Blossoming Path

"Here."

Lan-Yin and Wang Jun looked cautiously at the two pills I presented to them, both of them eyeing the small, round objects like they might suddenly explode.

"What are these?" Wang Jun asked, a hint of wariness creeping into his voice. His breath hung in the frosty air, the chill of the winter morning seeping into the training ground around us. The sky was a pale gray, and the snow, packed under our feet, crunched with every shift of weight.

I stretched, rolling my shoulders casually as I tossed them each a pill. "Pills for you, obviously. Don’t ask too many questions, just be grateful and kowtow before me in thanks for my superior alchemical prowess."

Lan-Yin raised an eyebrow, smirking at my dramatic tone. "Oh? You want us to start worshipping you now?"

"Absolutely," I said, grinning as I dusted off my robes. "But seriously, I made these for you both. Took your elemental affinities into account, so they should work well for your cultivation."

Wang Jun and Lan-Yin exchanged a glance, their skepticism palpable.

Lan-Yin gave the pill in her hand an experimental sniff. "And just how do you know our elemental affinities, oh wise and powerful alchemist?"

I crossed my arms, adopting my best haughty expression. "It's an educated guess, of course. But if you check your Interface, it should say. I made Wang Jun's pill with Metal and Fire in mind."

Wang Jun blinked, looking down at the pill in his hand before raising an eyebrow. "Metal? Fire? What, just because I spend my days hammering metal, that’s my personality now?"

"Pretty much," I shot back with a grin.

"And me?" Lan-Yin interjected, holding up her pill. "Let me guess—Water?"

I raised my brow. "Am I wrong?"

They looked at each other, their faces carefully kept blank. It seemed I was right.

"Well, you shouldn't base your guesses on careless stereotypes." She muttered.

"Well," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck, "it’s not a perfect science. But your affinity is usually determined from the beginning and dictates much of your personality and future career. And I can’t be entirely sure, but based on everything I know about you both, it seemed like the best guess. Worst-case scenario, if I’m wrong, they just won’t be as effective. But you won’t die, if that’s what you’re asking."

Wang Jun gave me a flat look. "I was about to ask exactly that."

I rolled my eyes. "Relax. It’s not poison. If your elemental affinity doesn’t match the pill perfectly, it’ll just have a weaker effect. No big deal. I’m not here to kill off my only friends."

Lan-Yin twirled the pill between her fingers, her expression thoughtful. "So, if I take this, I’ll get stronger, right?"

"That's the hope." I leaned back against a nearby post, my breath fogging the air in front of me. "Think of it as a boost to help you push through the next level of cultivation."

They both stared at the pills in their hands for a moment, the early winter sun barely peeking through the clouds as a gentle wind swept through the courtyard. The cold bite of the air was starting to creep into my bones, but I didn’t show it. I wanted them to take the pills, to trust in what I’d made.

"Well," Wang Jun finally said, flipping the pill up and catching it in his palm, "here goes nothing." He popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed without hesitation, before lurching over and making a disgusted face. "Ugh! It tastes like blood! What'd you put in this?"

"I didn't say it'd taste good!"

Lan-Yin, a little more tentative, followed suit, though she made a point of shooting me a mock suspicious glance before swallowing hers. "You’d better be right about this, Kai."

I waved them off, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. "Just sit down and start circulating your qi. You’ll feel the effects soon enough."

They both grumbled a bit, but did as I instructed, crossing their legs on the snow-covered ground, their breaths still visible in the chilly air. Wang Jun closed his eyes first, settling into his cultivation stance, and Lan-Yin followed soon after, her expression softening as she focused inward.

I joined them, but I wasn’t there to cultivate. Instead, I monitored their qi circulation, stepping forward to ensure everything flowed smoothly. Elder Ming, who had been observing from a distance, came over as well, standing silently beside me. His presence was steady and reassuring. I was glad for it.

Wang Jun was the first to react. I felt as the energy flowed through him, his qi pathways circulating properly. I discretely analyzed the rhythm of his circulation, noting how easily the pill had integrated with his natural qi flow. I couldn’t help but smile, pleased that my guess had been right.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Lan-Yin seemed to benefit as well, with Elder Ming nodding in satisfaction from inspecting her qi circulation. I could tell she was adjusting well.

Elder Ming broke the silence, his voice low but thoughtful. "These pills... were they made using those hybrid plants?"

I nodded, feeling a surge of pride. "Yeah, I’ve been experimenting with them for the past week. I finally found a combination that works, though I had to throw out more batches than I care to admit." I winced a little, remembering the countless failed attempts. I'd need to start ordering additional ingredients from Huan. Foraging in the forest wasn't ideal.

He raised an eyebrow but smiled slightly. "And yet, you don’t seem too bothered by those failures."

I shrugged, waving him off. "I’m learning not to let it get to me. It’s better to plan for failure than to expect perfection. I made sure to prepare extra ingredients, knowing full well some of it would go wrong."

"Wise beyond your years, it seems."

I stood there, watching Wang Jun and Lan-Yin as they cultivated, the winter air crisp around us. Their auras slowly grew stronger as the pills began to work, and it was hard not to feel a quiet sense of satisfaction.

Having learned the intricacies of pill-making and its effect on the body I knew how important it was to give the right medicine to the right person. People reacted differently, depending on their elemental affinities. Lan Sheng's mention of hyper-responders, people whose bodies soak up the benefits of a well-aligned pill like dry soil absorbing water, stuck with me.

I'd crafted these pills with care, taking into account what I knew about Wang Jun and Lan-Yin.

But it wasn't just about the pills. Watching them now, I knew that hoarding power and knowledge wasn't going to help anyone. These were dangerous times. The disciples of Narrow Stone Peak still lingered in the village, their presence a constant reminder of the lurking threats. It was better to make sure everyone around me was capable of defending themselves, at least somewhat.

Elder Ming must've sensed where my thoughts were drifting. "The Narrow Stone Peak disciples... They've been persistent, haven't they?"

I nodded, recalling how they’d tried to persuade the villagers over the past few days. They weren’t overtly hostile, just persuasive. They’d come to me too, of course. I had stood my ground, politely but firmly refusing their offer, but there was a lingering doubt in my mind. Was I right to refuse them?

"They’re persistent, but not pushy," I said, trying to find the right balance in describing them. "It’s strange. They aren’t unfriendly, but they won’t take no for an answer either."

Elder Ming’s face remained unreadable for a moment, before he gave a slight nod. "That’s the way of most cultivators. Righteous sects, like the Verdant Lotus, are exceptions rather than the norm. Narrow Stone Peak may not mean any harm, but... you’re right to trust your instincts. Especially from what you told me of their character."

"I guess so," I muttered, still feeling that nagging doubt. Had I turned down something that could’ve been helpful? Maybe they really did just want to protect the village. But something about their smoothness, their persistence—it didn’t sit right with me.

"Your instincts are often sharper than you realize, Kai. Trust them. You’ve been through enough to know when something doesn’t feel right."

I sighed, my breath fogging up in the cold air as I looked out at my friends, still sitting there in peaceful cultivation. "Yeah, I guess. It’s just hard to know for sure, sometimes."

"That uncertainty is part of the journey," Elder Ming replied, smiling softly. "But one thing is certain. What you’ve done here, for them, is more valuable than any protection they could’ve offered. These pills, your support, your presence, it’s enough."

I glanced at Wang Jun and Lan-Yin again, feeling the warmth of his words settle over me. Maybe he was right. I didn’t need to rely on outside forces to protect those I cared about. I had my own strength, my own knowledge, and I wasn’t alone.

"Thanks," I said quietly, the weight of the conversation slowly lifting. "And one day," I added, almost impulsively, "I’ll make something to fix your dantian, Elder Ming."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You’ve got enough on your plate, Kai. Don’t worry about an old man like me."

I wasn’t just making pills for the sake of power. I was making them to give those around me a fighting chance, to share the strength I was gaining with the people I cared about. It was as simple as that.

"You should get out of here," He said, his voice light now, almost teasing. "I’ll watch over them while they cultivate. Go, take a break."

I smiled at Elder Ming’s words, giving a grateful nod before turning away, the cold air cutting through my robes as I made my way back to the shop. His reassurance settled into me, quieting the doubts that had lingered. Still, there was always more work to be done. Always another step to take.

As I scanned the village on my way back, the absence of the Narrow Stone Peak disciples gnawed at me. They’d been persistent before, always hovering around the square, trying to convince the villagers. Perhaps they were taking the day off, or better yet; left the village. The unease prickled at the back of my neck, but I pushed it aside. For now.

Seeing Windy patrol the garden, I waved at him with a smile. For some reason, the Five Fists of Narrow Stone Peak gave him a wide berth. Although it didn't stop their leader, Wei Long, from coming in to recruit me. Good thing Tianyi could move like lightning when she needed to, so she hasn't been exposed yet.

As I stepped inside the warmth of the shop, the familiar scent of herbs and oils greeted me. The light from the small hearth flickered against the walls, casting long shadows across the shelves packed with ingredients and tools. I let out a sigh, feeling the tension from the day slowly ease from my shoulders.

I walked over to my workstation, where the pills I’d prepared for myself sat in neat rows. They had taken time to craft, but now that I had them in front of me, I felt a sense of satisfaction. I’d been waiting to take these for a while now, especially since I hadn’t fully incorporated the effects of the beast core elixir yet.

I held up one of the pills, studying its polished surface in the flickering firelight. This particular pill wasn’t just for strengthening my qi; it was designed to target the pill residue left in my body from the beast core elixir.

"I suppose it's a good problem to have."

Pill residue was a subtle but serious problem. It blocked the circulation of qi, diminishing the effectiveness of future pill consumption. Even though my pure qi cultivation method meant I had far less residue than most, it still accumulated over time.

This pill would cleanse that residue, unblocking my qi channels and allowing me to absorb future medicines more effectively. It was a small step, but a crucial one.

I glanced over at Tianyi, who had been sitting quietly in her human form, reading one of the many books I’d gathered for her to keep busy. She looked up as I walked toward her.

"Guard me while I cultivate," I said with a playful grin, knowing full well I didn’t need a guard in my own shop.

She nodded, her large eyes unblinking as she did so. "I’ll keep an eye out for any intruders," she said, mimicking a warrior’s salute.

Perhaps Liang Feng's works were a good way for her to learn the ways of a human.

I chuckled and settled down in my usual spot, crossing my legs and centering myself. I held the pill between my fingers for a moment, then swallowed it in one smooth motion. The taste was bitter, but familiar, like iron and earth mixed together.

Closing my eyes, I began to circulate my qi, feeling the pill dissolve and release its essence into my system. Slowly but surely, the energy began to flow, cleansing the remnants of old elixirs, burning away the impurities that had clogged my channels. It wasn’t painful, but it was intense like a deep, internal scrubbing.

Time slipped away as I immersed myself in the cultivation process, focusing entirely on the flow of qi. I could feel the effects taking hold, the smoothness of my channels returning, my body slowly regaining that sharp, efficient edge that residue dulled.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, Elder Ming’s words lingered. It wasn’t about proving anything to anyone, it was about knowing that I was doing my best, that I was growing in my own way.

But still... there was always the push, the hunger to reach higher, to become stronger. I couldn’t shake that drive. Not entirely. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.

The night deepened around me, but I didn’t stop. The fire within me had been lit, and I had no intention of letting it dim.

The room had long since fallen into a deep, tranquil silence, the crackling fire in the hearth casting warm, flickering shadows across the walls. Tianyi sat in her corner of the shop, legs tucked beneath her, a thin strand of hair slipping loose from her cascading locks. She glanced at Kai, who was deep in meditation, his breathing steady, his face relaxed but focused.

But something else tugged at her attention, a nagging sensation at the edge of her consciousness.

Tianyi’s delicate wings, though hidden in her human form, tingled faintly as she stared at the lone strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek. It twitched slightly, as if disturbed by the faintest breath of wind, though the room was still.

Her neck turned suddenly, her movements sharp and graceful. Her sharp senses, honed over a lifetime of surviving in a world that often treated her as prey, pricked at something just beyond her immediate awareness.

A faint rustle, like the brushing of leaves. The room was silent, but the world outside wasn’t. Her gaze flicked toward the window, and a whisper escaped her lips.

“Someone’s near.”