When the cauldron boils, dest

  I. A Letter Written in Silence

  Morning seeped into the valley like ink into paper — slow, deliberate, inevitable.

  Aduin sat beside the low fire of his forge-stone, grinding a mix of Ghostblossom petals and crushed Huan bark into a grey-green paste. His eyes did not waver, but his mind moved rapidly.

  “They’ll come back... not as scouts this time.”

  He knew it.

  Zhao Heng and Min Qixue would carry their humiliation back to the Yunn Pavillion, and it would be more than a lesson. It would be seen as an insult.

  Cultivators could suffer wounds, even betrayal...

  But humiliation?

  Never.

  Aduin dipped a split feather quill into the green-bck mixture and began to paint symbols onto parchment: a Qi resonance ward, a defensive seal that would trigger if anyone with killing intent approached the mouth of his cave.

  Each symbol pulsed faintly, aligning with the surrounding energy like stars finding their consteltions. Aduin’s system of cultivation was forming its own pattern — not based on brute Qi flow, but on harmony, reaction, and control.

  He whispered as he painted:

  “Let my art be my shield. Let my will be my fire.”

  II. The Crimson Visitor

  Before the sun reached its peak, the sound of bells echoed through the trees — soft at first, then sharper. Rhythmic. Disruptive.

  It was not wind.

  It was not birdsong.

  It was... a person.

  A figure in crimson robes stepped into the clearing, every movement deliberate, as if walking a ritual path. Her face was hidden behind a silk veil of copper threads. Her left hand held a fan shaped like a serpent scale. Her right carried a single stalk of bck bamboo.

  Aduin stepped forward slowly.

  “You are not from Yunn.”

  She stopped, tilted her head.

  “Correct. I am from the Zhuque Lattice,” she said. “My name is Chi Lanyue. I am a seeker of rare fmes... and you, alchemist, have caused quite a ripple.”

  Her voice was neither kind nor cruel. It was precise, like a scalpel hovering over skin.

  “I saw your fme signal from the eastern ridge. Unrefined, but... interesting.”

  “I don’t sell techniques,” Aduin replied ftly.

  “I didn’t come to buy,” she said, unfolding her fan. “I came to test the strength of your fire.”

  III. Trial by Fme

  Without waiting, Chi Lanyue flicked her bck bamboo to the earth. It struck stone and burst into a vertical pilr of scarlet heat — a Fme-Calling Array.

  Aduin felt his clothes tighten with sweat as the air thickened.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, narrowing his stance.

  “One cauldron. One test. Whoever forges the stronger pill... wins.”

  “And the loser?”

  “Hands over their cauldron and all stored herbs.”

  Aduin hesitated.

  He had nothing but what he had made. No sect. No backing. No elders to rescue him.

  But his spirit... it did not flinch.

  “Fine,” he said. “But if I win, you leave this valley. And never return.”

  Chi Lanyue’s eyes twinkled behind her veil.

  “Agreed.”

  IV. The Duel of Alchemy

  Both knelt at opposite sides of the array. Two stones, two fmes, two cauldrons.

  Chi Lanyue poured three scoops of Ashrain Fungus, two crushed Crimson Bell roots, and a vial of Drunken Ironwater into her vessel. Her fme flickered from blue to violet.

  Aduin matched her with his Verdant Cradle extract, blended with Moon Orchid sap and a single drop of his own blood — ced with spiritual energy from his previous breakthrough.

  The fmes rose.

  The air trembled.

  Qi distorted around the circle as the herbs fought, merged, and transmuted.

  Chi Lanyue’s cauldron sang like a wind chime.

  Aduin’s thumped like a beating heart.

  Sweat poured from their brows. Time warped. Insects died in mid-flight near the heat.

  Suddenly, Chi Lanyue gasped — a pop had erupted in her mixture. A crack along the side of her cauldron began to bloom like frost on gss.

  She clenched her jaw, channeling more Qi... but it was too te.

  Aduin’s brew settled, gleaming with liquid gold. His cauldron trembled once, then went still. A light plume of green mist spiraled from its lid.

  He stood.

  “Done.”

  V. Recognition of Skill

  Chi Lanyue rose as well, examining the brew from a distance. One gnce was enough. Her veil fluttered, a sigh escaping behind it.

  “I yield.”

  “That easy?” Aduin asked.

  “Only fools fight reality.”

  She bowed slightly.

  “I will not forget this result.”

  “Nor will I,” Aduin replied. “You were skilled... but too confident.”

  Chi Lanyue looked at him long.

  “One day,” she said, “your name will stain maps and fracture sect alliances. When it does, I will return. Not to challenge you... but to watch.”

  She vanished in a flutter of vermilion.

  VI. The Hands of Yunn

  Night had barely fallen when the silence broke again.

  This time, it was steel that whispered.

  Dozens.

  Aduin stepped outside his cave and saw the emblems in the moonlight — dark cloaks with silver clouds: Yunn disciples, full force.

  At their head — an elder with long silver eyebrows and a wooden staff carved with runes. His name echoed in the region like an approaching pgue.

  Elder Cui Rong.

  He spoke with a voice like colpsing tombs.

  “A mere rogue cultivator defying a sect’s will. Have you gone mad, boy?”

  Aduin’s hand slid slowly to the pouch at his belt.

  “No. I’ve gone free.”

  Elder Cui raised a hand.

  “Take him.”

  VII. The Breaking Cauldron

  Aduin did not run.

  Instead, he bit down on a capsule of Sun-Root Crystal Powder, triggering the Explosive Mist Array woven secretly into his cave walls.

  BOOM.

  A wave of fme and smoke exploded outward, catching six disciples in a wave of melting air. Their cries became echoes as they hit the rocks.

  Aduin leapt into the treeline, tossing alchemical beads behind him. Some froze air. Others created illusions. A few simply blinded. He moved with desperate precision — not like a warrior, but like a scientist fighting extinction.

  But the elder pursued.

  Fast.

  Unrelenting.

  Aduin made it to the peak of the broken bde mountain. His st escape point.

  But Elder Cui Rong appeared in a blink behind him.

  Aduin whirled, gasping.

  The elder struck once — a spiritual palm that shattered Aduin’s right shoulder and sent him flying off the cliff edge.

  As he fell, his satchel tore loose — herbs flying like feathers into the wind.

  And then...

  Darkness.

  Epilogue: Beneath the Crimson Soil

  In a shallow crater at the base of the cliff, blood seeped into earth.

  The crushed remains of rare herbs mingled with it.

  In that mixture, something began to stir.

  Tiny roots.

  Unnatural.

  Glowing.

  And above, unseen, a figure cloaked in ashen silk watched from a high branch, voice soft and curious.

  “Still alive after a blow from Cui Rong... fascinating.”

  The wind shifted.

  “You’ll make a fine piece... in the great game.”

  [TO BE CONTINUED...]