Upon returning to the family estate, Wang Hao immediately set to work. He first refined a fresh batch of Foundation Establishment Pills, then arranged for his uncle, Wang Yanzhi, to enter seclusion for his breakthrough.

Only once the logistics were settled did he seek out the Clan Head, Wang Yanzhao.

“Old Wang, I’m back,” Wang Hao greeted his father with a casual warmth. “Uncle Yanzhi has already reached the Ninth Layer of Qi Refining, so I’ve sent him into seclusion to attempt his breakthrough. If he succeeds, the family gains another Foundation Establishment cultivator—a crucial asset in these times.”

Wang Yanzhao looked up from a mountain of ledgers. He looked haggard, his vitality dimmed by stress and overwork. He didn’t even question the sudden arrival. “You handle it,” he said, his voice raspy. “But where did the Foundation Establishment Pill come from? Didn’t the Old Ancestor take our entire stock?”

“I had a spare one in my private collection,” Wang Hao lied smoothly. “I saved it for Uncle Yanzhi. When I visited the market years ago, I saw his cultivation speed was solid and figured he’d have a shot.”

Wang Yanzhao frowned slightly, sensing there was more to the story, but he didn’t press the issue. He simply sighed and pushed a heavy Storage Bag across the table.

“You’ve just returned, and I hate to put this on you, but we have no choice. Most of the family’s alchemists have been sent overseas. Your Sixth Granduncle is already in seclusion refining what he can, but we are drowning in raw materials. This is the backlog. Take it.”

Wang Yanzhao rubbed his temples. “You know the situation in the Qingyuan Sect better than anyone. The clan is desperate for Spirit Pills to accelerate cultivation. We also need a massive stockpile of healing and recovery medicines for the war. It’s all on you.”

Wang Hao nodded, his expression serious. “Since I chose to stay, I chose to work. Rest easy, Old Wang. I’ll head to the alchemy hall immediately and burn through this stockpile.”

Leaving the council hall, Wang Hao headed straight for the family’s Alchemy Pavilion.

A few elderly Tier 1 alchemists remained, handling the basic production of low-grade pills for the younger disciples. Wang Hao didn’t need to micromanage them. His task was the heavy lifting: the Tier 2 pills and specialized Tier 1 concoctions like the Concentration Spirit Pill.

The demand was staggering. Even counting the three currently attempting Foundation Establishment—Wang Yanzhi, Wang Yanpeng, and Wang Wenyuan—the Wang family only had six Foundation Establishment cultivators remaining. The bulk of the high-grade pills he was about to refine wouldn’t even be consumed by the family; they were currency, destined to be traded with the Li and Lei families for artifacts and talismans.

Wang Hao secured a private refining chamber. The family didn’t possess a natural Earth Fire vein, but the Alchemy Pavilion was well-stocked and convenient.

He dumped the contents of the Storage Bag. The sheer volume of herbs was daunting—enough for over seventy batches, forty of which were Tier 2 recipes. It would take at least half a year of non-stop labor.

He waved away the junior disciples offering to assist him. “Come back once a month to collect the finished product,” he instructed, then sealed the heavy stone doors.

The grind began.

He started with Qi Gathering Pills, a staple for early-to-mid Foundation Establishment cultivators.

As a Tier 2 High-Grade Alchemist, Wang Hao had refined these countless times. His success rate hovered around seventy percent—an enviable figure in the cultivation world. But now, with the aid of his high-grade Spirit Water, Wang Hao set his sights higher.

He wanted a Perfect Batch.

In the world of alchemy, a Perfect Batch was the holy grail. It wasn’t just about economic efficiency; it was the ultimate proof of mastery. If two alchemists both boasted an eighty percent success rate, the one who had achieved a Perfect Batch was considered infinitely superior. It meant absolute control over every variable: heat, timing, extraction, and fusion.

It was a worthy challenge to keep his mind sharp during the monotonous months ahead.

He purged the cauldron with flame, preheating the metal until it hummed. His movements were fluid and precise, drilled into his muscle memory over thousands of repetitions.

Extract the essence. Purify the liquid. Merge the components.

One mistake, one fluctuation in the flame, and the spiritual balance would collapse.

For the first month, Wang Hao churned out Qi Gathering Pills. He consistently hit nine pills per furnace—impeccable, but not perfect.

Another two months passed.

Deep in the silence of the chamber, a burst of hearty laughter suddenly echoed.

Wang Hao opened the furnace lid. Inside lay a clutch of round, lustrous pills—every single potential pill had formed without a speck of waste. A Perfect Batch.

He had burned through all the herbs Wang Yanzhao gave him and had to dip into his own farm’s supply to get the practice needed, but he had done it.

With the barrier broken, his efficiency skyrocketed.

For the next three months, he was a machine.

Two hundred and seventy Qi Gathering Pills. One hundred Qi Recovery Pills. Eighty-eight Clearing Rhyme Pills. One hundred and three Healing Origin Pills. Seventeen Origin Supplementing Pills. Nine Concentration Spirit Pills.

His average success rate remained above sixty percent. Only the notoriously difficult Tier 2 High-Grade Origin Supplementing Pills dipped below fifty percent.

By the standards of the cultivation world, he was now a master among masters.

Six months later.

The stone doors of the refining chamber ground open. Wang Hao stepped out into the sunlight, stretching his stiff limbs.

During his seclusion, he hadn’t just refined pills. He had also taken the time to upgrade his Chaos Earth Seal. Using Tier 3 earth-attribute materials he had looted from the Pill Cauldron Sect, he advanced the artifact to the level of a High-Grade Spirit Weapon.

He could have pushed it all the way to a Magic Treasure, but he held back. A Magic Treasure was a Qi glutton. At the fifth layer of Foundation Establishment, activating a true Magic Treasure would drain him dry for a measly twenty percent power output. While that twenty percent could insta-kill a late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator, real war required endurance, not just a single big bang.

Besides, he already had the Heaven Encompassing Bracelet if he needed a heavy hitter.

“Greetings, Elder,” two waiting clansmen bowed respectfully.

Wang Hao nodded, handing over a heavy stack of storage bags. “The final batch is done. Send them to… actually, never mind. I’ll take them to the Patriarch myself. You two clean up the chamber. Scrub every corner.”

“Yes, Elder!”

Wang Hao found his father in the same council hall, looking slightly less stressed but still weary.

“Mission accomplished,” Wang Hao said, placing the bags on the table. “This should satisfy the clan’s internal needs, with plenty left over to trade with the Li and Lei families for talismans and defensive artifacts.”

Wang Yanzhao inspected the contents, his eyes widening. He had been receiving monthly shipments, but the final tally was staggering. He couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride; his son’s alchemy skills had far surpassed his own.

“Well done, Hao’er. Truly well done,” Wang Yanzhao said, a rare smile breaking his stern face. “Your Sixth Uncle has also finished his batch. Between the two of you, we are well-stocked.”

He leaned back, his expression turning bittersweet. “Speaking of good news, your Uncle Yanzhi and Wang Wenyuan have both successfully established their Foundation. These pills will be perfect for trading for artifacts suited to them.”

Wang Hao smiled. “That is excellent news.”

“However,” Wang Yanzhao sighed, “Your Uncle Yanpeng failed.”

“Everyone has their own fate,” Wang Hao comforted him. “But with the Vein Protection Pill, Uncle Yanpeng’s foundation should remain intact. After a few years of recuperation, he can try again.”

“Try again?” Wang Yanzhao rubbed his forehead, the financial headache returning. “Where would we get another Foundation Establishment Pill? A single failure burns forty thousand Spirit Stones worth of resources. A second attempt makes it eighty thousand. An ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator only generates two or three thousand Spirit Stones of value a year. It would take him fifty years just to pay back the debt of his failure.”