“Thank you, Fifth Brother!” Wang Wenwu snatched the heavy golden rod, his calloused hands stroking the cold metal with undisguised adoration.

“A heavyweight Top-Grade Spirit Weapon. You have a sharp eye, Seventh Brother,” Wang Hao noted approvingly. “Check the inscription. What is it called?”

Wang Wenwu hurriedly injected his spiritual power into the shaft. With a flash of brilliance, three bold characters surfaced on the pommel.

“The Gilded Staff!”

“The Gilded Staff! What a name! Truly a treasure.” Wenwu beamed, his eyes disappearing into the creases of his grin. He ignored the rest of the distribution, retreating to a corner to admire his new toy like a child with a wooden sword.

The others exchanged wry smiles. In a world of schemes and hidden daggers, Wang Wenwu’s mind was a straight line. He was pure.

Wang Hao turned to the next elder. “Nineteenth Uncle, you’re next.”

Wang Yanping approached the table with a critical eye. He had reached Foundation Establishment within the safety of the family and already possessed a decent weapon. As a talent cultivated for decades, he wasn’t starved for resources like Yanlang or Wenwu.

His offense and defense were balanced. What he lacked was mobility.

His gaze settled on a pair of yellow boots. He lifted them, pulsing Qi through the leather to test their response.

“Chasing Wind Boots,” Yanping announced with a satisfied smile. “I’ll take these.”

The other two had chosen Top-Grade weapons, while these boots were merely Mid-Grade. Yet, Yanping knew that compatibility outweighed raw rank.

Only Wang Wenmei remained. Wang Hao looked at her. “Wenmei?”

Currently, Wang Wenmei wielded only a flying sword—strong on the attack, weak on defense. Logic dictated she should select a shield or armor. Instead, her eyes locked onto a fan composed of radiant, multi-hued feathers.

“The Seven-Color Fan,” Wang Hao observed. “Top-Grade. It can unleash attacks from all five elements. It is versatile, but that balance means it lacks raw punching power in any single element. Choose carefully; there are no regrets here.”

Wang Wenmei bit her lip, debating. “I’m taking it. I’m a wealthy woman now; I’ll just buy two defensive artifacts when we get back.”

“Hah! I forgot, you are indeed a little rich woman now.” Wang Hao laughed, sweeping the remaining artifacts off the table.

“Alright, since the selection is done, I’ll store the rest. Uncle Yanlang’s share will be credited to his line, but his direct descendants have poor Spiritual Roots. Giving them Spirit Weapons now would be a waste. We will record the debt; when his line produces a Foundation Establishment cultivator, the family will grant them two weapons at once.”

“A sound plan,” Wang Yanfeng agreed. He hesitated, then asked, “Wenhao, why didn’t you take one? Bringing them back just to collect dust in the treasury seems wasteful.”

“I have enough tools,” Wang Hao dismissed the concern with a wave. “Besides, Eighth Uncle, nine weapons might seem like a lot, but our population is exploding. Soon, we’ll have more Foundation Establishment cultivators than weapons. These will be gone before you know it.”

He leaned forward, his tone shifting to business. “In fact, I plan to purchase Foundation Establishment Pills immediately upon our return. I’ll push Wenyan and the others to break through, then return to Green Bull Market to recruit more Qi Refining kinsmen.”

“The family only has today’s prosperity because of Fifth Brother,” Wang Wenmei said, her voice thick with emotion. Wenwu nodded vigorously from the corner. Without Wang Hao, they would likely still be stuck at Qi Refining.

“Enough,” Wang Hao cut them off gently. “We complement each other.”

It was a symbiotic relationship. Wang Hao provided the muscle and the goods; the family handled the tedious logistics. Could he run a shop, manage a farm, and hunt beasts simultaneously? He would die of exhaustion.

He earned the lion’s share of the profit while doing the work he enjoyed, all while receiving the clan’s gratitude. Helping them refine a few pills didn’t delay his cultivation; it secured his support network.

“Wenmei, Wenwu, go watch the deck. Let the Uncles refine their new treasures first,” Wang Hao ordered. He turned to the elders. “Uncles, I gained some insights into the Pill Cauldron Sect’s alchemy techniques while in the ruins. I’m going into seclusion for a while.”

“Oh? Is your alchemy about to break through again?” Wang Yanfeng asked, unable to hide his envy. Years ago, he was the teacher. Now, he was hopelessly left behind.

“Hard to say. But I must try.”

“Go, Fifth Brother,” Wenmei urged. “We’ll guard the ship. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Wang Hao retreated to a secluded chamber in the ship’s hold.

He had originally planned to refine the pills in Wanxiang City, but towing the captured vessel had slowed their pace. Wasting two months on travel was unacceptable.

He summoned the Red Maple Furnace.

It landed in the center of the room with a heavy clang. It was a Second-Grade Mid-Rank furnace he had looted years ago. While his current Qi could technically drive a Magic Treasure-level furnace, he couldn’t sustain it for long sessions. For a marathon of Foundation Establishment Pills, this furnace was the safer, more efficient choice.

He laid out his ingredients: one Essence Condensing Fruit and a mountain of supplementary herbs.

He had enough Essence Condensing Fruits to attempt a hundred batches—the fruit matured annually and was high-yield. The bottleneck was the Glazed Borage.

The Borage plant required seven years to mature, yielding only thirty stalks per acre. He had harvested a batch years ago and hadn’t replanted immediately, meaning he was capped at thirty attempts for now.

I need to manage the planting cycles better, Wang Hao noted grimly. This scarcity is an unforced error.

He had never refined a Foundation Establishment Pill before. The failure rate would likely be high. However, having mastered the White Lotus Pill, a Second-Grade Top-Rank medicine, he wasn’t going in blind.

Wang Hao took a deep breath, closing his eyes to center his spirit.

He sat in meditation for an hour, adjusting his internal state until his mind was a still lake. Since learning talisman crafting, he had grown meticulous about these seemingly minor details.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, a sharp glint of focus within.

He fired a seal into the Red Maple Furnace. The vessel expanded in the wind, humming with power.

Wang Hao extended his left hand. A crimson lotus bloomed in his palm. With a muffled whoosh, a wave of Red Lotus True Fire surged forward, enveloping the base of the furnace.

In his early Foundation Establishment days, refining like this would have drained him dry, forcing him to rely on spirit charcoal. Now, his Qi was a roaring river. The upgraded Red Lotus True Fire burned hotter and cleaner, requiring far less energy to maintain.

As the temperature climbed, the maple leaf engravings on the furnace glowed a brilliant, blood-red hue.

It was ready.

Wang Hao cast a technique, levitating an Essence Condensing Fruit and tossing it into the fire.

Peel. Extract. Purify.

Then came the supplementary herbs, one by one. Wang Hao stared into the heart of the furnace, his divine sense monitoring every fluctuation of heat.

Finally, he added a drop of diluted Third-Grade Spirit Water.