Chapter 18: Choice

Lin Lingshu stared at Wang Shuheng being carried away by the pillar of light, disappearing in an instant, and couldn’t help blurting out in her heart, ‘What the hell!’

For someone to just vanish in broad daylight—now that really tested one’s courage.

“Hm? What’s that smell?”

She turned her head, and her eyes went wide.
“My chicken!!”

Without Wang Shuheng turning it on the spit, one side of the roast chicken had burned. She rushed up, snatched it off the fire, and muttered under her breath, “Whew, thank goodness… it’s not ruined, just a little charred.”

As for Wang Shuheng? He was immediately shoved to the back of her mind.

What use was the male lead compared to a roast chicken?
Could he feed her?
Could she take a bite out of him?
Would he fill her stomach?

Anyway, it wasn’t like he was going to die. And even if he really was in danger, the one who ought to worry was the Heavenly Dao, not her.

Clutching the slightly blackened roast chicken, Lin Lingshu sank her teeth into it, hugging it close as she gnawed away.
This—this was how a real man ate!

When Wang Shuheng was around, she had to restrain herself a little. But this—devouring meat in huge mouthfuls, stuffing her mouth full of rich, savory flesh—this was the proper way to live.

While Lin Lingshu reveled in her feast, Wang Shuheng was transported by the pillar of light into the great hall.

He glanced at the four figures before him, and first bowed toward the one seated at the main seat.
“Disciple Wang Shuheng of Shuiyue Peak pays respects to Ancestor Zijian.”

Then he saluted the other three, saying,
“Disciple Wang Shuheng greets the three Peak Masters.”

“Qi Refining, eighth stage.”
Fairy Shuiyue fixed her eyes on him, her voice crisp.

Among these four, the weakest was still at the Nascent Soul stage. To them, Wang Shuheng’s cultivation was as transparent as glass.

“Yes,” Wang Shuheng answered with composure.
“A few days ago, in meditation, I felt a slight breakthrough and thus advanced.”

Daoist Danlü wasted no words. He directly produced a jade bottle of pills and tossed it to Wang Shuheng.
“This pill—did you refine it?”

Wang Shuheng accepted it, pulled out the stopper, and sniffed the fragrance.
“Yes. It was refined by this disciple.”

“Then you should know what grade it is.”

“The pill I refined has flawless luster, pure and unmixed, formed in three beads, with pristine pill qi. According to the Pill Canon, it is a supreme-grade pill.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“This disciple does not.”

“In the thousands of years since Lingjian Pavilion was founded, you are the first to produce a supreme-grade pill—even if it is only a basic Qi-Gathering Pill. The last person to do so was the Elder Without Pills, ten thousand years ago.”

“A supreme-grade pill represents more than cultivation—it reveals the depth of one’s comprehension of the Dao of Alchemy.”

“Wang Shuheng, are you willing to join my Danlü Peak?”

Fairy Shuiyue’s gaze sharpened.
“You knew it was a supreme-grade pill. Why sell it off?”

“After breaking through to the eighth stage of Qi Refining, this disciple required sufficient cultivation resources.”

“You’ve been in the sect less than two years, yet already reached the eighth stage. That alone speaks of your extraordinary aptitude. Are you willing to become my personal disciple?”

“Fairy Shuiyue, you—”

“This child is a disciple of my Shuiyue Peak. No one else may meddle.”

Daoist Danlü bowed to Ancestor Zijian.
“Ancestor, this child’s talent in the Dao of Alchemy is unparalleled. If he joins my Danlü Peak, he may one day surpass even the Elder Without Pills.”

Fairy Shuiyue rose and bowed as well.
“Ancestor, this child is of my Shuiyue Peak. If he becomes my direct disciple, he has hope of reaching Nascent Soul in the future.”

Ancestor Zijian regarded Wang Shuheng.
“Qi Refining, eighth stage. Outstanding in alchemy. A fine seedling. Choose for yourself.”

“Thank you, Ancestor.”

Wang Shuheng bowed to him, then turned to Daoist Danlü.
“Thank you, Peak Master, for your kind offer. But I prefer Shuiyue Peak.”

“Ancestor…” Daoist Danlü looked to Zijian once more, trying for a miracle. As one obsessed with alchemy, he longed for more talent in his path.

But Ancestor Zijian merely said,
“Go back.”

A pillar of light carried Wang Shuheng away.

“Ancestor…” Daoist Danlü was unwilling. Such a prodigy for alchemy, gone!

Ancestor Zijian glanced at him and said,
“Do you know whose shadow I saw in him?”

He sighed.
“Zhang Wudao.”

“Elder Zhang?”

“Senior Brother Zhang?!”

“Zhang Wudao!”

The three exclamations burst out respectively from Daoist Danlü, Daoist Wangjian, and Fairy Shuiyue.

Zhang Wudao—once the dazzling prodigy of their era, whose gifts and brilliance overshadowed an entire generation.

Daoist Wangjian had even entered Lingjian Pavilion in the same year as him. Daoist Danlü and Fairy Shuiyue followed shortly after, hence their different modes of address.

And Zhang Wudao had been Ancestor Zijian’s own personal disciple.

His talent was unmatched. On the Ascension Steps, he climbed for three days and nights. Though the test was one of will and determination, at that time he had not even entered the Dao—he still needed food to sustain himself.

Back then, Ancestor Zijian was only a Nascent Soul cultivator. Seeing such potential, he could not bear to let him perish, and used a spell to pull him down.

After three trials, Zhang Wudao entered Zijian’s sect, eventually becoming his direct disciple. But after reaching the Golden Core stage, he betrayed the sect for reasons unknown. In the end, Ancestor Zijian personally purged his wayward disciple.

As for why he defected, none of them ever knew.

“Wang Shuheng… he’s not worthy.”

Daoist Wangjian, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke.

Everyone knew what he meant: to compare Wang Shuheng to Zhang Wudao was overestimating him.

All of them had been prodigies of their age. For Daoist Wangjian—Zhang Wudao’s peer—to speak thus was no surprise. In truth, he had always admired Zhang Wudao, almost like a devoted follower.

Ancestor Zijian sighed.
“That’s why I only said he bears a faint shadow of that wayward disciple.”

“Enough. The matter is decided.”

He stopped Daoist Danlü from protesting further.
“Return to your peaks.”

A violet streak of light, and Ancestor Zijian was gone.

Daoist Danlü, crestfallen, turned to leave. But Fairy Shuiyue called out to him.

“Fairy Shuiyue, the child is already under your Shuiyue Peak. What more do you want?”

“Daoist Danlü, though he is of my Shuiyue Peak, his alchemy talent is undeniable. I hope you will lend him your guidance in the future.”

“Best to speak plainly. What is it you want?”

“My disciple Lin Lingshu recently changed her cultivation path to the Dao of Thunder. She just broke through Foundation Establishment a few days ago. I hear you possess a Ten-Thousand Thunder Pill. I would ask you to part with it.”

“One condition: within each ten days, she must spend at least five at my Danlü Peak to listen and learn.”

“Agreed.”

Thus, Fairy Shuiyue walked away with the pill in hand.

That was why she had fought so fiercely to keep Wang Shuheng—so that she could exchange the favor for Lin Lingshu’s future.

Daoist Danlü watched her leave with the pill he had spent years refining. Yet he felt no pain.

Instead, he murmured softly, “My soul is not my own… but may the Dao of Alchemy thrive.”