The sun hung high in the sky, an unrelenting blaze of gold that drenched the grove in oppressive heat. The air was thick, cloying, heavy with the scent of sunbaked earth and the faint, resinous aroma of distant pines. Every leaf and blade of grass shimmered under the merciless light, their edges curling from the sheer intensity.

  Even the towering trees, their twisted roots gripping the soil like ancient claws, offered little respite. The shade beneath their canopies was thin, suffocated by the simmering warmth that clung to everything like a second skin. They had chosen this part of the Outer Wilds for their breakthrough because of the dense Qi and relatively safe environment.

  Tao and Jian sat opposite each other, their clothes damp with sweat, their breaths slow and deliberate as they fought against the sluggish exhaustion creeping into their limbs. The heat pressed down on them, relentless, turning every movement into an effort.

  The only sound was the occasional chirr of unseen insects, their droning hum blending into the weight of the afternoon stillness. They had laid out their spoils between them. The plants still faintly, radiating the kind of power that did not belong in the hands of mere Qi Refining cultivators.

  Tao let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening around the Serpent’s Veil Lily. It’s cold energy slithered against his skin, an eerie contrast to the burning sensation radiating from the Molten Ember Grass resting beside it. They had been able to identify the plants after absorbing the information from their legacies.

  Jian exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face. “This is insane,” he muttered. “Heaven grade. Not profound. Heaven.”

  Tao’s gaze didn’t leave the plants. “I still think that if we refine them into pills, their effects will be at least three times stronger.”

  Jian snorted. “Which would be great if I was a master alchemist. I barely managed to form a stable pill flame yesterday. Refining something like this would probably kill me.”

  Tao nodded. It was the truth. The slightest mistake in alchemy would waste the plants at best, or at worst, create an unstable reaction that could explode in their faces.

  Jian gave him a dry look. “If we eat them whole, won’t we explode from the intense Qi?”

  Tao didn’t answer immediately. His fingers traced the edges of the Serpent’s Veil Lily, his mind working through every possibility. They needed to extract the energy without being consumed by it. Raw absorption would be suicide. Refinement was too dangerous.

  A flicker of realization struck him. “There might be a way.”

  Jian’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

  Tao leaned forward. “You said the Molten Fire Alchemy Scripture allows you to break down medicinal essence during refinement.”

  Jian frowned. “Yeah, but that’s for pill refinement.”

  “What if you used it on yourself?”

  Jian blinked. Then, slowly, his expression twisted into something between intrigue and horror. “You want me to refine my own body?”

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  Tao held his gaze. “It is better than being destroyed from the inside out.”

  Jian muttered something under his breath, rubbing his temples. “This is the stupidest idea we’ve ever had.”

  “Yes, but you are considering it.”

  Jian exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Fine. Let’s say I do this. I will be able to break down the energy, but what about you?”

  Tao didn’t answer immediately. He hadn’t changed his cultivation method to the Flourishing Root Scripture. He was still cultivating the Unyielding Mountain Spirit. He had neglected the Fertile Spirit Nurturing Art Shenli had given him for a while, but the progress he had made with the Nurturing Cycle Root Technique intrigued him. If he could extract Qi from plants with that, then perhaps the former could refine it even further.

  But he couldn’t explain any of this to Jian.

  Instead, he tapped the jade slip at his side. “The Flourishing Root Scripture is not only about cultivating plants,” he said, his tone even. “It allows me to harmonise with natural energy, stabilise wild Qi, and integrate it gradually.” He gestured to the Serpent’s Veil Lily. “If I use it correctly, I can regulate the energy flow as I absorb it.”

  Jian exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "This is the worst idea we’ve ever had. You know that, right?"

  Tao didn’t argue. He simply waited.

  Jian ran a hand through his damp hair, frustration plain on his face. "You really think you can stabilize wild Qi like that? What if it backfires? What if you miscalculate?"

  "Then we die," Tao said evenly.

  Jian let out a humourless laugh. "Fantastic. You’re really selling this."

  He glanced at the Molten Ember Grass, its faint heat radiating against his fingers. He thought of every other failed breakthrough, every cultivator who had exploded into a mist of flesh and regret. But he also thought of the enemies ahead, their lack of strength.

  "... Damn it," Jian muttered, but there was something in his eyes, an ember of reckless determination. "Fine. But if this goes wrong, I'm haunting you in the afterlife."

  Tao took the Serpent’s Veil Lily, feeling the cold mist curl around his skin. The two plants were complete opposites, yet in this moment, their fates were the same.

  Tao looked up at Jian. "We do this carefully. If we lose control for even a moment, these plants will kill us."

  Jian scoffed, but there was an edge of unease in his eyes. He picked up the Molten Ember Grass, rolling it between his fingers. "We don’t have the luxury of playing it safe. If we waste their potency, we may as well have thrown them away."

  Tao nodded but said nothing.

  Jian lifted the stalk of Molten Ember Grass to his lips and bit down.

  It was as if he had swallowed a sun.

  The moment the plant’s essence entered his system, it erupted. His veins turned into rivers of molten fire, searing through his meridians like a flood of liquid steel. His breath hitched, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat as raw energy surged through him, unchecked and wild. His dantian flared, expanding to contain the influx, but the fire did not slow. It did not settle. It wanted to burn him apart.

  His Molten Flame sprang to life above his palm, but it was not the controlled flicker he had cultivated. It was a storm, writhing and untamed, a beast that threatened to devour him from the inside out. He clenched his jaw, forcing his mind to focus. He had to refine it. He had to take control. But the flame fought him, twisting violently, rejecting his will.

  Tao did not hesitate.

  He pressed the Serpent’s Veil Lily against his palm and activated the Fertile Spirit Nurturing Art. He forced the technique to reverse, dragging the flower’s energy into himself instead of giving.

  Cold.

  A tide of frigid Qi surged through his meridians, the chill so intense it felt like his blood was freezing solid. His limbs went numb, his breath caught in his throat. The energy was dense, suffocating, a force so unrelenting it threatened to lock his meridians in place.

  His Unyielding Mountain Spirit reacted instinctively, straining against the invasive chill, but Tao did not let it reject the energy. Instead, he guided it, forced it into motion, weaving it into his own Qi, shaping it rather than resisting. His vision blurred, his body shuddering under the force of the opposing energies.

  Jian trembled violently; his teeth bared in a silent snarl. His dantian was expanding too quickly, the Molten Ember Grass pushing him beyond his limits, but the energy was not settling. It raged within him, wild and unstable. His meridians burned, stretched past what they could endure. The fourth layer shattered under the force, his body barrelling toward the fifth. But the energy did not stop. It did not slow.

  It was too much.

  A warning flared in Tao’s mind, a whisper from deep within.

  Shenli’s voice slithered through his consciousness, smooth and dark. "Ah, little cultivator, did you miscalculate?"