Beauty and Might: Heavenly Flames

Li Yan met his gaze evenly. ”This was my first attempt.”

Silence.

Then—

”Impossible.” This time, the word did not carry surprise alone.

It carried disbelief.

Cao Lian’s hand tightened slightly around the tester, while Ji Hong’s expression hardened, as if rejecting the answer outright.

Li Yan did not react.

Instead, he spoke calmly, as though explaining something obvious. ”I collected twenty sets of ingredients for each type of pill from the Tier-1 Hunting Ground,” he said. ”This was the first pill I made. The remaining nineteen…”

His gaze shifted briefly toward the table. ”…are in the bottle labeled Swift Movement Pill.”

Cao Lian didn’t hesitate. She reached for the bottle and opened it immediately. A faint medicinal fragrance spread into the air as the contents revealed themselves.

Pills. Not one. Not a few.

Nineteen.

Perfectly formed.

Her fingers stilled for a brief moment as she looked at them, her usual composure wavering for the first time.

”…Interesting,” she murmured, though the word felt insufficient even to her own ears.

Ji Hong stepped slightly closer. ”Check them,” he said, his voice lower now, more focused. ”Find the highest quality.”

Cao Lian nodded. She picked one at random and placed it into the tester.

The runes activated.

The mist swirled.

…63%.

A good result. She didn’t stop—another pill.

…77%.

The tester hummed again. This time, the number climbed higher—

…and stopped.

…88%.

Cao Lian’s hand paused. Slowly, she lifted her gaze toward Li Yan.

The calm in her expression had cracked. ”How… did you reach this level?” she asked, her voice carrying a trace of disbelief she could no longer conceal.

Across from her, Ji Hong remained silent. But his eyes—

Had already changed.

Cao Lian’s question lingered in the air, quiet but pressing.

Li Yan did not answer immediately.

Instead, he fell into brief contemplation, his gaze steady as his thoughts moved beneath the surface. Something about her reaction did not align with what he knew. If ninety percent was considered the peak and rare, then why did eighty-eight draw such a response?

He lifted his eyes to meet hers. ”Is there a reason it shouldn’t be possible?” he asked calmly.

Cao Lian held his gaze for a moment, then gave a small nod, her expression turning more serious as she chose her words carefully.

”For most cultivators, reaching this level is already difficult,” she said. ”But for someone with a Darkness affinity… It’s far more unusual.”

She paused briefly, her fingers lightly tapping against the pill tester as she continued. ”Darkness isn’t suited for purification. It lacks the natural clarity needed to remove impurities cleanly. Even with excellent control, the process is inherently less efficient.”

Her eyes sharpened slightly. ”So reaching eighty-eight percent… with Darkness Qi alone—”

She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to. The implication was clear.

Li Yan understood immediately. And in that instant—

He realized the situation had shifted.

If eighty-eight percent were already enough to raise suspicion… then anything beyond that would not remain hidden. The pills still in her hand—those reaching ninety, even ninety-two—

Would expose far more than he intended. His expression did not change. But inwardly, his thoughts tightened. This was closer than expected.

Ji Hong, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward. His gaze flickered briefly toward Li Yan before settling on Cao Lian.

”Perhaps it’s due to his affinity,” he said evenly. ”Superior-level affinity can influence more than just capacity. Control, stability… even refinement efficiency.” His tone was calm.

Measured. But deliberate.

Cao Lian turned slightly toward him, her expression easing as she considered his words. ”…That’s possible,” she admitted after a moment.

Superior affinity was rare.

Exceptional.

And often difficult to quantify fully. It could explain anomalies—

At least, to a certain extent. Ji Hong gave a small nod, as if concluding the matter. ”In any case,” he continued, ”this is already enough.”

He glanced at the pills on the table, then back at Li Yan. ”It proves his capability.”

A brief pause followed. Then—

”I have no objection to his decision.”

The words were simple.

But decisive.

Li Yan’s breath eased almost imperceptibly.

He understood.

Ji Hong had intervened—not to argue, but to close the matter before it went further. Before more questions could arise. Before anything else could be revealed.

Across from them, Cao Lian’s expression softened. Relief replaced concern, though a faint trace of uncertainty still lingered beneath it.

”If that’s the case…” she said slowly, her gaze returning to Li Yan, ”then I suppose there’s nothing more to argue.”

There was even a hint of pride in her voice now. ”To reach this level so early… You may go further than I expected.”

Yet—

As her eyes briefly flicked toward Ji Hong, something didn’t fully settle. He had agreed too easily.

Too quickly.

But the thought passed without being voiced.

Li Yan cupped his hands respectfully. ”Thank you, Elder Ji.” His tone was calm, but there was quiet sincerity beneath it.

Ji Hong met his gaze for a brief moment and gave a slight nod.

No words were needed.

Understanding passed between them.

Cao Lian, however, had not fully let go of her curiosity.

”Let me check the remaining pills,” she said, reaching toward the pill tester again, her earlier interest returning.

Before she could proceed, Ji Hong spoke. ”That won’t be necessary.” His voice was firm, though not harsh. ”We’ve already taken enough of his time.”

Cao Lian paused, glancing at him. Ji Hong continued, his tone steady. ”You’ve seen his progress. That’s enough. He’s been refining continuously—he needs rest more than further scrutiny.”

The reasoning was simple.

Practical. Difficult to argue.

Cao Lian hesitated for a moment longer, then let out a soft sigh. ”…Very well.”

She stood up from the couch, her posture returning to its usual composed state. Turning to Li Yan, her expression softened once more.

”We’ll take our leave,” she said. ”If you encounter any difficulty during your alchemy practice, come to me.” Her tone carried quiet assurance.

Guidance. Support.

Li Yan inclined his head. ”I will.”

With that, Ji Hong and Cao Lian turned and left. The door closed behind them. Silence returned to the room.

For a few moments, Li Yan stood where he was, unmoving. Then—

He exhaled. A slow, controlled breath.

The tension that had been coiled beneath the surface finally eased. Everything—

Had gone smoothly thanks to his quick thinking and Ji Hong’s help to close this matter earlier. Otherwise, his Fire-element affinity might have been exposed to Cao Lian as well.

Then Li Yan moved, collecting the pill bottles from the table with measured calm.

He did not linger.

Turning without hesitation, he walked back into the alchemy room and placed the bottles neatly onto the shelf where the rest were placed. Each movement was precise, almost habitual, as though the act itself required no thought.

Once done, he returned to the center of the room and sat cross-legged before the pill furnace.

With a flick of his wrist, ingredients appeared one after another—carefully selected, evenly distributed. He arranged them into sets with practiced efficiency, his movements smooth and deliberate, every placement intentional.

There was no pause.

No hesitation.

The next phase had already begun.

This time—

Tier-1 High-Level pills.

The furnace ignited, its surface glowing faintly as heat spread through its structure. Li Yan’s Spiritual Sense expanded, wrapping around the process with refined precision, guiding each stage before it even began.

Hours passed.

Then night fell.

Then the day returned.

The cycle repeated.

Li Yan refined continuously, stopping only when his Qi reserves were nearly depleted. Each time, he consumed a portion of Tier-4 meat, allowing the dense energy to restore his strength before resuming without delay.

There was no wasted motion.

No distraction.

Only repetition—

Refinement layered upon refinement.

By the second night, the room carried a faint density of heat and herbal residue, the air thick with the accumulated presence of countless completed pills. Yet Li Yan remained unaffected, his focus unwavering.

The third day passed in the same rhythm.

Then the fourth day came. By the afternoon of the fourth day, Li Yan finally stopped.

The furnace cooled gradually, its glow fading as silence reclaimed the room. For the first time in days, he exhaled slowly, allowing his posture to ease.

The results lay before him. All remaining Tier-1 recipes—

Completed.

Twenty-one types across High and Peak levels.

Each one was refined successfully.

Each one was stable.

Yet—

The quality had not advanced further—Ninety-three percent.

It remained there. Unmoving.

Li Yan studied the final pill in his hand, its surface flawless to the eye, its energy dense and balanced. There was no frustration in his expression, no trace of dissatisfaction.

Because he understood—Ninety-three percent was already beyond what most could comprehend.

In this world, it was not merely exceptional. It was enough to redefine expectation.

”That’s sufficient… for now,” he murmured.

The path forward did not require perfection. It required control.

And restraint.

He rose and began organizing the results, placing each pill bottle onto the shelf in careful order. The faint glow of pill bottles lined the wall, their presence quiet but undeniable.

Only when everything was arranged did he leave the alchemy room.

The bath was warm.

Steam rose gently around him, carrying away the lingering fatigue from days of continuous refinement. His muscles relaxed, his breathing slowed as the tension within his body gradually dissolved.

But his mind—

Remained active.

”For now… I should avoid the Alchemy Hall,” he said softly, his gaze unfocused as his thoughts aligned. ”To buy Tier-2 recipes.”

His fingers traced lightly across the water’s surface. ”I don’t need to give them a reason to question my progress.”

The events of earlier lingered. Suspicion—

Even if subtle—

Had already appeared. That alone was enough.

His thoughts shifted. ”Next… combat.”

The word settled firmly. ”Hunting Tier-2 Magical Beasts should be sufficient,” he continued, his tone calm but decisive. ”If my estimation is correct, the next task might be collecting Tier-2 beast cores.”

Resources. Preparation. Progress.

Everything aligned into a clear path. ”In the future, I’ll need more Shadow Points,” he added. ”Beast bodies… that should cover the cost of higher-tier recipes and ingredients.”

The plan formed naturally.

Clean. Efficient.

Without unnecessary risk.

When he returned to his room, the air felt quieter—calmer—after the intensity of the past days.

Li Yan summoned the Spiritual Beast Egg. It appeared in his hands, faintly glowing, its presence steady and alive. He held it carefully, channeling his Qi into it in controlled streams.

The egg responded immediately.

A soft pulse. Warm.

As if acknowledging him. Li Yan watched it for a moment, his expression unreadable, yet steady. Then he withdrew his Qi and stored it away.

The time had not yet come.

He lay down. His body, though tempered, finally gave in to the accumulated fatigue. His breathing slowed.

His thoughts stilled. Sleep came quickly.

Deep. And undisturbed.

*****

The morning sun had already climbed high, casting a warm golden light across the sect grounds. Cobblestone paths bustled with activity as disciples moved in steady currents—some trading pills and materials, others sparring in designated arenas.

While a few made their way toward training halls with quiet determination.

Li Yan walked among them with measured steps, his white robe shifting lightly with each movement. His presence drew little attention, yet his gaze remained calm and observant, taking in the rhythm of the sect without lingering on any single detail.

He stopped briefly at the food stalls, reserving several days’ worth of rations with efficient precision. There was no wasted motion, no unnecessary exchange—only what was required before he turned and continued on his way.

Soon, the teleportation zone came into view.

Several spatial portals shimmered in place, their surfaces rippling with layered light. Each one led to a different region of the valley, their energies varying in intensity—from the stable calm of beginner grounds to the heavier, more volatile pressure of higher tiers.

Li Yan’s gaze settled on one he had yet to use—the Tier-2 Hunting Ground portal.

Unlike the Tier-1, its aura carried a denser, more restrained force, as though the energy within it was compressed, held back only by the formation that contained it. Faint ripples spread across its surface, each pulse hinting at something far more dangerous beyond.

”This should be more challenging,” he murmured.