could heal or harm depending on the hand that shaped them.
Transformation. The art of becoming something new.
Perhaps, in learning to transform these plants, he would finally understand how to transform himself.
—————
End of Chapter One, Book Two