True investment begins before the price is named—
when you've already measured the most valuable asset in the deal.
The human heart.
The furnace of the Artificing Hall burned without rest—for an entire day and night.
Jiang Muchen stood watch before it, eyes bloodshot, veins webbing the whites from exhaustion. Across from him, Elder Huoyun had stripped to the waist, his muscular frame glistening with sweat as he personally controlled the flames. Suspended within the earthfire furnace, the shattered remnant of the Heaven-Scorching Halberd rose and sank slowly.
Under the searing heat, layers of corrosion cracked and peeled away with sharp pops, revealing beneath them a molten-red metal core that glowed like flowing magma.
"Fire Essence Iron…" Elder Huoyun murmured, awe creeping into his voice. "This thing has to be buried in the earth's magma for at least three hundred years—bathed daily in groundfire—before every last impurity is burned away. Only then can a trace of pure fire essence be born."
He shot Jiang Muchen a sideways glance.
"What kind of luck do you have, kid? In a hellhole like the Infernal Core Abyss, most disciples would be grateful just to come out alive with a few Fire Yang Stones. And you? You dragged out the remnant of the Heaven-Scorching Halberd—an ancient fire cultivator's natal weapon."
"Luck," Jiang Muchen replied quietly.
His gaze never left the flames. His fingers absentmindedly brushed the jade flute at his waist—cool and calm, a stark contrast to the furnace's fury.
"Luck, my ass," Elder Huoyun laughed, sweat dripping from his bronze back and hissing into steam as it hit the scorched bricks. "So tell me—once the Fire Essence Iron is refined, what are you planning to make?"
He squinted at the furnace.
"This stuff is pure yang, violent to the extreme. Ordinary Yellow-rank artifacts wouldn't last a breath. You'd need at least a high-grade Yellow foundation just to contain it—"
"A flute."
The words cut in cleanly.
Elder Huoyun's hand jerked. The furnace flames wavered dangerously.
"…What?"
"A flute," Jiang Muchen repeated calmly, as if discussing the weather.
Silence slammed into the hall.
The assisting disciples froze, staring at him like he'd gone mad. Even the roaring earthfire seemed to hesitate.
Elder Huoyun stared long and hard before speaking. "Kid… you know Fire Essence Iron and Greenheart Bamboo are mutually incompatible, right? Fire conquers wood. That's a fundamental law of the Five Elements. You try to fuse them together, and best case—you blow the furnace. Worst case—we both die."
"That's why I need Ice Soul Stone."
Jiang Muchen reached into his robe and poured three thumb-sized blue crystals onto his palm. The moment they appeared, the hall's oppressive heat dropped noticeably. Frost formed in the air.
"These are high-grade Ice Soul Stones from the depths of the Frost Illusion Realm. Extreme yin. They carry a trace of primordial ice essence."
He lifted his eyes.
"Between the Fire Essence Iron and the Greenheart Bamboo, we construct a cold-buffer layer. Fire no longer directly suppresses wood. Instead—fire generates heat, heat melts ice, ice nourishes wood, wood supports fire."
"A closed cycle."
Then he added softly, "As for the nine Wind-Clear spirit inscriptions inside the flute—they'll refine the sound, lighten it. Brother Lin cultivates the Flowing Cloud, Chasing Moon Sword. His sword path emphasizes agility and resonance. Heavy sound would disrupt his comprehension. But pure wind… may help him grasp that fleeting state."
Elder Huoyun stared at the stones. Then at Jiang Muchen.
He laughed.
Not mockery—admiration.
"Well played," he said, clapping Jiang Muchen's shoulder hard enough to stagger him. "You've calculated Lin Tianying's cultivation, his bottleneck, his future needs—and forged something he can't refuse."
Jiang Muchen lowered his gaze. "I just want to pass tomorrow's evaluation."
"Bullshit," Elder Huoyun snorted, eyes gleaming. "You're turning an enemy into an ally. A tailored artifact that solves his urgent problem and leaves him owing you a favor he can never repay. After this, anyone who wants to touch you will think twice."
The furnace crackled.
Jiang Muchen said nothing.
Six hours later, dawn broke.
When the furnace lid was thrown open, a cry rang out—clear, resonant, like the awakening call of a phoenix.
A tri-colored radiance surged upward—red, green, blue—twisting through the hall before settling gently into Jiang Muchen's hands.
The flute was warm, but never burning. Cool at the tail. Wind stirred softly within its hollow.
Three attributes. One balance.
"It's done," Elder Huoyun collapsed to the floor, laughing hoarsely. "High-grade Yellow artifact. Triple-attribute resonance. Sound attack, cultivation aid, mental clarity."
He grinned.
"Give this to Lin Tianying—he won't sleep for three days."
Jiang Muchen bowed deeply. "Thank you, Elder."
"What are you calling it?" Huoyun asked.
Jiang Muchen traced the patterns along the flute.
"Flowing Flame, Chasing Wind Flute."
When Jiang Muchen stepped out, morning bells echoed through the sect.
But instead of heading to the evaluation grounds, he turned elsewhere.
"To see someone first," he said.
Half an hour later—
Administrative Hall.
Li Qingyun opened a wooden box.
His breath caught.
"Star-Pattern Steel… natural formation?"
Jiang Muchen smiled lightly. "Found it among scrap. I don't practice forging. Better in your hands."
"…What do you want?"
"Simple," Jiang Muchen said. "If I pass today, speak well of me during the secret realm allocation."
Li Qingyun laughed coldly. "You think this can make me offend Lin Tianying?"
"It won't," Jiang Muchen said.
He placed a jade slip beside the steel.
A ledger.
Three breaths later—Li Qingyun's face drained of color.
"…You checked my accounts."
"Self-defense."
Silence.
Finally, Li Qingyun exhaled.
"…The evaluation is starting."
Jiang Muchen bowed. "Thank you, Senior Brother."
As he walked into the sunlight, flute in hand, his shadow stretched long across the stone path—
like a sword drawn from its sheath.