The air inside the Sect Master's carriage felt stifling. The expensive incense tried to cover the lingering scent of medicinal waste. Beneath it all, Shi Ran could sense another smell: the sickly sweet nature of Yao Guang's arrogant authority. Shi Ran stood with his head bowed and hands clasped, appearing like a perfect and obedient disciple. His reflection in the smooth wood of the carriage wall showed a young man whose face wore a mask of dull submission.
"The funeral was boring," Yao Guang said, not speaking to Shi Ran but aiming his words at him. He set his teacup down with a sharp sound. "It wasted a day that could have been spent improving ourselves. Still, it was necessary for politics. Did you see the Chen Family's heir, Arya Chen?"
"Yes, Master," Shi Ran replied, his voice flat and lifeless. He had seen Arya Chen's commanding presence and the warmth he shared with the Su Family's daughter as they stood close. He had seen a man who was loved, respected, and, most painfully, free. He had seen everything he lacked.
"He is a threat," Yao Guang's voice turned icy. "The Chen Family's skill in high-grade alchemy is the only barrier to our complete control of the domain's pill market. They hide their secrets while we serve the masses. They are a relic, but a dangerous one." His eyes narrowed, fixing Shi Ran in place. "Your performance shows this sect's strength. Your success rate with the Soul-Nourishing Pill is a pathetic forty percent. That is unacceptable. Starting tomorrow, you will not leave the refinement chamber until you reach a sixty percent success rate. Do you understand?"
It was a heavy chain that had bound him for seventeen years.
"Yes, Master," Shi Ran said. His fists, hidden in the long sleeves of his plain robe, clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, his nails biting into his palms.
"Work harder."
The words echoed in the empty corners of his mind. It was all Yao Guang ever said. For seventeen years, his life had been filled with fire and cauldrons. While other disciples trained in the sunlit grounds, he toiled in a dark refinement chamber, meticulously creating pills he would never be allowed to consume. While they received praise, resources, and the chance to follow their own paths, he faced only punishments for failure and rising quotas for success.
Yao Guang called him his disciple. On rare occasions, he would even refer to him as his son, wearing a benevolent smile while recounting the story of his "rescue." He had saved him, he always claimed. He found Shi Ran in the wilderness after his parents were tragically killed by a wild beast.
He was a liar.
A monster hiding behind a facade of kindness.
The memory from three months ago felt like a fresh wound. He could see the face of the old man who was dying in his home village, tears and regret etched in every feature. He had been his father's sworn brother, a man whose guilt finally outweighed his fear.
"It wasn't a beast, little Ran," he had wheezed, grasping Shi Ran's arm with a bony hand. "It was him. It was Yao Guang. Your parents… they tested your talent. You were a once-in-a-millennium alchemy prodigy. They planned to take you to the Chen Family for a better future. But Yao Guang found out. He coveted your talent. He came to them at night… he offered them a place in his sect. When they refused… he killed them. He made it look like a beast attack and took you as his prize."
In that moment, his world shattered. Seventeen years of his life, seventeen years of grateful service to the man he thought had saved him, turned out to be a monstrous lie. Yao Guang was not his savior. He was his parents' murderer. He was his jailer. Every single pill he refined, every drop of sweat and spiritual energy he poured into Yao Guang's cauldrons, desecrated his parents' memory.
The rage within him was alive, a coiled serpent of pure hatred that grew stronger with each breath he took in Yao Guang's presence. It took every ounce of control to keep it from bursting out of him, to maintain the mask of obedience. He wanted to scream. He wanted to gather all his power and incinerate the man across from him, to watch his smug expression turn to ashes.
But he felt helpless. He was at the Peak of Foundation Establishment, a level he had only reached because it was the minimum needed to safely refine the high-grade pills Yao Guang required. His master had given him just enough resources to break through but had forbidden him from consuming any pill that could help him advance to Golden Core. He was perfectly shaped for his task and then locked away, never allowed to become a weapon capable of threatening its owner. Against a Peak Golden Core expert, a sect master with many loyal elders at his command, he was insignificant. The gap between them was an ocean. Any move he made could lead to his death. A pointless death, with his parents' murder unavenged.
So he stood there, head bowed, his voice drained of all emotion. "Yes, Master. I will not disappoint you."
And he despised himself for it. He hated his weakness, his cowardice. Each night he dreamed of revenge. He envisioned a fire consuming the entire Spirit Cauldron Sect, a poison strong enough to turn Yao Guang's smug face black and his soul to dust, and a blade that would finally give him justice.
But those were just dreams. His reality was a cage. He felt completely trapped. All he could do was wait, hate, and hope for an opportunity, for a miracle, for a power that could give him the strength to kill a god.
The carriage finally stopped. They had returned to the Spirit Cauldron Sect. Without another word, Yao Guang stepped out of the carriage, leaving Shi Ran to follow silently like a shadow.
He went back to his "room," which was more of a stone cell connected to the main refinement chambers. It contained a hard wooden bed, a small table, and nothing more. It was a room for a prisoner, not a disciple. He walked into the adjoining refinement chamber, filled with the familiar heat and pungent scent of alchemy. His daily quota was still unmet.
He sat in front of a large cauldron, his actions automatic. He fed the fire underneath it, his face blank. He started opening the containers of precious herbs and all the ingredients for the Soul-Nourishing Pill. Each herb was worth a fortune outside. For him, they were just another set of chains.
As he was about to begin the refinement process, ready to pour his essence into a product that would only strengthen his enemy, a voice echoed in the silent chamber of his mind.
[Mortal soul, rejoice! Your destiny has arrived!]
Shi Ran froze, his hand halting over a stalk of Crimson Sun Grass. He scanned the empty chamber. The only sound was the crackle of the cauldron's fire.
[You have been chosen by a will that transcends dimensions. A supreme treasure, forged in the crucible of primordial chaos by a being beyond the reach of universal law, has found its vessel.]
A translucent blue screen appeared before his eyes, its light soft and ethereal in the dim room.
His first reaction was weary suspicion. This had to be a trick. An illusion created by Yao Guang to test his loyalty, to see if he would grasp at false hope. The man was that paranoid.
"Master Yao," Shi Ran said aloud, his voice flat while projecting it toward the empty corners of the room. "If this is a test, you have your answer. My loyalty to the sect is unwavering. I will continue my refinement now."
The voice in his head kept speaking.
[This is no test. This is the key to your vengeance. This is the path to your freedom. This is the Pill Essence Extraction System.]
The word "vengeance" hit him hard. It was the one word that could break through his numb sense of obedience. He stared at the screen, his heart starting to pound heavily.
[Do you accept this gift? Do you want to claim the power to right the wrongs done to you, to make your enemies pay back a thousand times over?]
[ACCEPT] / [DECLINE]
He looked at the flashing words. It could still be a trap. A cruel illusion. But what if it wasn't? What if, after all his desperate prayers, the heavens had finally answered? The hope felt like a spark in the vast darkness of his soul, a tiny flame that was scary in its potential warmth.
He was a man with nothing to lose except his hatred, and this mysterious power offered to turn that hatred into a weapon.
He focused his will, a lifetime of repressed rage and sorrow driving his decision. [ACCEPT.]
The screen flashed.
[Host confirmed. Binding the Pill Essence Extraction System to the soul… 100%. Binding complete. Welcome, Host Shi Ran.]
A warm current surged through him, so strong it made him gasp. It felt like a missing piece of his soul had just fallen into place.