Chapter Twenty-Four: Xing Wutian

“Should I really return to my sect and implore Master Lingfeng for a pill formula?” Yang Xiao searched several major markets but came back empty-handed. He appeared deeply disappointed.

Yet, upon further reflection, he thought, “Returning to the sect would likely not grant me an audience with the Sect Leader. Even if I could see him, he would never hand over a pill formula to someone like me. Only disciples with outstanding talent might stand a chance. Given my current cultivation, I am far from being among the elite of the sect. The Sect Leader would most likely pay me no mind.”

In his previous life, Yang Xiao had only ever crafted the Spirit Nourishing Pill, a medicine suitable for the Spirit Sense stage. Back then, he’d advanced his cultivation through sheer hard work alone. But if he relied solely on painstaking practice, the time required to improve would be greatly extended—far more than he was willing to wait for now.

“If it comes to it, I’ll have to buy those two Spirit Sense stage pills and make do with them for the time being.”

Among the shops Yang Xiao visited, he found two kinds of pills that could aid his cultivation. Yet both were the lowest grade; inferior to the Spirit Nourishing Pill by a wide margin. Even so, they were exorbitantly priced—each costing dozens of spirit stones.

Of course, Yang Xiao was not exactly poor. He’d already sold some herbs gathered from the ancient cultivator’s cave, earning several hundred spirit stones. He’d also found several hundred more in Wu Li’s storage pouch. All told, he was quite well-off.

Still, Yang Xiao had no intention of squandering his wealth on inferior goods. He hoped to find a better pill, or ideally a pill formula. With such a formula, he could refine pills himself—and with the help of the mysterious jade slip, his pills would far outshine those crafted by others.

After making his way through the larger shops, Yang Xiao remained undeterred. He decided to try his luck with the smaller, more remote apothecaries. Perhaps he might stumble upon an unexpected treasure.

Sure enough, in a tiny, obscure shop, Yang Xiao discovered a pill formula for sale at a modest price—about two hundred spirit stones. According to the shopkeeper, this “Dragon Ascension Pill” was a secret recipe passed down from his ancestors, greatly beneficial for Spirit Sense cultivators. If the shopkeeper had possessed a spiritual root and could cultivate, he would never have parted with it.

The shopkeeper was an elderly man, well over sixty, dressed in threadbare clothing. Yang Xiao could tell he spoke the truth; his physique showed no sign of a spiritual root. In that case, it was only natural for him to sell the formula.

Yang Xiao had no fears of being cheated. By the rules of this market, selling counterfeits meant the seller had to repay the buyer tenfold.

Noting the old man’s impoverished appearance and lack of spiritual root, Yang Xiao thought it made sense for him to sell the pill formula to secure a comfortable retirement.

He took out two hundred spirit stones from his storage pouch and handed them to the elder, collected the pill formula, and prepared to leave. To his surprise, someone blocked his path.

“Wait, I’ll buy that pill formula!” The man was a young gentleman, distinguished in both dress and bearing, who entered the shop and declared his intention loudly. Clearly, he was here to contest the purchase.

“I’m afraid I’ve already bought the formula. Perhaps you should look elsewhere,” Yang Xiao replied, paying him no heed. The man’s fine clothes marked him as someone of high status, but Yang Xiao didn’t recognize him. He was clearly not from the Giant Spirit Sect, so Yang Xiao saw no need for courtesy.

“You’re quite bold. Do you know who I am, that you dare speak to me so?” The young man was taken aback by Yang Xiao’s firmness; evidently, he was not accustomed to being contradicted.

“And may I ask who you are?” Yang Xiao replied indifferently.

“I am Xing Wutian, Young Master of the Black Tortoise Sect. Now that you know my identity, shouldn’t you hand over the pill formula?” Xing Wutian was brimming with confidence. The three great sects were the overlords of the Myriad Peaks; ordinary people would be wary of offending them.

Yang Xiao wasn’t wearing the Giant Spirit Sect’s attire, so Xing Wutian assumed he was a wandering cultivator. In his mind, anyone who learned his identity would surely yield.

“So what if you’re the Young Master of the Black Tortoise Sect? This is a fair market, and besides, we’re closer to the Giant Spirit Sect’s territory here. Are you planning to resort to robbery, Young Master Xing?” Yang Xiao replied calmly.

“Are you a disciple of the Giant Spirit Sect?” Xing Wutian probed.

Yang Xiao did not answer. He had little patience for someone like Xing Wutian.

Yang Xiao’s expression seemed to confirm his identity, and Xing Wutian’s earlier anger softened. “I don’t care if you’re from the Giant Spirit Sect or a wandering cultivator. Sell me the pill formula and I’ll pay you double.”

“Sorry, I need this formula myself, so I can’t let it go.” With that, Yang Xiao made to leave, not wishing to waste another moment.

“So you refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit, is that it? If you won’t leave the jade slip, then you’ll leave your head behind!” With a flick of his wrist, Xing Wutian conjured a fireball and hurled it at Yang Xiao.

As expected of the Black Tortoise Sect’s Young Master, he wielded his spiritual power with remarkable speed—only the true elites of a sect could manage such a feat.

But Yang Xiao was no longer the man he once was. He raised his hand and summoned a bolt of lightning, colliding with Xing Wutian’s fireball. The two attacks exploded with equal force, showing their powers to be well matched.

“I didn’t expect you to have some skill. Interesting. Let’s see how many of my attacks you can withstand!” Xing Wutian sneered, launching a series of fireballs at Yang Xiao in rapid succession.

Yet Yang Xiao deflected each attack with ease, drawing upon the power of the lightning seal without expending much of his own energy. Xing Wutian, by contrast, was burning through his spiritual power with each fireball. If this exchange continued, he would never last.

After a flurry of attacks, Xing Wutian was already breathing hard. Yang Xiao considered whether he should kill him then and there—but swiftly dismissed the thought. If he killed Xing Wutian, the Black Tortoise Sect’s leader would certainly seek vengeance, and Yang Xiao stood no chance against a master of the Condensing Qi stage. Better to teach Xing Wutian a lesson and leave, avoiding unnecessary trouble.