Days passed quietly. He worked steadily, not chasing recognition, not seeking shortcuts. He would water the herbs, test the soil’s essence, repair formations when needed, and refine his Spirit Rebirth Technique whenever ti allowed.
The other workers had long accepted him as one of their own. Sotis they’d share als under the shade of the spirit trees, joking that Tian Lei was more herb than human now. He’d just laugh, shake his head, and return to his work.
Life in the Middle Garden beca simple—almost peaceful.
But even in this calm routine, subtle changes were happening. His control over his fla deepened. The Spirit Rebirth Technique began to evolve naturally, blending faint traces of purification energy from the Heaven-Purifying Arts he’d learned earlier. The soil in his section grew richer, self-sustaining even without constant supervision.
And while Tian Lei took it easy outwardly, inside he was still sharpening himself—quietly waiting for the right opportunity.
He knew this was just one phase of the trial. The system hadn’t given him a ti limit, which ant there was sothing else it wanted him to realize.
Until that answer revealed itself, Tian Lei decided he’d keep doing what he did best—cultivate patiently, like a fla that never went out.
Weeks slipped into months once more. The passing of ti hardly mattered inside the trial realm—there were no seasons, only the steady cycle of dawn and dusk, of growth and harvest.
Tian Lei’s section of the Middle Herb Garden had beco sothing of a legend among the servant disciples. The herbs there no longer rely grew—they thrived. Even rare strains that refused to bloom elsewhere took root under his care, sprouting with spiritual vigor unseen in generations.
One morning, as Tian Lei inspected a batch of newly matured Spirit Lotus buds, the familiar sound of footsteps approached from behind.
An elderly man in white robes, his hair bound in a silver clasp, stood at the edge of the garden. His presence was quiet yet commanding—the kind that made the very air still.
"Tian Lei," the old man said, his tone calm but asured. "You’ve done well."
Tian Lei turned and bowed respectfully. "Elder."
The old man’s eyes swept over the garden, over the vibrant herbs that shimred with faint halos of life. "In all my years, I have never seen a Middle Garden so full of breath and spirit. Even the soil here has beco self-replenishing."
He paused, then smiled faintly. "When the sect still stood at its peak, such vitality was considered a mark of deep understanding—a reflection of harmony between the cultivator and the world. Tell , boy... do you understand what you’ve achieved?"
Tian Lei hesitated before replying softly, "It wasn’t cultivation alone, Elder. It was... patience. Balance. The realization that tending life is no different from forging it."
The elder’s smile deepened. "A fine answer. You have touched upon insight. Most alchemists chase fire and formula, yet forget that life itself is the first fla."
He extended his hand, and a small, tiworn book appeared in his palm—its cover embossed with faint golden runes.
"This," the elder said, placing it in Tian Lei’s hands, "is a tier-one alchemy scripture—Nine Mists of Morning Dew. It teaches the foundational principles of essence extraction and pill refinent. If you can cultivate this art to completion, you will rise beyond re farming."
Tian Lei accepted it with both hands, bowing low. "I will not waste this chance."
The elder nodded approvingly. "Good. From this mont onward, you are no longer a servant of the fields. You may study within the Outer Alchemy Hall. If your results prove worthy, the sect shall recognize you as a true Alchemy Disciple."
He turned to leave but paused at the doorway, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of countless years.
"Rember this, Tian Lei—alchemy is not the art of fire and cauldron."
He looked over his shoulder, eyes glimring with quiet wisdom. "It is the art of purification and transformation."
With that, he walked away, his steps fading into the rustle of spirit herbs and whispering wind.
Tian Lei bowed deeply, his gaze falling to the book cradled in his hands—the ancient Heaven-rank manual that pulsed faintly with a living glow. A small smile curved his lips.
"A Heaven-rank art, huh... well," he murmured, straightening, "at least now I am an Alchemy Disciple."
"hm, but why is there no next phase notofication this ti" he mumbled as the Phase I trial was to beo an Alchemy disciple but now he is one, there is no notification he have completed it.
He furrowed his brows slightly, the smile fading into mild curiosity.
"Hmm... but why is there no next phase notification this ti?" he muttered, flipping the Heaven-rank manual open. Its pages shimred faintly with runic patterns that seed to breathe in rhythm with his pulse.
The Phase I trial was ant to test his understanding—to earn the title of Alchemy Disciple. And now that he had... silence. No divine resonance, no whisper of acknowledgnt from the world itself.
Tian Lei tapped the edge of the manual thoughtfully. "Don’t tell ... this ti, I’m supposed to move without guidance."
He looked around—the once radiant garden was now calm again, sunlight filtering through layers of spirit mist. The plants still swayed in harmony with his aura, yet sothing in the air felt different. Lighter. Freer.
A realization slowly dawned.
"The first phase taught harmony... maybe the second is about independence. If creation follows will, then the next step must be walking without a guiding hand."
He chuckled softly and closed the manual, tucking it into his sleeve. "Fine then. If no one’s going to tell what cos next, I’ll just find out myself."
With that, Tian Lei stepped out of the spirit garden. The great stone doors of the Alchemy Door rumbled open, revealing a path descending into a vast courtyard below—the Outer Court of the sect, where disciples honed their craft and competed for recognition.
As he walked forward, faint murmurs and bursts of multicolored flas flickered in the distance—each alchemist refining, experinting, chasing their version of perfection.
And Tian Lei, with a quiet fla dancing in his eyes, smiled again."Let’s see how far this path of ’purification and transformation’ really goes."
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