The courtyard behind the alchemy room was alive with a soft hum. The faint glow of formation lines spread across the earth, weaving through neat rows of planters filled with vibrant herbs. Some plants shimmered faintly with elemental light—tiny sparks dancing over flame-aspect sprigs, a cool mist curling around water-aspect moss.
Haotian was at the center, crouched over a formation node, brushing a fresh rune into the soil with delicate precision. His hair fell loose around his face, his focus so complete he didn't notice the four figures approaching from the estate's ancestral wing.
Yangshen, Yuying, Jinhai, and Meiyun walked side by side, their robes whispering over the flagstones. Their eyes scanned the scene, each expression shifting as they took in the sight.
Yangshen's gaze lingered on the runes etched into the formation lines. "These aren't copied from any manual I know of."
"They're modified from a basic spirit-gathering array," Jinhai murmured, leaning forward slightly. "But the flow is… distributed. Balanced. It's designed to feed all of these plants evenly."
Meiyun's attention went to the planters. "These herbs… some are rare even for the guild. How did he cultivate them so quickly?"
Yuying's eyes softened, but there was a glint of surprise in them. "He's nine," she said quietly. "And yet…"
It was then that Haotian finally noticed them. He stood quickly, brushing soil from his hands, bowing deeply. "Grandfather, Ancestors."
The four exchanged a glance before stepping closer. Yangshen's voice was calm, but tinged with genuine curiosity. "We came to see what you've been working on. Wuhen tells us… your ideas are bold."
"Not just ideas," Haotian said, straightening. "I've been testing them."
He led them into the alchemy room. On the main worktable sat a row of porcelain jars, each sealed with wax and marked with neat labels. Haotian broke the seal on one, revealing a small batch of pale gold pills.
"These are lesser healing pills," he explained. "Perfect rank. I adjusted the brewing process so they lose less potency during cooling."
The Ancestors leaned in. The pills were uniform in size, smooth-surfaced, their faint medicinal aroma clean and balanced.
"And these," Haotian continued, opening another jar, "are cultivation pills. I've only made a small batch—they're strong, but I don't want to rely on them too much because of pill poison."
Jinhai picked up one pill and turned it in his fingers, nodding slowly. "Not a single flaw in the shape or surface. And the color… perfect balance of ingredients."
Meiyun's gaze moved from the pills back to the courtyard. "And you grew some of the ingredients yourself, using the formations?"
"Yes," Haotian said, his eyes bright. "It's faster, and I can adjust the elemental affinity of the herbs."
That drew a ripple of surprise among the four.
"Adjust their affinity?" Yangshen asked sharply.
Haotian nodded. "That's what I'm working on next."
The courtyard fell silent for a moment as the Ancestors exchanged glances—four minds, each calculating the implications in their own way.
Yangshen was the first to break the silence. His eyes, sharp as polished steel, fixed on Haotian."Explain this affinity theory of yours. From the beginning."
Haotian straightened, the faint nervousness of being scrutinized by four Ancestors eclipsed by his excitement to speak on the subject. "Most people believe that a cultivator's elemental affinity is fixed from birth—fire, water, earth, wood, or metal. Some have dual affinities, rare cases have none. But I've studied enough old cultivation records to think otherwise. Those with 'no affinity' might not be empty… they might be unshaped. Like a blank scroll."
Yuying leaned forward. "You think those 'blank scrolls' can be written on?"
"Yes," Haotian replied without hesitation. "And not just through natural environment over decades. If a person is placed in a controlled cultivation chamber—sealed, with the air saturated by the ambient qi of elemental herbs—then over time, their meridians could align to that element. Or…" He paused, his gaze sweeping across them, "become adaptable to all elements."
Jinhai's brows rose. "Adaptable?"
Haotian nodded. "If the herbs inside the chamber cycle through all five elemental types, and the qi flow is balanced through a shifting formation pattern, the cultivator could develop meridians flexible enough to channel any element without conflict."
Meiyun's lips curved faintly, though her eyes were intent. "And you think you can build such a chamber here?"
"I've already drawn the designs," Haotian said, pulling out a rolled parchment from his sleeve and spreading it across the table. Complex formation lines spiraled around a central circle, with shelves marked for herb placement, ventilation shafts for controlled airflow, and a network of qi-guiding nodes designed to shift alignment in timed phases. He began explaining every section in meticulous detail—how the qi flow would be stabilized, how herbs of opposite elements would be buffered with neutral plants, how the chamber walls would be engraved with alternating yang and yin runes to prevent overload.
The Ancestors listened in absolute silence, their expressions unreadable. To them, the logic was flawless. But to anyone without their knowledge, the torrent of technical terms and formation schematics would have sounded like an entirely new language.
Yangshen exhaled slowly, a rare sign of genuine astonishment. "To most, this would sound like wild speculation. But to us…" He glanced at the others. "It makes sense."
"A genius at the frontier," Yuying murmured, almost to herself.
They exchanged a silent nod, the decision made.
"Very well," Jinhai said at last. "We will not only allow you to proceed, but we will assign additional servants to assist. This project will require more than just your hands."
Within the hour, four more servants were brought to the courtyard, each given specific instructions by Haotian—some to prepare the herb planters, others to help carve the formation lines into the ground. The air was soon filled with the sounds of scraping stone, rustling soil, and the faint hum of the partially active arrays.
The Ancestors remained in the courtyard, standing at the edge like silent sentinels. None spoke as they watched Haotian work—adjusting runes with tiny strokes, repositioning herb trays with precise angles, checking the qi flow at each node.
By late afternoon, the chamber's skeletal frame was complete, the first test run only hours away. The Ancestors did not leave. They intended to see, with their own eyes, whether this boy's theory would remain a dream… or step into reality.
The courtyard fell silent except for the faint rustle of leaves inside the newly built cultivation chamber. The Ancestors stood at a respectful distance as Haotian stepped through the carved wooden door and sat cross-legged in the center, surrounded by carefully arranged trays of elemental herbs.
At his signal, the servants activated the formation. Lines etched into the floor pulsed with light, the glow traveling outward to the walls before circling back in. The air shifted—first warm, tinged with a faint scent of phoenix root, then cool and damp with the fragrance of moon dew moss. The qi flowed in waves, changing in tone and color with each pulse.
Haotian closed his eyes and began cycling his Heaven-Sundered Trinity Scripture. At once, the ambient elemental qi surged toward him. Instead of resisting or rejecting opposing elements, his meridians seemed to drink them all in—fire, water, earth, wood, metal—each settling into balance. His breathing deepened; the chamber's glow reflected off his skin.
Outside, the Ancestors exchanged glances. Even they hadn't expected the reaction to be so smooth.
Minutes passed. The steady rhythm of his breathing never broke, but his cultivation aura climbed—slowly at first, then exponentially faster. Threads of qi wrapped around him like streams converging on a single lake.
After thirty minutes, the formation dimmed. Haotian opened his eyes, rising in one smooth motion. He stepped out into the sunlight, an almost electric energy in his movements.
Clenching his small hand into a fist, he struck forward. A burst of fire roared from his knuckles, spiraling into the air. Without pause, he thrust his other hand downward; the earth beneath a nearby planter cracked as a jagged shard of stone shot upward.
He stared at his hands in wonder, then grinned wide. "It worked!"
The Ancestors were still. Yangshen's gaze was sharp, but a hint of astonishment flickered in it. Yuying's lips parted slightly, as if caught between a smile and disbelief. Jinhai crossed his arms, nodding once. Meiyun's eyes glimmered with a rare mix of approval and unease.
To them, it wasn't just a child's breakthrough—it was proof that Haotian had stepped into uncharted territory.
In the quiet of the ancestral wing, the four Ancestors gathered around the low obsidian table. Incense smoke curled lazily between them, carrying the faint scent of sandalwood. The echoes of Haotian's display in the courtyard still lingered in their minds.
Yangshen was the first to speak. "What we witnessed… was not just cultivation progress. That child absorbed all five elemental qi types without rejection. Even the most versatile cultivators suffer imbalance when attempting that."
Jinhai leaned back slightly, arms folded. "It means he can adapt to any battlefield, any opponent. If this method is refined, it could be taught. An army that can switch affinities mid-battle—" He stopped, a faint chill running through his tone. "—that would be a force unmatched in history."
Yuying's gaze was thoughtful but edged with caution. "The risk is obvious. If word spreads, every major sect, clan, and kingdom will seek this technique—or the boy himself. The Zhenlong family would become both a target and a power no one could ignore."
Meiyun tapped the table lightly, her voice calm but decisive. "Then it cannot spread. Not yet. We will watch him, guide him in secret. But his progress must be monitored closely. Genius can build an empire… or bring it to ruin."
Yangshen nodded. "Agreed. But I will say this—his formation theory, if applied to cultivation chambers on a large scale, could alter the balance of power in this world. That is not an exaggeration."
For a moment, silence hung between them, the weight of the future pressing in.
Finally, Yuying broke it with a small smile. "We left him to his own devices for too long. Now, I think, it is time we make certain the boy knows his family is watching."
The others inclined their heads in agreement.
Far away in the courtyard, Haotian was still brimming with excitement over his new abilities, unaware that his small experiment had just set the Zhenlong Ancestors on a path of deeper involvement—and that his work now carried the weight of a family's future.
The Ancestors began their mentorship slowly, almost imperceptibly to the rest of the estate. To the servants, it looked like chance encounters—Yangshen offering a small correction while passing by the courtyard, Meiyun appearing at the forge with a "suggestion," Yuying watching his alchemy practice with an approving nod, Jinhai offering feedback on his formation lines.
In truth, they were observing everything.
And what they saw pushed their expectations higher with each passing day.
The Skills That Stunned Them
Haotian's alchemy was already precise beyond his years, each pill nearly flawless in rank and potency. His formation work was creative, bending the basic principles into new applications the Ancestors had never seen from a child. Runes flowed from his brush with clean, steady lines; in forging, his hammer strikes matched the rhythm of seasoned smiths. Even tailoring and leatherworking—skills many warriors ignored—were handled with meticulous care, producing garments and armor of balanced durability and flexibility.
But the true shock came when they followed him to the rear training field.
Under the pale light of early morning, Haotian moved through martial sequences that were clean, sharp, and alive with power. His footwork blended Phantom Steps and Silent Steps seamlessly into his fighting forms. Each strike had intent, each movement the fluid precision of someone who understood both offense and evasion.
Yangshen's expression barely shifted, but his jaw tightened. Jinhai muttered, "These are the movements of an outer sect disciple."
Meiyun's eyes narrowed slightly. "No… these are cleaner than some I've seen in actual sect recruits."
Yuying simply shook her head, a faint trace of disbelief in her smile. "And he's nine."
The Decision to Reign Him In
That realization forced the Ancestors to act quickly. Left unchecked, Haotian's talents might scatter in too many directions, diluting his potential. The boy's hunger for learning was admirable, but it burned in all directions at once—alchemy, forging, formations, runes, martial arts—like a fire spreading over dry grass.
In a private meeting that night, they agreed:
Yangshen would take point on guiding his martial arts, ensuring his techniques developed in the right sequence for long-term growth.
Yuying would oversee his alchemy and herb cultivation, subtly steering his experiments without stifling creativity.
Jinhai would mentor him in forging, runes, and practical applications of formation work.
Meiyun would act as his overall coordinator, ensuring his training schedule balanced all pursuits without exhausting him.
None of this would be announced to the estate at large. To everyone else, it would simply look like the Ancestors taking a passing interest in the Patriarch's son.
The courtyard was prepared with meticulous care. The Ancestors stood at the edges, their presence both silent and immense, watching as Haotian worked in the center.
This was the first time Yangshen, Yuying, Jinhai—his great granduncle—and Meiyun had gathered together specifically to oversee one of his experiments from start to finish.
The Experiment Begins
Haotian's worktable was laid with rare herbs, purified mineral powders, and jade vials. The cauldron was already warm, its inner walls etched with formation lines he had carved himself. On the floor beneath it, an intricate formation array pulsed softly—its runes and nodes tuned to interact with the brewing process, enhancing the potency of whatever emerged.
With steady hands, Haotian began. Each herb was prepared with precision: roots shaved to exact thickness, leaves cut into perfect uniformity. As he worked, he wove supporting runes onto talismans and fixed them at key points of the cauldron, allowing the formation to circulate the heat and qi evenly.
The air grew heavy with fragrance—rich, clean, and layered with subtle shifts as the formation cycled. The Ancestors exchanged glances; this was not the method of an ordinary alchemist.
When the final essence was condensed, Haotian guided the mixture into pill form. Each sphere emerged flawless—smooth, perfectly round, glowing faintly with a soft inner light.
A Pill Beyond Perfection
When the cauldron cooled, Haotian carefully placed four pills onto a jade tray. He spoke with calm confidence:
"These are detoxifying pills… but not ordinary ones. They remove pill poison completely, unblock and clear meridians, cleanse the bone marrow, and strengthen the body's constitution."
The Ancestors leaned in. Even without testing, they could sense the stability and purity of the energy contained within.
"If paired with cultivation pills," Haotian continued, "one could increase cultivation rapidly without fear of poisoning or bodily strain."
The implication was clear: this was something no alchemy guild, no sect, had ever been able to create.
Offering to the Ancestors
Haotian extended the tray. "I made one for each of you. Please accept them—for your guidance and teaching. And… even if you don't think you need them, you may still carry the residue of old pill poisons from your early years."
The four exchanged glances. At first, each shook their head in polite refusal. But Haotian's steady gaze didn't waver. Slowly, they accepted.
Yangshen took his with a faint grunt of approval. Yuying's eyes lingered on the pill as though studying a rare treasure. Jinhai gave a single, deliberate nod. Meiyun's lips curved just slightly.
Without another word, they left, each retreating to their private chambers—whether to test the pill, study it, or simply contemplate what the boy had achieved was their own choice.
The stillness of the Zhenlong estate shattered one chamber at a time.
Yangshen's Chamber
Seated cross-legged in the candlelit quiet, Yangshen swallowed the pill without hesitation. The medicinal qi surged instantly through his meridians—smooth, refined, and without the slightest impurity. Then the heat struck. His breath hitched as a prickling sensation spread across his skin.
It was not pain—it was purge. Black, viscous liquid seeped from his pores, thick as tar, rolling down his arms and staining the mat beneath him. The smell hit him next—foul, rancid, like corpses left to rot under a summer sun. His eyes narrowed, and he grunted. "Pill poison… decades old." He rose immediately to find a bath before the stench overtook him.
Yuying's Chamber
In the west wing, Yuying had been the most hesitant to take the pill. She studied it, felt its energy, then let it dissolve on her tongue. Within moments, warmth bloomed inside her chest, flowing outward until every limb tingled.
Then—horror. Black slime oozed over her flawless robes, dripping onto the floor in slow, sickening splats. The reek hit her nose and she recoiled instantly.
"Aaahhh—! What in the heavens—?! This stench!" she cried, her voice sharp enough to carry across the wing.
Jinhai's Chamber
In the ancestral archives, Jinhai sat amid scrolls and relics. He consumed the pill in one gulp. His cultivation flared, but then his expression hardened. A dark sheen began coating his forearms, shoulders, and neck. He sniffed once—and even his veteran composure faltered.
"…He should have warned us."
Meiyun's Chamber
Meiyun had chosen her private study. She took the pill and leaned back to enjoy the warmth flooding her system… until the black fluid welled from her skin, matting her hair and staining her silken sleeves. The stench coiled into the air like a physical curse.
Her shriek ripped through the hall:"HAAOTIAAAN!"
In the Courtyard
Haotian sat cross-legged beneath the shade of an old pine, reading quietly. He'd been deep into the study of formation integration when a sudden thought struck him.
Ah… I forgot to mention…
His hand froze over the page. His eyes widened. They might want to be near a bath when they take it. The poison expels through the skin…
Then came the twin screams of Yuying and Meiyun, echoing through the estate like a thunderclap.
He winced. "…Too late."