Five years passed in silence.

Wang Hao consumed five Jasper Moon Fruits in sequence, pacing his intake with surgical precision until his body developed a resistance and the rare treasures became no more effective than common pills.

The result, however, was undeniable. He had smashed through the bottleneck of the Fifth Layer of Foundation Establishment. Aided by the cavern’s spiritual density—several times richer than the outside world—his cultivation speed had accelerated terrifyingly. The threshold of the Sixth Layer was already visible on the horizon.

Sensing his Qi becoming slightly unstable from the rapid ascent, Wang Hao ceased his intake of raw spiritual energy. It was time to consolidate his foundation through the grind of spellcraft.

He began with the Phantom Wood Clone Art, followed by the Blood Escape Technique gifted by Ji Xiaotang.

It took over a year of grueling, repetitive practice to bring both Divine Abilities to the stage of Proficient. The synergy he discovered was lethal: the Phantom Wood Clone Art was the perfect partner for the Flowing Cloud Sword Art. Once he reached the Golden Core stage, he could project dozens of tangible clones. Combined with a sword style where “one blade transforms into ten thousand,” enemies would face a legion of illusions and steel, unable to distinguish the fake from the fatal.

With his spells honed, Wang Hao turned his attention to the body.

He had long since gathered the materials for the White Lotus Pill, the catalyst required for the Ice Muscle and Jade Bone Technique. As a Second-Tier High-Grade pill, it was notoriously temperamental to refine. However, armed with the Pill Cauldron Sect’s ancient legacy and the annotated notes of long-dead masters, Wang Hao felt a surge of confidence.

He fired up the furnace. Aided by the high-grade Spirit Water, he worked through three batches. Finally, three pristine, pearl-white pills rolled out, filling the chamber with a rich, medicinal fragrance.

Wang Hao inspected his handiwork, blowing a speck of ash from his fingertip. “As expected of me.”

Nearby, Ji Xiaotang watched him through half-opened eyes while circulating her own energy. She marveled at his casual breakthrough to the rank of a Second-Tier High-Grade Alchemist. This “husband by circumstance” was a freak of nature; despite his scattered five-element spiritual roots, his cultivation speed was monstrous, and his auxiliary skills were top-tier.

Perhaps, she thought, her cheeks flushing, we really could condense our Nascent Souls together and walk the Great Dao side by side.

The thought of their future dual cultivation disrupted her focus. A blockage formed in her meridians, startling her into quickly clearing her mind to avoid Qi Deviation.

Oblivious to her internal crisis, Wang Hao finished his alchemy and began preparing a medicinal bath. He was a believer in “using both methods simultaneously”; when it came to cultivation speed, he never shied away from excess.

He produced a large wooden barrel, filled it with the steaming solution, stripped naked with zero hesitation, and hopped in.

Ji Xiaotang nearly coughed up a mouthful of blood.

“What are you doing?” she spat, averting her eyes instantly. “Shameless!”

“Hehe, don’t blame me, my dear wife. This technique requires total immersion to be effective.” He paused, water dripping from his shoulders, then tossed a jade slip toward her. “This art helps with skin refinement and prepares the physical body for the Golden Core. You should try it.”

“Bah! I’m not cultivating with you in there! And stop calling me wife!”

Ji Xiaotang’s face burned. Despite living a hundred lifetimes with him in the illusion—many of which involved sharing a bed—the reality of sitting in a tub together while fully conscious was too much.

Wang Hao blinked, then burst out laughing. “Uh, where did your mind go? Our cultivation progress is different. We can’t use the same barrel of medicinal liquid. I meant you should set up your own.”

Realizing her misunderstanding, Ji Xiaotang’s ears turned a vibrant shade of crimson. She immediately deployed a small concealment formation, vanishing from sight.

“I’m ignoring you,” her voice floated out, sounding both angry and flustered. “You’re affecting my cultivation!”

Wang Hao grinned and settled into the water, focusing on absorbing the White Lotus Pill.

The stimulation from the “Hundred Lifetimes of Reincarnation,” combined with his realm advancement, had caused his Divine Consciousness to skyrocket. It was now comparable to an early Golden Core cultivator. Under such powerful internal vision, the secrets of his own biology began to unravel.

As the pill’s energy washed over him, Wang Hao observed mysterious silver runes manifesting along the walls of his meridians.

These runes clung to the vessels, vibrating with power and reinforcing the pathways.

“Is this the secret mechanic of cultivation?” Wang Hao pondered, watching the light show beneath his skin. “It looks exactly like drawing talismans.”

To test his theory, he conjured a fireball. He watched the Qi flow from his Dantian, travel through specific meridians, and converge in his palm. The silver runes in those pathways lit up in sequence, acting like the ink of a talisman to constrain the formless energy into a structured sphere of fire.

The human body was essentially a massive factory. Spiritual Qi was the raw material, and the meridians were the production lines turning out different products.

“Drawing parallels,” Wang Hao muttered, an epiphany striking him. “This is it. Artifact refining requires carving runes to transform input energy into sword beams or blade lights. It’s the same principle. My body is the artifact.”

If he could master these internal silver runes, his proficiency in talisman making, artifact refining, and formations would leap forward. However, the runes were ever-changing and infinitely complex. Deciphering them would be a lifetime’s work.

“A long road for another day,” he decided. “For now, I need to temper the vessel.”

He calmed his mind and continued refining the pill.

The process was slow. About two or three runes formed per day, and a single pill took a month to fully absorb. After three months, his meridians were significantly tougher, yet the Ice Muscle and Jade Bone Technique remained stuck at the fourth layer.

Undeterred, Wang Hao fired up the furnace again. He refined ten more White Lotus Pills and dove back into the grind.

By the time he finished the final pill, a complete network of silver runes encased his meridians, emitting a faint, holy white light.

He recalled seeing a similar phenomenon during his Qi Refining days, but his insight back then had been too shallow to understand it. Now, the network was complete. The runes “shared breath and fate”—when one flickered, the entire system resonated.

The tempering effect was exponential compared to simple medicinal baths.

The sensation in his Dantian was particularly intense—an itch and sting that rivaled his original Foundation Establishment breakthrough. Looking inward, he saw the Dantian walls had become crystal clear and reinforced by the silver script. The bloating sensation from his rapid level-ups had vanished completely.

He wanted to continue, but time had run out.

The Flowing Yin Stone was exhausted. Ten years had passed inside the array, and they had to leave.

Wang Hao checked his farm before packing up. The dimension had also benefited from the time dilation. A batch of Hundred-Fragrance Fruits was ready, and the Essence Condensing Fruits had ripened dozens of times, filling his warehouse with hundreds of units. Even better, the original tree planted in the Black Soil had advanced to a Third-Tier spiritual plant, producing fruits of exceptional potency.

He was leaving this cave with massive gains. His cultivation had soared, his alchemy had deepened, and he now had the resources to mass-produce Foundation Establishment Pills. With his current Qi and Divine Consciousness, refining them would be trivial.

Yaya, too, had undergone a shocking transformation.

She had healed fully by the second year. Under the influence of the Mystic Wonder Fruit, her bloodline had evolved. The gold that once colored only her eyes had spread, covering her entire head and turning her massive duck bill into a gleaming golden beak.

Nourished by the potent fruit and the environment, the Golden-Eyed Duck had advanced to a Second-Tier Mid-Grade spirit beast, finally overtaking the Phantom Moon Butterfly and the Ice-Eyed White Tiger.

“Quack! Quack!”

Seeing Wang Hao stand, the giant bird called out happily, the sound resonating off the cavern walls.

“Good to see you healthy.” Wang Hao reached up to pat her head, but she was now too tall. Yaya obligingly lowered her neck, rubbing her golden feathers against his hand in a gesture of pure affection.

Ji Xiaotang emerged from her concealment array. She radiated power, having reached the Ninth Layer of Foundation Establishment. After another decade of polishing her Qi, she would be ready to attempt the Golden Core.

“We should leave,” she said, her expression sobering as the reality of the outside world returned. “We are safe here, but we both have clansmen outside. We cannot ignore their fate.”

Wang Hao nodded, his thoughts turning to Wang Wenmei and the others. They had been injured during the escape. After ten years inside—ten days in the real world—he could only pray they were still alive.