Chapter Thirty-Four: The Wisdom of a Single Phrase

In the days that followed, Shen Bingxue did not come again, and Li Mu’s life returned to its usual rhythm.

Li Mu often found himself recalling the figure that walked away that day, wondering what had become of her.

Once, he happened to meet Lady Wang and asked her about the Flower Grove Sect. Lady Wang’s face showed clear disdain. “That sort of sect doesn’t even have a single cultivator at the Meridian Nurturing stage, yet they are busy with internal strife. Truly laughable—they don’t know what’s good for them.”

From her words, it seemed Alchemist Shen had intervened. But when Li Mu tried to ask for details, Lady Wang refused to explain, instead turning the question back on him. “The Flower Grove Sect is only a few thousand miles away—why don’t you go see for yourself?”

Li Mu had no response.

He had too many enemies; unless he reached the Foundation Building stage, he couldn’t fly, nor could his spiritual sense perceive the many lurking dangers around him. To venture outside the city would be courting death.

“I’ll just wait until I reach the Foundation Building stage,” Li Mu thought to himself, departing in silence. Lady Wang watched his retreating figure, shaking her head with a deep sigh.

In her heart, Li Mu was exceptional—a person of ordinary background, with only the modest talent of three meridian rings, yet in just over half a year, he’d already advanced to the late Condensation stage. In a city as vast as Deyang, he’d established a sizable shop that prospered day and night—something few others could achieve, or would even attempt to.

The Jade Iron Sect had investigated Li Mu for a long time, but ultimately found no weakness to exploit. They could only attribute his accomplishments to his strength and luck.

“What a pity,” Lady Wang lamented. “Why can’t such a genius be used by me?” Her opportunities to meet with Li Mu grew fewer, and each time she tried to persuade him to join the Jade Iron Sect, he would ultimately refuse.

If he could not serve the Jade Iron Sect, then even his independence could not earn him their good graces.

The rent for his shop remained unchanged, but the commissions were steep, and the fees for the third-grade spirit gathering formation were likewise high. The longer Li Mu lingered, the more spirit crystals he had to pay. Yet if he agreed to join the Jade Iron Sect, all these things could be his for free—benefits beyond imagining. But Li Mu never relented.

As Lady Wang pondered this, a nameless resentment welled up inside her. “Wait a moment, Li Mu.”

Li Mu stopped at the summons, turning slowly. “Lady Wang, what is it?”

“I want to know—what exactly would it take for you to join the Jade Iron Sect?” Lady Wang’s refined features were tinged with grievance, her gaze fixed on him.

Li Mu’s expression was cool, his reply courteous: “Thank you for your kindness, Lady Wang, but I have my own path. Forgive me—I cannot accept.”

“Is that so?”

Lady Wang halted, stepping closer, a hint of mockery on her face. “Would a single Clear Qi Pill be enough to persuade you?”

Li Mu did indeed need a Clear Qi Pill; this was no secret, and he had been searching everywhere for information about it—the Jade Iron Sect was well aware.

His body tensed, but he quickly recovered with a smile. “Lady Wang, let’s not exaggerate. There isn’t a single pill to be found within Deyang City. Even if there were, the Jade Iron Sect would hardly be willing to part with it.”

Lady Wang was momentarily stunned, her smile fading.

She sighed lightly. “If I had one, I wouldn’t hesitate to give it to you. I believe you are worth such a pill; you can accomplish more with it than it alone promises. But I don’t have one, and the sect would never trade a Clear Qi Pill for a cultivator at the Condensation stage.”

She spoke from the heart, and Li Mu was quietly grateful.

He replied earnestly, “Thank you, Lady Wang, for your regard. I understand. As for the Clear Qi Pill, I will find my own way.”

A Clear Qi Pill was worth over ten thousand middle-grade spirit crystals, no less valuable than an ordinary third-grade treasure. The problem was, no one was willing to sell one.

Lady Wang smiled, her expression carrying an enigmatic allure. “With your strength, it will be extremely difficult. First, focus on reaching the Foundation Building stage. I can see your cultivation is already very close.”

Li Mu knew this was true; his cultivation was growing daily, and he stood at the threshold of a breakthrough. Once his internal energy pool expanded enough and true energy brimmed over, he could reach the Foundation Building stage.

He had read much about how to break through, but there were always uncertainties; with no guidance, he felt uneasy.

“Oh,” Li Mu nodded.

This seemed like a good opportunity to ask Lady Wang for advice, but having just declined her invitation, it was awkward to speak.

“Don’t use a Foundation Building Pill,” Lady Wang said lightly. “With your talent, it would be a waste. Talent is not everything—there are many cultivators with three meridian rings who also achieve greatness, but none of them used Foundation Building Pills. You should consider this carefully.” With that, Lady Wang departed.

Li Mu stood in place, his mind unsettled.

He had never thought not to use a Foundation Building Pill.

From what he’d read, cultivators used these pills to break through safely, with minimal risk and no harm to the body—a reliable way to advance from the Condensation to the Foundation Building stage. Foundation Building Pills were merely third-grade, not too expensive; even the best were worth no more than five middle-grade spirit crystals, affordable for most cultivators at his level.

The only drawback was the lack of anything extraordinary; the breakthrough relied solely on one’s innate talent, and future progress was predictable.

But some ancient texts did mention alternative methods.

For example, using enlightenment: for those with high meditative power, undistracted by external concerns, severing all attachments, and focusing solely on cultivation, it was easier to glimpse the Dao. But for someone as entangled as Li Mu, this was clearly unattainable.

There was also the method of using spiritual materials.

Breaking through with spiritual materials was vastly different; a cultivator might endure terrible pain, and if the body couldn’t withstand it, the outcome could be loss of cultivation or a complete return to the mundane. If successful, however, one could achieve tremendous growth—even an increase in innate talent, with limitless prospects for future achievement.

Spiritual materials were extremely expensive, and if the material did not harmonize with the cultivator’s constitution, it could cause lasting harm to the meridians and energy pool, hindering future cultivation and making it nearly impossible to reach the Core Formation stage. But if perfectly matched, the cultivator could gain a unique attribute based on the material’s properties—a rare occurrence, one in a hundred at best. Those who used spiritual materials in hopes of acquiring a specific trait often ended in disappointment.

The probability of success with a Foundation Building Pill was absolute.

The chance with spiritual materials was less than five percent.

Li Mu had always intended to play it safe—use a Foundation Building Pill early, advance to the Foundation Building stage, and complete the tasks he needed to. After all, he possessed the Mythic Spirit Tower; even with only three-meridian talent and limited future prospects, he could rely on the tower’s powers to compensate.

But Lady Wang’s words now made him reconsider.

Why not strive for more? Why place all his hopes on the Spirit Tower?

He had come to this world by rare fortune; should he not continue to fight, to create miracles time and again? So many legendary cultivators—why shouldn’t he aspire to join their ranks?

He wished to climb higher, to break through every limit.

The Spirit Tower was, after all, an external aid. No matter how much he relied on it, he could never reach the highest realms without his own efforts.

He and his little sister would one day outgrow Deyang City. The broader his vision, the farther his path would take him.

Suddenly, enlightenment dawned in Li Mu’s eyes.

He realized that, constrained by his cultivation, his perspective had been narrow. Only by rising as high as Lady Wang could one see farther, embrace a greater vision. In the past, he had suffered for lack of guidance, but now, with Lady Wang’s single remark about Foundation Building, he understood many truths.

Li Mu turned toward Lady Wang’s residence and offered a grave, respectful bow.