Chapter 58: Han Feng's Fury

The scene was somewhat eerie. Che Wuyou boldly claimed he had successfully formed a pill—what kind of pill had he produced? Was it a poisonous pill or a useless one? No one believed that one could refine a Great Conceiving Pill with their eyes closed. Not even a second-tier alchemist could accomplish that feat blindfolded.

Below the small training field, Zhang Wanli, the Master Zhang, suddenly felt a toothache. How could Miao Shilin have taught such a disciple? It's one thing to cause a commotion above the field; I could overlook it considering you're young and talented. But to publicly declare, "I've formed a pill"? Do you really think you've refined a Great Conceiving Pill?

Gelmu had already arrived at the gathering place of the Medicine Garden below the small training field. Now that his identity as a Core Formation-level alchemist was revealed, wherever he went, he was met with reverent gazes. Even someone of Zhang Wanli’s status spoke to Gelmu with respect, never daring to slight him. The influence of a Core Formation-level alchemist was immense; if he wished, he could always summon a host of Core Formation-level friends.

Gelmu glanced at Che Wuyou, who had just announced his pill formation, and gave a slight smile. “Miao Shilin, you should carefully consider my master’s proposal. I am not one for patience, and I dislike hearing any words of refusal.” His tone was calm enough, but as he reached the end, a chill crept into his voice.

Before his identity was revealed, Gelmu could shout and rebuke loudly. But now, he was recognized as a respected figure at the Core Formation stage; he had to maintain some dignity, pay attention to his image. It was rare to see Gelmu put on the airs of a senior, giving Miao Shilin an indifferent instruction.

The Miao family was infuriated, but facing the lofty Gelmu and sensing the aura he exuded, none dared to speak their minds. The pressure of a Core Formation aura was overwhelming, highlighting a fundamental difference in existence from those below that level. Even if Gelmu stood silent, the Miao family felt oppressed; now that he was issuing “instructions” to Miao Shilin, the sense of intimidation only grew. It’s no wonder people say Core Formation is a watershed on the path of cultivation—it’s clearly true.

“A true man honors his bets. I’ll give you my right arm if you wish, but must you push us so far?” Yang Jian finally spoke. Though it was daunting to converse with a Core Formation master, Yang Jian stepped forward and met Gelmu’s gaze.

“Out of my sight!” Gelmu uttered a single word, but it struck Yang Jian like a bolt of lightning, forcing him to stumble back several steps. Yang Jian’s legs trembled uncontrollably—the gap was too vast. Such was the might of Core Formation: one word nearly floored him.

“I am talking to your master. How dare you, a junior, interrupt? No manners, no respect—no wonder you still haven’t entered the Return-to-Origin stage.” Gelmu looked down on Yang Jian, who seemed to overestimate himself, thinking he could trade a right arm for Liu Lanzhi and Che Wuyou. How absurd.

Still, since Yang Jian was so eager to offer his right arm, Gelmu would accept; otherwise, he’d waste Yang Jian’s goodwill. He vividly remembered that Yang Jian had been the loudest opponent before the contest. With this in mind, Gelmu continued, “I’ll take your right arm, and I want these two children as well.”

“You…” Yang Jian was furious—he hadn’t expected even the Core Formation expert to be so shameless. But what could he do? In the face of absolute strength, any argument was powerless.

---

“If I refuse to hand them over, will you really destroy Miao Manor? Are you not afraid of the Immortal Alliance’s retribution, or of me bringing this to Green Lake Sword Sect?” Miao Shilin’s face was dark. He truly did not wish to surrender Che Wuyou and Liu Lanzhi, especially Liu Lanzhi—his only hope, his personal disciple.

“With my means, why would Medicine Garden need to dirty its hands? A single top-grade Yellow-level pill would suffice to entice a Core Formation cultivator. If one is not enough, I’ll offer two; if two are not enough, three. I wonder—how many top-grade Yellow-level pills is your entire Miao Manor worth?”

“Besides, Green Lake Sword Sect is riddled with internal strife now; even if you manage to bring your case there, they may not bother with such trivial matters. As for the Immortal Alliance, it’s little more than a façade these days—why even mention it?” Gelmu was confident, knowing Miao Shilin had already agreed to his master Bai Touweng’s proposal. This was just a formality, a ladder for Miao Shilin to step down. Fine, since you need this, I’ll provide it.

“Master, you mustn’t agree… Master!” Han Feng suddenly knelt before Miao Shilin. “If he wants to destroy Miao Manor, let him do it. We have men unafraid of death!”

Han Feng’s eyes reddened, his voice choked with emotion. Though he had his flaws, though he was selfish, he would never watch “his woman” be sent to Medicine Garden. He had to stand up like a man, seize even the faintest hope.

Liu Lanzhi was moved—she never expected Han Feng to show such heartfelt sincerity. She was grateful, yet she shook her head and sighed. It was already decided that she and Che Wuyou would go to Medicine Garden; Han Feng’s plea wouldn’t change anything, except to trouble their master for a moment longer.

Che Wuyou’s pill was finally appraised. Seeing the pill appraiser’s shocked expression, everyone shook their heads. Was there even a need to evaluate it? What had he made to startle the renowned pill appraiser of Jizhou—could it really be a poison pill? With so many precious ingredients, the toxicity would be extraordinary.

Both Medicine Garden and Miao Manor fell silent, eyes turning toward the small training field. The Miao family saw the appraiser’s stunned face and didn’t react much; even if Che Wuyou had made a poison pill, it would only bring more ridicule—could things get any worse?

Yet Medicine Garden was intrigued—what exactly had this boy produced to shock an appraiser so much? While pill appraisers might not be great alchemists, their experience in identifying pills was unmatched. To astonish one was no easy task.

“A low-grade Yellow-level pill…” the appraiser stammered.

“What? He turned a top-grade Yellow-level Great Conceiving Pill into a low-grade one?” The crowd erupted. What a character—so talented! To downgrade a top-grade pill to low-grade was almost unheard of in Jizhou’s history.

Zhang Wanli, the Master Zhang, felt his toothache worsen. Such dignity and solemnity, such a high-level pill contest—three Great Conceiving Pills, how exhilarating! Yet it ended in farce, hastily wrapped up. If only someone had stopped this child’s madness earlier…

---

Han Feng was finally enraged. This pill contest had been full of twists and turns, leaving him fuming with nowhere to vent.

First, such a solemn, high-level pill contest had somehow allowed Che Wuyou to participate—he was furious!

Next, in the first round, Han Feng should have scored well, but misfortune led the talented him to ninth place—he was furious!

Then, Che Wuyou, with such low skill, had lucked into advancing, even swaggering alongside him, basking in the spotlight—he was furious!

In the second round, Han Feng stumbled, his stirring speech left unsaid, declared a “failed pill” instead. Yet Che Wuyou, in such a difficult, high-level environment, succeeded again… Heaven was so unjust to him, so partial to Che Wuyou—he was furious!

Che Wuyou, having lucked into this opportunity, should have cherished it, even if he couldn’t produce a legendary Great Conceiving Pill, he should have been cautious. But instead, Che Wuyou was smug and oblivious, refining the pill with his eyes closed. Did he not realize this was a contest? Did he not know he represented Miao Manor? Did he not understand how rare this chance was? He was furious!

Finally, his most beloved woman, his junior sister, was to be sent to Medicine Garden, and all he could do was watch helplessly. And just then, Che Wuyou caused more chaos, announcing his pill formation and, incredibly, downgrading a top-grade pill to low-grade—making Miao Manor once again the laughingstock.

With all these grievances, how could he not be angry? Han Feng’s eyes were bloodshot as he glared at Che Wuyou atop the training field, consumed by rage.

“Che Wuyou, get down here! Get down here right now… come down!” Han Feng shouted to the sky. He was determined—this time, he would give Che Wuyou a beating. If he didn’t beat him to a pulp, he’d serve as Che Wuyou’s grandson.

His voice was quickly swallowed by the noise, but he did not relent; he continued to shout. Driven by his overwhelming fury, his cries of “get down”… “get down” echoed far and wide.