Chapter Seventy-Two: A Foundation Establishment Pill

Even though cultivators possess a constitution many times superior to ordinary folk, the wine in that jar was no common brew, and Wang Yao was visibly intoxicated. The scent of alcohol clung heavily to him, his cheeks flushed red, yet his eyes remained unusually clear. Emboldened by drink, he raised his gaze to meet Chen Yuan’s round and gentle face, and amidst the chaos in his heart, he noticed every subtle shift in her expression. For reasons unknown, he felt a sudden pang of disappointment.

The hairpin had been prepared by Junior Brother Lu as a gift for someone dear to him, but after an accident, the story went that the young female cultivator, after joining the sect, began to look down on Lu. The poor lad had shed tears several times under cover of night in the Ebony Tree Garden. Wang Yao had thought the hairpin beautiful, but paid it little mind. Later, after meeting Senior Sister Chen, memories stirred within him, and he came to believe this ornament would suit her perfectly.

The crowd watched him with peculiar expressions. Though Chen Yuan's earlier words were polite, they were also true: it was a gesture of goodwill, and no one would ridicule a gift for being inexpensive—especially since it wasn't particularly cheap, depending on whom you compared it to.

The issue was that… it wasn’t a pill to aid cultivation… nor was it a protective talisman. It was a piece of jewelry, and clearly styled for someone beloved. Now the situation was obvious: Wang Yao had shifted his comparison from all the disciples to Liu Xin alone; before the thirty merit-point artifact, the hairpin seemed rather lackluster.

“Senior Brother Liu’s anger earlier wasn’t entirely unjustified,” a disciple whispered with a smile. If it had been them, they’d have put on airs no matter what, unable to maintain the calm the other displayed. Everyone was eager to see how the young man would react.

Standing amidst the crowd, Wang Yao’s lips curled into a faint smile. He sighed, a hint of melancholy in his voice, “It’s really not that pretty, after all.”

He might have seemed dazed, but he was not foolish. From the moment he entered the courtyard and sensed Liu Xin’s unfriendly gaze, he felt something amiss. The occasional ambiguous look Senior Sister Chen sent his way was indeed pleasing, but upon reflection, it seemed more as if she were acting for Liu Xin’s benefit.

A hairpin for a fairy. But the fairy was merely a figment conjured when he first entered the sect, based on Senior Sister Chen’s likeness. It wasn’t even the awakening of love—just a youth’s curiosity about the unknown. Years later, after their parting, a faint affection finally took root, only to be crushed before it could blossom.

It had nothing to do with the value of the artifact. If Wang Yao wished, he could have drawn a Foundation Building Pill from the cloth pouch at his waist, reveling in the disciples’ astonished exclamations, basking in their attention, and sitting back to drink and converse with Senior Sister Chen about poetry and romance.

Just as his master had said when leaving Little Green Mountain: Don’t embarrass me.

But that wasn’t him. Flaunting his master’s possessions held little appeal. Wang Yao was self-aware: he was a lucky but ordinary disciple of Little Green Mountain, mediocre in talent, with no advantage over these others. If he happened upon a lucrative opportunity and fought hard, he might earn a dozen spirit stones; most times, he only managed to scrape together meager merit, barely sustaining his cultivation.

If Senior Sister couldn’t accept him as he was…

Then.

Under the gaze of all present, the young man cupped his hands and laughed with ease, “I’ll take my leave.”

Beneath his simple blue robe, his back was straight and proud, sleeves empty but his bearing unyielding. The mortal body was a gift from his parents; his cultivation, hard-won. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

Upon hearing this, Chen Yuan frowned. Everything thus far had been under her control: she deliberately left Liu Xin room to mock, feigned indifference upon opening the box, allowed her eyes to flicker with disappointment, and let the disciples whisper among themselves—all to stoke anger in the other's heart.

Ordinarily, even if not for her sake, did Wang Yao not have any pride?

Yet the scene before her was unexpected.

“Oh, so you’re just leaving?” Liu Xin sneered, his satisfaction almost overflowing. At last, his irritation was dispelled!

Li Zhiwei still wore a serene smile. Yet when his gaze brushed past Liu Xin, a trace of disappointment flickered. He cared little for three spirit stones, and would have gladly gifted them to a junior brother—it was just a trifle. What he couldn’t understand was how even the awkward Wang Yao could see through it all, while Liu Xin, personally cultivated by their elder, was so easily manipulated by a woman.

Shaking his head, he rose silently and left the courtyard.

Wang Yao, encircled by the crowd, was growing muddle-headed, stumbling as he made his way out. The male disciples took the opportunity to laugh and squeeze out behind him, while several female cultivators hurriedly pinched their noses and stepped aside, watching as the young man staggered out.

When his figure finally vanished, their gazes converged on the ground, where a small cloth pouch lay quietly, crude in craftsmanship and plain in style.

All disciples of Eastern Departure Peak had storage pouches, but only Wang Yao would use such a thing—it must have fallen in the commotion.

Chen Yuan walked over, bent down to pick it up, and wondered whether to open it, when a fair hand reached out.

She shrank back, displeased.

One pulled at the corner, the other gripped the opening, and the pouch was torn apart; a round pill fell to the ground, its rich fragrance overpowering even the lingering scent of wine in the courtyard.

“Dujuan, what are you doing?” Chen Yuan frowned at the short-haired girl, but mid-question, her eyes narrowed, surprise and suspicion flooding her face as she stared at the Foundation Building Pill.

Only the sound of sharp inhalations remained in the courtyard.

Thud.

Chen Yuan was so stunned that the blue-and-white artifact in her other hand dropped to the ground.

Liu Xin’s face twitched; he felt as though he’d been slapped, his cheeks burning, yet his hand still trembled uncontrollably. He even felt the urge to bend down and snatch the pill.

If even the elder’s disciples felt this way, how much more so the others.

Chen Yuan, however, resisted the impulse.

She stood uncertainly, her thoughts in turmoil.

A plain cloth pouch might have been left by accident, but a Foundation Building Pill—never. Was Wang Yao hinting at something?

A gift placed in a box is a congratulatory offering; one thrown to the ground, a reward. The meaning was entirely different.

She felt insulted.

But… but it was a Foundation Building Pill!

Chen Yuan took a deep breath and bent down again, but that figure—once more—beat her to it.

“Senior Sister, spare yourself.”

Dujuan, expressionless, picked up the pill, put it back in the pouch, glanced at her, and dashed out of the courtyard without a backward look.

Chen Yuan swore this was the closest she had ever come to a Foundation Building Pill.

Watching the girl rush out, she finally screamed, like a madwoman, “Stop that wretch, that belongs to me!”

The crowd was startled.

Seeing Senior Sister Chen like this, they exchanged glances, unable to speak.

Liu Xin felt a strange bitterness in his heart, jealousy and envy mixing; he gently patted Chen Yuan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, junior sister, I’ll get it back for you.”

There was a hint of grievance in his voice—after all, the item came from a rival in love… What a situation this was.

“Hurry up!” Chen Yuan, abandoning all pretense, turned and shouted at him.

Liu Xin’s face was slightly flushed; he was, after all, an elder’s personal disciple, yet was ordered about like this. Even the surrounding juniors looked at him oddly.

Grinding his teeth, he turned and strode out the gate.