The triumph over the Beast Horde, whether a true test of his qi or merely a startled herd of deer, had left Li Wei with a renewed sense of valor. The hidden valley, with its shimmering pool, ancient tree, and glowing blossoms, pulsed with an energy that seemed to affirm the warmth in his dantian—a warmth he believed was his nascent Golden Core, nurturing a fledgling Nascent Soul. Azure Dragon, his scruffy spirit beast, remained a loyal companion, curled by the stone altar as Li Wei pored over the scroll, its worn bamboo slats a sacred guide through his trials. The scroll's latest passage unveiled a tantalizing new challenge: "The Divine Pill, where the cultivator refines the essence of heaven and earth into a vessel of immortality. Craft with care, for the pill tests both body and spirit."
In the cultivation novels Li Wei had devoured in Beijing, divine pills were legendary elixirs—concoctions of rare herbs and mystical ingredients that granted immense power or longevity. The scroll's description was less grandiose but equally compelling: "Blend the gifts of the earth with the cultivator's qi, and consume the pill to purify the soul. Beware, for impurity brings chaos." Li Wei, tempered by lightning, betrayal, and countless trials, saw this as a chance to amplify his cultivation, building on his earlier alchemical mishaps. His body, weakened by hunger, fever, and the fresh wound from the deer's antler, protested, but the valley's mystical aura and the scroll's promise fueled his determination.
Inspired by Zhang Wei's alchemical enthusiasm in the Order of the Jade Dawn, Li Wei resolved to craft his own Divine Pill, using the valley's abundant flora. He foraged with Azure Dragon limping at his side, collecting moon berries—small, glowing fruits that pulsed faintly at night—and golden ferns, their tips radiant with what he believed was spiritual essence. The stolen booklet from the Dai Temple, with its cryptic recipes, offered guidance, suggesting a blend of "heaven's dew" and "earth's heart." Li Wei interpreted this as the valley's crystal-clear water and the moon berries, their glow a sign of divine potential. He returned to his altar, setting up his battered tin pot over the campfire, its surface blackened from past experiments.
With reverence, Li Wei prepared the concoction, crushing the moon berries and ferns with a rock, their juices mixing with the valley's water in the pot. Azure Dragon watched, head tilted, as the mixture simmered, releasing a sweet, tangy aroma that masked the bitter memory of his last potion's failure. Li Wei chanted the scroll's incantations, visualizing his qi flowing into the pot, infusing the brew with his Golden Core's warmth. The liquid turned a vibrant purple, flecked with silver specks that shimmered like stars, and he stirred it with his Star Blade, believing the branch's imbued qi would enhance the pill's potency. After hours of boiling, the mixture thickened into a sticky paste, which he shaped into a single, small pill, its surface glistening in the firelight.
Li Wei held the pill, no larger than a grape, with trembling hands. The scroll warned of "chaos" if the pill was impure, but its glow seemed divine, a promise of immortality. He hesitated, the memory of his last alchemical disaster—nausea and feverish visions—lingering, but his faith in the scroll prevailed. Under the valley's starry sky, with Azure Dragon snoring softly, he swallowed the pill, its taste sweet at first, then sharply bitter. For a moment, nothing happened, and doubt crept in. Then, a violent churn gripped his stomach, his body convulsing as he doubled over, retching into the grass. The warmth in his dantian flared chaotically, his vision blurring with flashes of light—stars, blossoms, a radiant phoenix soaring through the void.
The effects were swift and merciless. His bowels rebelled, forcing him to stumble to the pool's edge, his body purging the pill's essence. Sweat soaked his tattered shirt, his fever spiking, but amidst the agony, he felt a strange clarity, as if the pill had flushed out impurities. The warmth in his dantian stabilized, pulsing stronger, as if refined by the ordeal. Had he crafted a Divine Pill, or merely poisoned himself again? The scroll promised purification, and Li Wei chose to believe he'd succeeded, even if the cost was high. He scribbled in his notebook, hands shaking: "Divine Pill crafted. Body purged, qi purified. Chaos endured, soul ascends."
During the next video call with the Order of the Jade Dawn, Li Wei shared the experience, framing the pill as a success despite its laxative effects. Zhang Wei, eyes wide, praised his alchemy, suggesting refinements to the recipe. Liu Mei, her serene face lit by moonlight, urged him to seek medical help: "The body is the vessel. Protect it." Chen Xiu and Zhao Feng, awed, shared their own experiments, though their debates hinted at ongoing tensions. Li Wei hid the severity of his illness, fearing their concern might shake their faith.
As dawn broke, Li Wei sat by the altar, the Starstone warm in his hands, Azure Dragon snoring softly. The scroll promised that the Divine Pill was a step toward immortality, but also warned of greater trials. The valley's whispers seemed to approve, their murmurs blending with the morning breeze. With his sect's support and the scroll's guidance, Li Wei felt ready to face the next challenge, his Golden Core and Nascent Soul pulsing as beacons of his unyielding pursuit, one bitter pill at a time.