Chapter Twelve: Brimming with Tension

After refining several batches of Spirit-Gathering Pills in succession, Lin Qingyun began to concoct more common pills such as Body-Tempering and Healing Pills. However, the Body-Tempering Pills he made were unlike any other; he had specifically requested Sunfire Grass from Uncle Halfmoon—an herb found in certain ancient ruins, imbued with a vigorous, fiery energy.

In his previous life, Lin Qingyun had crafted these pills as a special, tailored batch for himself and the disciples of the Chifeng lineage: the Scarlet Sun Body-Tempering Pill and the Scarlet Sun Healing Pill, both uniquely suited to their physical constitution and cultivation techniques.

For two full days, Lin Qingyun meticulously refined every type of pill he might require for cultivation or combat. In the process, he further honed his mastery of the Creation Cauldron, adapting its use to his current level of power.

By then, he had reached the peak of the sixth stage of the Luteheart Realm—a true limit—so he finally allowed himself to rest.

After consuming some pills and using the Eight-Nine Profound Sun Technique to recover, Lin Qingyun left the alchemy chamber.

Though Chifeng Monastery lay at the very heart of the institute, it was usually quiet, with few others present. After searching for a while, Lin Qingyun found Uncle Halfmoon tending spiritual herbs. Upon asking, he learned that the Chifeng Patriarch had taken Li Xiaobo to the research laboratory.

“The master is truly remarkable, and that Li Xiaobo is a genius in his own right. They only spent a day or so together in discussion, yet they’ve already sparked ideas for a new pill formula. I didn’t catch the details, but it seems to be a brand-new recipe to improve the Foundation Establishment success rate for the Luteheart Realm. What’s more, the master mentioned it could help with certain inner demons during the tribulations after reaching the Soaring Cloud Realm. If that’s true, it’s a major breakthrough…” Uncle Halfmoon spoke with heartfelt admiration as he carefully tended a medicinal herb.

Hearing this, a faint smile played at the corners of Lin Qingyun’s mouth. Clearly, the things he’d shared with Li Xiaobo and the Chifeng Patriarch had accelerated this chain reaction.

Just then—buzz, buzz, buzz—the multi-functional communicator on Lin Qingyun’s wrist vibrated with a series of specific notification alerts. He glanced down to see over a dozen missed calls and dozens of messages.

“Uncle Halfmoon, I’ll leave you to your work. I have some things to take care of,” Lin Qingyun said, taking his leave while quickly scanning the sudden influx of messages.

Most of the missed calls and messages were from his high school classmates.

It turned out they were organizing a gathering—not a large one, since some had already entered university. Universities these days were comprehensive institutions, focused primarily on cultivation, but also offering disciplines like science, alchemy, and formation as integral departments.

This gathering was for members of the high school Alchemy Club—a group all determined to become alchemists and make their mark in the field.

Before his parents disappeared, Lin Qingyun, with his family background and the support of the Lin Pharmaceutical Group, had served as vice president of the school’s Alchemy Club and president of the class chapter. But after his parents’ sudden disappearance, he had scarcely attended school, resigning all his posts.

At that moment, his communicator sounded again—a video call from Zhao Chao.

“President, we finally tracked you down! Where the hell have you been? If we hadn’t seen the news, we’d have thought you died in Ruins No. 18—we almost held a memorial for you!” On screen, a short-haired youth with handsome, well-defined features and a heroic air greeted him. If she didn’t speak, she could easily pass for a heartthrob, but the moment she opened her mouth, it gave her away—she was, in fact, a girl.

“Chao, mind your image. Don’t ruin your pretty-boy reputation as soon as you open your mouth. I came to see my master and help Xiaobo with his Foundation Pill follow-up. What’s going on with you all?” The nickname “Chao” was what the girls at school had always called Zhao Chao, and it stuck.

Back in school, Chao had no end of admirers—all girls, without exception.

“It’s nothing. We’re just having a little get-together for the Alchemy Club before university starts. That idiot Li Daoze, after taking over as club president and vice president, issued his final order—something about unity and mutual progress in university, hence the gathering. Everyone’s coming. I just thought it’d been a while since we all saw each other, so I agreed. But honestly…” Chao’s tone, as ever, contrasted sharply with her dashing looks.

A few more calls came in—one from Chu Qing among them.

Though Lin Qingyun hadn’t seen Chao and the others recently, for them it was just a short while. For him, however, it felt like an eternity—his path in his previous life had led him far from these classmates.

“Tell them not to bother messaging me—I’m on my way,” Lin Qingyun replied, voicing his decision to Chao.

“Alright! I’ll be at the hotel soon. It’s at Zheng Haoyue’s family’s place—Li Daoze is probably just trying to curry favor. He’s been using their hotel for every event since taking over as president, always claiming it’s for the discounts and sponsorships, but really, he’s just sucking up.” Chao flashed an OK sign, not missing the chance to poke fun at Li Daoze.

Zheng Haoyue was the high school’s Alchemy Club president and the heir to the Zheng Group—a household name among students, having reached Foundation Establishment in his senior year and already recognized as a formal alchemist.

He was widely known as a prodigy, one of the “Three Geniuses” of the high school cultivation world. In the past, he’d always overshadowed Lin Qingyun, but from Lin Qingyun’s current perspective, Zheng Haoyue and the likes of Li Xiaobo—geniuses who rose from modest backgrounds—were still on another level compared to those who had early resources.

“If you do your usual shtick, Li Daoze stands no chance at bootlicking,” Lin Qingyun joked, already leaving the underground research core.

“Please, as if they even compare,” Chao scoffed.

After a few more lighthearted exchanges with Chao, Lin Qingyun boarded a flying car and headed for the Zheng Group’s hotel.

The Zheng family had been wealthy even before the resurgence of spiritual energy, with early investments in mining, hospitality, and other industries. After the spiritual awakening, they leveraged their assets to expand into cultivation hotels and related businesses.

In recent decades, the Zhengs had also entered the pill trade, thanks to unique recipes found in ruins and a roster of alchemists they’d cultivated over fifty years. They now claimed billions in annual market share.

While their pharmaceutical arm couldn’t match the Lin Group’s, the Zheng conglomerate as a whole remained stronger.

The Zheng Floating Island Hotel was built on three levitating islands, each suspended hundreds of meters above the water’s edge. There was no doubt—the Zheng family’s continued prominence after the spiritual awakening was well-earned.

They had used their early resources to nurture powerful cultivators, who in turn helped pioneer innovations in the hospitality industry—like using relics from ruins to keep the islands afloat, building not just hotels but specialized facilities for cultivation, forging, and alchemy. In the high-end hotel business, Zheng boasted an unrivaled reputation.

As Chao had said, such places weren’t typically meant for student gatherings, but with Zheng Haoyue as club president offering generous discounts, and with all club members being at least apprentice alchemists, money was not a concern.

The flying car came to a halt before the Floating Island Hotel. Even before it stopped, Lin Qingyun could see several familiar faces through the window.

“Hm?” Lin Qingyun was surprised—there were so many he recognized: Li Daoze in a crisp suit, Chao’s heroic figure, Chu Qing in a white dress, and other club members from different classes.

The car door opened, and Li Daoze, Chao, Chu Qing, and others approached.

“Qingyun, everyone wanted you to come. We’ve all been trying to reach you, waiting for you. We thought you’d forgotten your old classmates after becoming a major shareholder in the Lin Group,” Li Daoze said, grinning.

For Lin Qingyun, memories of Li Daoze were distant, but the moment he spoke, Lin Qingyun felt something amiss. Still, with so many classmates waiting, it was hard to confront him directly.

“Don’t believe him,” Chao interjected, rolling her eyes at Li Daoze. “It was me and Chu Qing trying to reach you. The others aren’t here for you—Li ‘President’ is here to greet Zheng ‘President’. You just happened to arrive first, so don’t flatter yourself.”

“Chao, that’s not fair—we’re all old classmates. There’s no need for that,” Li Daoze protested, as a few others chimed in on his behalf.

“Yeah, didn’t Li ‘President’ just say he was here to welcome everyone?”

Chao’s bluntness drew immediate pushback from Li Daoze’s supporters.

“Please. They used to call you ‘Brother Lin’ and ‘President’ every other sentence, and now they put on airs calling you ‘Qingyun’ as if you’re close. It’s disgusting. Don’t think I didn’t notice all the things you said and did as president—this past year, I was still at school,” Chao retorted, undeterred by the sycophants, directly criticizing Li Daoze.

Chao had always been outspoken, but today she was especially fierce, leaving Li Daoze visibly uncomfortable.

Only then did Lin Qingyun realize what he’d been sensing. In his previous life, after leaving high school, he’d barely kept in touch with anyone but Chao. He vaguely recalled Chao mentioning that Li Daoze was two-faced, often badmouthing him, and that she’d butted heads with him over it. It was clear now—Li Daoze’s gossip had been about him, and Chao’s confrontations had been on his behalf.

“Chao, can’t you just talk like a normal person? You always call me by name—did I ever complain? So what if Qingyun’s now a big shareholder in the Lin Group? I can’t call him by his name?” Li Daoze replied, his tone haughty despite the pretense of camaraderie.

“Of course you can,” Lin Qingyun interjected with a faint smile before Chao could respond. “Classmates should keep things easygoing. I remember some people used to call you my lapdog—and Haoyue’s too—but I never took it seriously. Otherwise, why would I pass the presidency on to you?”