The corpse vanished without trace.
Wei Jin had spent years developing methods for exactly this scenario—the disposal of remains that must never be discovered. The possessed elder's body was reduced to base components through a combination of alchemical dissolution and spiritual dispersal, the process leaving nothing that investigation could identify.
The war provided perfect cover.
Casualties arrived at the medical pavilion daily now, the conflict with the Thousand Beast Sect having escalated beyond the skirmishes of previous years. Disciples went missing. Elders fell in border conflicts. Strange deaths were attributed to beast attacks, enemy cultivation techniques, the thousand dangers that warfare produced.
One more disappearance attracted no attention.
Wei Jin returned to his routines with the composed efficiency that had characterized his entire cultivation journey. He treated patients. He refined pills. He taught his children. He maintained relationships that might prove valuable. And beneath this surface of productive normalcy, he processed the magnitude of what had occurred.
He had killed a peak Foundation possessor.
Not through overwhelming power—the elder had exceeded his cultivation by a full stage. Not through superior technique—centuries of experience should have given the ancient mind advantages that no decades of preparation could match. He had won through strategy, through preparation, through capabilities that the enemy had fundamentally misjudged.
His approach was correct.
The relief that accompanied this confirmation was profound. For years, Wei Jin had questioned whether his paranoid preparations were truly necessary or merely the obsessive responses of someone who had learned one terrifying truth and extrapolated dangers that might not exist. Now he knew. The dangers were real. His preparations were adequate. His strategy could work against even significantly stronger opponents.
[Azure Flowing Foundation Method - Current Efficiency: 100%][Subtle Mind Refinement - Current Efficiency: 100%]
The trackers pulsed their steady confirmation, both methods operating automatically, advancing his cultivation without conscious direction. The elder's gift—the Heavenly Root Transformation Lotus that had upgraded his fire root to mid-grade—continued paying dividends with every passing day. His advancement had accelerated dramatically since the enhancement, barriers that had previously required patient accumulation now yielding with surprising ease.
One month after the confrontation, Wei Jin broke through to late-stage Foundation Establishment.
The advancement came during a routine meditation session, the accumulated energy in his dantian finally exceeding the threshold that separated mid-Foundation from its later stages. His spiritual reserves expanded significantly. His techniques gained power. His perception sharpened to levels that made his previous capabilities seem crude by comparison.
Late-stage Foundation Establishment. A realm that most cultivators with his original spiritual roots never reached. A level of power that placed him among the upper echelons of the Alchemy Peak's disciples.
And still he remained cautious.
—————
The elder's gift had been genuine—that much was now undeniable. The Heavenly Root Transformation Lotus had provided exactly the benefits the ancient texts described, enhancing Wei Jin's cultivation foundation in ways that would compound over decades of future advancement.
But why?
The question haunted him during quiet moments, demanding answers that the dead possessor could no longer provide. Why give such a treasure to a target you intended to evaluate? Why enhance the capabilities of someone you might eventually attempt to seize?
Several possibilities presented themselves through careful analysis:
The possessor had intended to cultivate Wei Jin over time, the gift serving as both test and investment. A vessel with enhanced roots would be more valuable than one with limited potential. The ancient mind might have planned years of subtle guidance before eventual seizure—a long game that Wei Jin's unexpected resistance had disrupted.
Alternatively, the lotus might have contained tracking or observation capabilities that Wei Jin's analysis had failed to detect. The possessor might have intended to monitor his development from within, gathering information about his methods and defenses before striking at an optimal moment.
Or perhaps the gift reflected confidence born of centuries of success. The possessor had probably seized dozens of bodies over its long existence, each acquisition easier than the last. Giving a treasure to a prospective vessel might have seemed a minor investment, the outcome so certain that precaution seemed unnecessary.
Whatever the reasoning, the result favored Wei Jin enormously.
His fire root was now mid-grade. His cultivation was advancing faster than ever. And the threat that had provided these gifts was permanently eliminated.
He would not waste the opportunity.
—————
Ten Years of Patient Cultivation
The decade that followed was defined by systematic growth across every dimension of Wei Jin's existence.
His cultivation advanced steadily through the late stages of Foundation Establishment, the enhanced roots and automatic methods pushing him toward heights that had once seemed impossible. Each year brought measurable progress—spiritual reserves deepening, techniques refining, perception expanding. The tracker confirmed what his senses already knew: he was approaching the peak of Foundation, the threshold beyond which lay Golden Core and the truly immortal realms of cultivation.
[Azure Flowing Foundation Method - Current Efficiency: 100%][Subtle Mind Refinement - Current Efficiency: 100%]
Both methods continued their tireless operation, never pausing, never requiring conscious attention. The efficiency that had carried him from clumsy agricultural disciple to respected Foundation cultivator remained his greatest advantage—a secret weapon that competitors could neither detect nor replicate.
His skills expanded alongside his cultivation base.
The combat techniques he had added to his arsenal—Poison Breath, Fiery Slash, Earth Escape, Purple Eyes—had developed from uncertain experiments into refined capabilities. He could exhale toxins that would incapacitate cultivators a full stage above his level. His fire blade could cut through spiritual defenses that should have been impenetrable. His earth manipulation allowed escape routes that pursuit could not follow. His enhanced perception revealed details that even peak Foundation cultivators might miss.
His poison expertise had become legendary within certain circles. "Devil Doctor" was no longer a joke but a title of genuine respect, acknowledging capabilities that made him valuable to allies and dangerous to enemies. Disciples who faced unusual toxins, beast venoms, or alchemical contamination sought his treatment specifically. Elders who required discrete medical assistance valued his professionalism and discretion.
His wealth accumulated accordingly.
Spirit stones flowed into his accounts from multiple sources—medical fees, pill refinement contracts, consultation services, the sale of specialized compounds that only he could produce. He invested carefully, diversifying across sect-approved ventures and external opportunities that provided returns without attracting undue attention. The fortune he had built over twenty-four years in the sect now rivaled that of established families who had accumulated resources for generations.
His connections expanded with deliberate intention.
The networking that had begun as survival strategy had matured into a web of relationships spanning multiple divisions and hierarchies. He had allies in the medical pavilion, the alchemy refinement halls, the administrative sections, even the combat divisions that rarely interacted with healing-focused cultivators. Each relationship represented carefully cultivated mutual benefit—favors exchanged, debts established, loyalties earned through consistent reliability.
Power. Wealth. Connections.
The three pillars that determined survival in the cultivation world, all systematically accumulated over decades of patient effort.
—————
His family had grown alongside him.
Lin Mei had reached mid-level Foundation Establishment, her cultivation advancing with the steady progress that his guidance and the modified technique had enabled. At forty-two, she was stronger than she had ever imagined possible—a woman who had been sent to the sect as a disposable daughter, now a cultivator of genuine capability whose perception and judgment Wei Jin trusted absolutely.
Their partnership had deepened through the years, moving beyond the passionate intensity of early love into something more profound—a bond forged through shared challenges, mutual sacrifice, and the accumulated intimacy of decades spent building a life together. She knew him better than anyone, understood his cautions without requiring explanations, supported his preparations without demanding justifications she might not receive.
Wei Feng had exceeded every expectation.
At twenty-eight, Wei Jin's eldest son had achieved mid-level Foundation Establishment—remarkable progress for someone his age, even accounting for his four-colored mid-grade roots. The boy who had once chased beetles across their courtyard had become a man of genuine cultivation talent, his natural gifts refined through systematic training that had begun before he could walk.
Wei Feng had formally entered the sect eight years ago, his exceptional preparation giving him advantages that new disciples rarely possessed. He had risen quickly through the outer sect, his foundation allowing him to compete with disciples whose roots exceeded his own. Now he served in the combat division—a choice that had surprised Wei Jin initially but made sense upon reflection. His son had inherited Lin Mei's directness alongside Wei Jin's analytical nature, a combination that suited active engagement better than the patient observation that characterized his father's approach.
Wei Hua had reached early Foundation Establishment, her three-colored roots limiting her advancement but her determination compensating admirably. At thirty-one, the niece who had arrived terrified at their doorstep was now a confident woman whose cultivation exceeded what statistics suggested her roots should allow. She had specialized in agricultural techniques—returning to the field that had defined Wei Jin's own early development, but with knowledge and training that made her work far more effective than his had been.
Wei Lan had broken through to Foundation as well, her fifteen years of systematic training producing results that vindicated every hour of instruction. At twenty-five, she combined her father's caution with her mother's warmth, approaching cultivation with the balanced perspective that Wei Jin hoped would serve her well in decades to come.
Even Wei Yun, the youngest at seventeen, had reached level seven Qi Gathering—approaching the threshold of advancement that would eventually carry her to Foundation herself. The daughter born during the darkest period of Wei Jin's paranoid preparations was growing into a cultivator whose potential remained undefined but promising.
Four children at Foundation Establishment. One approaching it rapidly. A wife whose cultivation matched most senior disciples.
The Wei family had become something that Wei Jin's clumsy six-year-old self could never have imagined—a cultivation lineage of genuine strength, protected by resources and connections that most families spent generations accumulating.
—————
The Summit of Patience
Wei Jin stood at the window of his private study—a room that had expanded considerably over the years, now occupying an entire floor of the residence complex he had purchased a decade ago. The view encompassed much of the Alchemy Peak's eastern slopes, cultivation grounds and refinement halls spreading below like a map of the power structure he had learned to navigate.
Forty years old. Peak late-stage Foundation Establishment. Respected healer. Formidable alchemist. Wealthy patron. Connected networker.
The titles accumulated like spiritual energy, each one representing investments of time and effort that had compounded over decades. He was no longer the frightened agricultural disciple who had hidden his cultivation progress for fear of attracting attention. He was a figure of genuine influence, whose opinions were sought on matters of division policy, whose support was courted by disciples seeking advancement, whose opposition was carefully avoided by those who understood the weight behind his pleasant demeanor.
[Azure Flowing Foundation Method - Current Efficiency: 100%][Subtle Mind Refinement - Current Efficiency: 100%]
The trackers continued their eternal pulse, the automatic cultivation that had defined his journey from the beginning still operating at perfect efficiency. His spiritual reserves had grown vast, his mental cultivation approaching levels that even peak Foundation cultivators rarely achieved. The gap between his apparent capabilities and his true potential remained his greatest secret—a hidden edge that he revealed only when survival demanded.
The possessed Han Wei continued his performance.
Ten years of observation had confirmed that Master Wu—or whatever the ancient consciousness called itself—remained patient in its disguise. The being wearing Han Wei's face still attended training group meetings, still pretended to struggle with Golden Core breakthrough, still gathered information through relationships that none of his colleagues suspected were compromised.
Wei Jin had not confronted it. Had not revealed his knowledge. Had not done anything that might alert the possessor to his awareness.
Instead, he had prepared.
His mental defenses now exceeded anything short of Golden Core assault. His poison expertise included compounds designed specifically for cultivators whose spiritual bodies had been compromised by possession. His perception capabilities could detect the subtle signatures of body seizure with reliability that approached certainty.
When the time came—if it ever came—he would be ready.
—————
The war with the Thousand Beast Sect had evolved over the decade.
The initial border skirmishes had expanded into sustained conflict, then contracted into uneasy stalemate as both sides recognized the costs of continued aggression. The Golden Sword Sect's diplomatic efforts had eventually produced an armistice—not peace, but the absence of active warfare that allowed trade and cultivation to resume.
The modified beasts that had concerned Wei Jin years ago had become a known threat, their alchemical enhancements attributed to rogue practitioners rather than the systematic program he suspected. The Thousand Beast Sect had publicly condemned such modifications, distancing themselves from evidence that might have justified escalated retaliation.
Politics within politics. Schemes within schemes. The cultivation world operating according to rules that surface observers rarely perceived.
Wei Jin had used the decade of conflict productively.
His medical contributions during the war years had established his reputation beyond the Alchemy Peak. Combat divisions that had never interacted with healing-focused cultivators now recognized his name. Disciples who had been saved by his treatments remembered the debt. Officers who had relied on his poison expertise for defensive applications valued his discretion.
The connections formed during crisis proved more durable than those cultivated in peacetime. Shared danger created bonds that mere networking could not match.
—————
The morning brought visitors.
Wei Jin descended from his study to find Zhao Ping and Wen Lihua waiting in the reception hall, their expressions holding the warmth that two decades of friendship had developed. The training group had changed over the years—members advancing, departing, being replaced—but these two had remained constants, their relationships with Wei Jin deepening beyond mere professional alliance.
"The Elders are discussing your nomination again," Zhao Ping announced, his round face creased with a grin that had grown more distinguished with age but lost none of its warmth. At fifty-two, the cheerful alchemist had reached late-stage Foundation Establishment, his intuitive refinement style finally producing the consistent excellence that his natural talent had always promised.
"Nomination for what?" Wei Jin asked, though he already suspected the answer.
"Division Council." Wen Lihua's voice held barely suppressed excitement. At forty-five, Wen Changpu's distant cousin had become a valued ally whose beast medicine specialty complemented Wei Jin's poison expertise perfectly. "They want to appoint you as the medical representative. Apparently, your 'broad expertise and political neutrality' make you an ideal candidate."
Political neutrality. Wei Jin appreciated the characterization, even as he recognized its strategic convenience. He had deliberately avoided faction alignments over the years, maintaining relationships across ideological divides without committing to any particular camp. This neutrality was not indifference but calculation—the preservation of options that commitment would foreclose.
"I'll consider it," he said carefully.
"Consider it?" Zhao Ping laughed. "Jin, this is exactly what you've been building toward. The Council provides access to resources and information that regular disciples never receive. Your influence would multiply significantly."
"Influence attracts attention." Wei Jin's voice was mild. "Attention creates vulnerabilities."
"You've been saying that for twenty years." Wen Lihua shook her head with fond exasperation. "At some point, the caution becomes excessive. You're already one of the most respected cultivators in our generation. Hiding that prominence is no longer possible."
She was right, of course. Wei Jin's accumulation of power, wealth, and connections had reached levels that natural concealment could not address. He was known. He was watched. His movements and decisions attracted interest from parties both friendly and otherwise.
The low-key approach that had served him during vulnerability was becoming less viable as his strength grew.
Perhaps it was time to embrace visibility rather than resist it.
"I'll meet with the nominating elders," he said finally. "No commitments, but I'll hear their proposal."
Zhao Ping's grin widened. "That's the spirit. Finally accepting that you've become someone important."
"Importance is a burden," Wei Jin replied. "But one I'm apparently no longer able to avoid."
—————
That evening, he sat with Lin Mei in their private quarters, discussing the nomination and its implications.
"You've earned this," Lin Mei said, her mid-Foundation cultivation allowing her to participate in conversations that would have exceeded her comprehension years ago. "Everything you've built, all the relationships you've cultivated—this is the natural culmination."
"Natural culmination implies an endpoint." Wei Jin stared at the ceiling, his thoughts wandering through decades of accumulated experience. "I'm not sure I'm ready to stop climbing."
"Council membership isn't an endpoint. It's a platform." Lin Mei's voice held the practical wisdom that had always balanced his analytical tendencies. "From that position, you can influence policies, access resources, protect interests that matter to you. Including our family."
The argument was sound. The Division Council oversaw allocation of cultivation resources, approval of research initiatives, and management of external relations. Members received information about sect activities that regular disciples never learned. They participated in decisions that shaped the Alchemy Peak's direction for years or decades.
All advantages that someone with Wei Jin's concerns should value.
But visibility came with costs. Council members were scrutinized. Their backgrounds were investigated. Their connections were mapped and analyzed.
What would investigation reveal about Wei Jin?
His surface credentials were impeccable—decades of excellence, clean record, valuable contributions. But beneath that surface lay secrets that investigation must never uncover. The efficiency tracker that guided his cultivation. His awareness of possessors walking the sect's halls. His elimination of the elder whose body had never been found.
Exposure of any of these truths would be catastrophic.
"I need assurances," he said finally. "Limitations on the investigation that accompanies nomination. Protections for aspects of my history that remain… sensitive."
"Can you obtain such assurances?"
"I have connections among those who will conduct the investigation." Wei Jin's voice was calculating. "Favors owed. Debts uncalled. This might be the appropriate moment to collect."
Lin Mei nodded understanding. "You've been preparing for this moment, even if you didn't know it."
"I've been preparing for every moment." Wei Jin smiled slightly. "The habit is difficult to break."
"Don't break it." Lin Mei took his hand. "That habit has kept us alive. Kept our children safe. Whatever prominence you achieve, never stop preparing."
"Never." The promise came easily because it was true. No amount of success would make him forget the lessons that failure had taught. No accumulation of power would convince him that vigilance was unnecessary.
The shadow war continued, even if its battles were invisible.
And Wei Jin would remain ready for whatever came next.
—————
The nomination meeting occurred three days later.
Wei Jin presented himself to the senior elders who oversaw Council appointments, his demeanor projecting the humble competence that had served him for decades. They asked questions about his qualifications, his philosophy, his vision for the medical division's future development. He answered with appropriate balance of confidence and deference.
The investigation that followed was thorough but manageable.
His prepared contacts ensured that certain questions were not asked. His careful record-keeping provided answers that satisfied curiosity without revealing truth. His reputation preceded him, smoothing pathways that might otherwise have presented obstacles.
Within a month, his appointment was confirmed.
Division Council Member Wei Jin. Medical Representative. A voice in decisions that shaped the Alchemy Peak's direction.
He accepted the position with the measured gratitude that the occasion demanded, while internally cataloging the new opportunities and risks that it presented.
More access. More information. More influence.
But also more scrutiny. More expectations. More obligations that might conflict with priorities he could never abandon.
The balance would require constant attention.
But balance had always been Wei Jin's strength.
—————
End of Chapter Nine, Book Two
—————