Time dissolved in a blur of absolute focus.

In the blink of an eye, another six months vanished.

It had now been a full year since the Jade Pendant space underwent its evolution.

For Chen Ping, this year was defined by a monastic discipline. His life shrank to a rigid cycle: cultivating in his cave dwelling, deciphering the first volume of the True Fire Alchemy Scripture, and tending to his secret garden.

Once a month, he would surface to trade pills for Spirit Spring water, moving like a ghost—cautious, low-key, and efficient.

While his cultivation realm remained stagnant at the peak of Qi Condensation, his progress in alchemy was nothing short of explosive.

It turned out he wasn’t just diligent; he had genuine talent.

The ten thousand Spirit Stones he had burned to acquire the True Fire Alchemy Scripture proved to be the best investment of his life. It was worth every stone.

This Low-grade Profound rank manual was a revelation. It replaced his crude, trial-and-error intuition with systematic precision. It broke down the chaotic art of alchemy into a science: the thermodynamics of fire control, the molecular analysis of medicinal properties, and the delicate chemical balancing act of the “Sovereign, Minister, Assistant, and Envoy” ingredients.

Once Chen Ping internalized the theory, he moved to practice.

To forge his fire control skills, he chose the “True Essence Pill” as his training dummy.

The True Essence Pill was a Tier 2 consumable, a staple for Foundation Establishment cultivators looking to replenish their mana. For anyone in the early stages of that realm, it was a lifeline.

But as a Tier 2 pill, the difficulty curve was a cliff compared to the simple Body Tempering Pills of his past.

The process demanded perfect thermal stability and split-second timing during the fusion phase. It was the standard litmus test for any aspiring Tier 2 Alchemist.

The first few months were a disaster. The failure rate was atrocious.

Sometimes the fire was a degree too hot, reducing the precious liquid to charred sludge.

Other times, the fusion timing was off by a hair’s breadth, resulting in a loose, useless pile of dust.

And even when he succeeded, the impurities were often too high, creating pills laden with toxic residue.

Every failure was the sound of money burning. A single batch of raw materials cost two hundred Spirit Stones. The market price for a finished pill was one hundred. To break even, he needed to produce at least two pills per batch.

Early on, he was lucky to get one.

Chen Ping’s heart bled with every wasted stalk of True Essence Grass, but he had no choice. He wasn’t a genius born with knowledge; he had to buy his experience with cold, hard cash.

Since his own True Essence Grass crop—which required fifty years of potency—wasn’t ready, he was forced to buy ingredients from the market. Time waited for no one.

He treated every failure as a lesson. He analyzed the ash, recorded the data in a jade slip, and cross-referenced it with the True Fire Alchemy Scripture.

Gradually, the chaos turned into order.

His hands stopped shaking. His Divine Sense became sensitive to the slightest thermal fluctuation within the Alchemy Furnace. He began to feel the “pulse” of the fusion point.

By the six-month mark, his success rate had stabilized above forty percent. More importantly, when he did succeed, he was consistently pulling four pills from the furnace.

He was making a profit.

Chen Ping had officially crossed the threshold. He was a Tier 2 Alchemist.

He now possessed the technical foundation to attempt the impossible: The Foundation Establishment Pill.

…

Inside the Jade Pendant space, the harvest was ready.

It had been a year and a half since he planted the seeds. Under the space’s time dilation—amplified by the Tier 3 Spirit Spring water—the crops had experienced sixty years of growth.

The results were spectacular.

The first batch—four Sunflame Grasses and four Amethyst Flowers—had hit their hundred-year limit long ago. The plants looked withered and ancient, their energy fully condensed into their roots and cores. Chen Ping harvested them with the care of a surgeon and sealed them away.

These were the anchors for his first attempts.

The second batch—forty Sunflame Grasses and thirty Amethyst Flowers—was thriving. They had accumulated over sixty years of medicinal potency.

While not fully mature, they were potent enough to be used. Their leaves were lush, practically dripping with spiritual energy.

Chen Ping selected five of each to combine with his first batch. That gave him nine sets of main ingredients.

Nine chances.

But the real surprise—the variable that convinced him to act now—was the True Essence Fruit Tree.

The tree had adapted to the high-energy environment of the Black Earth with terrifying efficiency.

Normally, it took a century for the fruit to mature. But under the dual effects of the space and the Tier 3 water, sixty years of accelerated growth had been enough.

Nine True Essence Fruits hung from the branches.

They were the size of pigeon eggs, pure white like carved jade, and heavy with juice. They had transitioned from the unripe green to a lustrous, pearl-white perfection.

They were ready.

“Not bad. Not bad at all.”

Chen Ping stared at the glowing fruits, his heart hammering against his ribs.

This miracle had saved him nearly a year of waiting.

His gaze turned fervent.

The next Sect auction for Foundation Establishment Pills was two years away. Even then, he would be fighting over scraps—Mid-grade pills at best, with thousands of desperate disciples driving the price into the stratosphere.

Why gamble on a slim chance when he held the keys to destiny in his own hands?

“The time is ripe.”

Chen Ping clenched his fist, feeling the strength in his fingers.

He was a Tier 2 Alchemist.

He had nine sets of ingredients.

He had a backup crop growing right behind them.

Even if he failed every single time, he could afford the loss.

Heaven’s timing, the earth’s advantage, and his own skill—the trinity was complete.

He took a deep breath, his eyes sharpening into steel.

Open the furnace.

Target: Foundation Establishment.

He moved with practiced efficiency.

First, the harvest. He gingerly collected the five Sunflame Grasses, five Amethyst Flowers, and the nine jade-white True Essence Fruits. The fruits were immediately placed in sealed jade boxes to lock in their volatile Qi.

Next, the theory. He pulled out the jade slip containing the pill formula. Even though he had memorized it to the point where he could recite it backwards in his sleep, he forced himself to read it again.

He visualized every step, every hand seal, every potential thermal spike.

Reviewing the plan wasn’t paranoia; it was professionalism.

Then, the auxiliary ingredients.

Refining the Foundation Establishment Pill required three secondary herbs. These were common enough that Chen Ping had stockpiled a mountain of them. He laid them out in neat rows, pre-processed and primed for the fire.

Finally, the Alchemist.

Chen Ping sat cross-legged before the furnace, closing his eyes. He regulated his breathing, smoothing out the flow of Qi in his meridians until it hummed like a calm river. He cleared his mind of greed, fear, and excitement.

His mental state settled into the “Ancient Well”—still, deep, and ripple-free.

When he opened his eyes, only cold focus remained.

He stood before the Alchemy Furnace that had served him for years and gently ran his hand over the cold metal.

“Hoo…”

A wisp of Qi shot from his fingertip, striking the ignition array.

Whoosh.

Orange-red flames leaped to life within the chamber. The temperature in the cave dwelling began to climb.

He meticulously arranged a Restriction around the room to prevent disturbances.

In this quiet, heavy atmosphere, Chen Ping began his first war against the limits of his mortality.