In the pale light of dawn, Liu Yiyi stood at Chen Yang's door, food box in hand.
She wore a light blue laborer's uniform that day, though it did little to conceal her graceful figure.
When Chen Yang opened the door, she offered a faint smile, a trace of weariness lingering at the corners of her eyes and brows.
"Brother Chen, I brought you breakfast," she said softly, her gaze drifting casually across the room.
Chen Yang stepped aside to let her in.
The room still held the faint medicinal fragrance from last night's Pill refinement. He instinctively shifted his body to block the clay bowl sitting at the corner of the table.
Liu Yiyi set the food box on the table and sighed lightly. "On my way here this morning, I ran into a few Menial Disciples staring at me again."
"You're beautiful — of course they'd look," Chen Yang replied offhandedly, opening the food box. Inside were several plump, white steamed buns, still steaming with heat.
Liu Yiyi was unfazed. Her bright eyes looked directly at Chen Yang. "Does Brother Chen think I'm pretty?"
Chen Yang was caught off guard and gave an awkward laugh, letting the question pass without an answer.
He picked up a bun and took a bite. The meat filling was savory and juicy.
Since joining the Verdant Wood Sect, it had been a long time since he'd had such a carefully prepared breakfast.
Liu Yiyi watched him eat, then said suddenly, "Life is hard for Menial Disciples — I know that. Back at Spring Crimson House, I saw all kinds of men from every walk of life. I know that when a man is under pressure, he needs an outlet."
Chen Yang nearly choked on his bun and quickly drank some water to clear his throat. "Yiyi, don't joke like that."
"I'm not joking." Liu Yiyi's expression was earnest. Her fingertips lightly traced the edge of the food box. "As long as Brother Chen agrees, I can stay tonight."
Chen Yang set down his bun and said seriously, "I regard you as a younger sister. How could I ever entertain such thoughts?"
A flicker of something complex passed through Liu Yiyi's eyes, then she smiled again. "Don't misunderstand me, Brother Chen. I'm not that kind of woman. It's just..." She paused, her voice soft. "It's just that you always seem so downcast. I only wanted to ease your burden."
She rose to her feet, her skirt swaying gently. "Since Brother Chen is unwilling, I won't press the matter. But remember — if you ever change your mind, you can always come find me at Butterfly Valley."
With that, she turned and left, leaving behind a faint, lingering fragrance.
Chen Yang walked her to the door and watched her figure recede into the distance. A warmth stirred in his chest.
In all these days, Liu Yiyi was the only person who had brought him any measure of warmth.
He returned inside and slowly finished the remaining buns.
He had just tidied up the food box when a commotion broke out at his door.
Several Menial Disciples crowded the entrance, each wearing expressions of curiosity and envy.
"Senior Brother Chen, did Miss Liu bring you food again?"
"She really treats you well!"
"When she walked in just now, half the guys out here couldn't take their eyes off her!"
Xiaodouzi was among the crowd, grinning broadly. "Brother Chen, you should've seen it — when Sister Liu showed up, those guys looked like their eyes were about to fall out of their heads! If they didn't know you two had sworn to be siblings, someone would've come looking for trouble with you long ago."
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Chen Yang smiled but said nothing more.
Yet the gloom that had settled over his heart seemed to lift, just a little, from this simple gesture of care.
Once the crowd dispersed, Chen Yang shut his door, and his expression gradually grew calm and still.
He took out the clay bowl, his gaze deep and contemplative.
Over the next several days, Chen Yang immersed himself in cultivation.
Using the mysterious bowl, he continuously duplicated Pure Origin Pills.
Each duplication consumed spiritual energy equivalent to two low-grade spirit stones' worth of spirit liquid.
Day and night, he converted plain water; the spirit liquid in the bowl would drain and refill, refill and drain again.
The process of cultivation proved far more grueling than he had imagined.
The Pure Origin Pill was potent, and each time he consumed one, it felt like enduring a baptism of fire.
Spiritual Energy surged wildly through his meridians, bringing a tearing, searing pain.
Chen Yang was often drenched in cold sweat, yet he gritted his teeth and pressed on.
After swallowing the first Pill, he felt a scorching heat in his dantian as spiritual energy galloped through him like an untamed horse.
He activated his basic breathing technique, guiding the Spiritual Energy through his meridians.
After three Circulation Cycles, the spiritual energy finally settled, and his cultivation advanced noticeably.
By the third Pill, he could feel the barrier of the second level of the Qi Refinement Realm.
Spiritual Energy hammered against the bottleneck, each impact bringing a bone-deep pain.
He clenched his jaw, the veins at his temples bulging.
Finally, at the break of dawn, the barrier shattered, and spiritual energy flooded into new meridians.
By the fifth Pill, he had grown accustomed to the pain.
Spiritual Energy flowed freely within him, and his cultivation rose steadily.
He began to study how to better guide the medicinal power, ensuring not a single trace of spiritual energy went to waste.
On the seventh night, deep in the darkness, Chen Yang swallowed his tenth Pure Origin Pill.
This time, the medicinal power was ferociously intense. Spiritual Energy surged like a crashing tide, battering against the barrier of the third level of the Qi Refinement Realm. His entire body trembled, and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.
Just as he was on the verge of giving out, a vision flashed through his mind: the sight of Zhao Yanran in Yang Tianming's arms, the collapsed wooden bed, the suggestive atmosphere hanging in the air.
"No!" He let out a low snarl, a fierce light flashing in his eyes.
His spiritual energy erupted in a sudden burst, smashing through the barrier in one stroke.
The third level of the Qi Refinement Realm!
He slowly opened his eyes and felt the surging spiritual energy within him.
This breakthrough had been harder than the previous two combined.
But it also taught him that hatred could sometimes serve as a driving force.
He quickly reined in his aura, suppressing his cultivation to appear as though he were still at the first level of the Qi Refinement Realm.
Years of farming life had taught him a truth: An innocent man becomes guilty the moment he carries a jade.
If others learned that his cultivation had advanced so rapidly, suspicion would inevitably follow.
And beyond that, there was still the bowl that could duplicate Pills.
If word of such a treasure got out, even the sect's Elders would be tempted.
In the stillness of the late night, Chen Yang began to take stock of his situation.
His thoughts turned to Zhao Yanran's three Senior Brothers.
Yang Tianming!
The very Senior Brother Yang Zhao Yanran had spoken of — at the eighth level of the Qi Refinement Realm, he was considered exceptional even among inner disciples.
He cultivated a Metal Element Cultivation Technique, his attacks fierce and sharp. Arrogant and contemptuous of all, yet he doted on Zhao Yanran with particular attention.
It was he who had been openly intimate with Zhao Yanran that day, with no regard whatsoever for Chen Yang's feelings.
Senior Brother Lin — Lin Yang!
Seventh level of the Qi Refinement Realm.
He was skilled in Wood Element Magic, meticulous in thought, outwardly gentle but inwardly calculating.
It was he who had first suggested making Chen Yang a laborer that day — on the surface offering him a way out, but in truth intending to grind Chen Yang beneath his heel.
Senior Brother Li — Li Yan!
At the peak sixth level of the Qi Refinement Realm, his Fire Element Cultivation Technique was domineering, his temper explosive. He had the least regard for Outer Sect Disciples and laborers of anyone.
All three were formidable cultivators with considerable influence among the inner disciples.
In a direct confrontation, Chen Yang stood no chance.
But now, with the bowl, everything was different.
Given enough time and enough Pills, surpassing them in cultivation was not impossible.
Chen Yang's gaze was calm and steady.
Once more, he recalled the sight of Zhao Yanran cradled in Yang Tianming's arms that night — the shattered wooden bed, the musky fragrance drifting through the air.
His fists clenched without thinking.
One day, he would make those three pay the price.
Moonlight spilled through the window, falling across the resolute lines of Chen Yang's profile.
The medicine garden lay in perfect silence, broken only by the soft chirping of a few night insects.
Chen Yang took out the bowl and began a new round of refinement.
He poured in clear water; a spiritual glow rose from within, and Pills drifted and bobbed on the surface.
The night was still long.