Hunger was the last thing Wang Jun remembered.
Not the mild discomfort of missing a meal, but the kind that clawed at the stomach and hollowed out the mind until even breathing felt exhausting. His vision blurred, his thoughts scattered, and before he could form another coherent idea, darkness swallowed him whole.
When awareness returned, he found himself seated before an enormous table carved from crimson wood. The surface gleamed under warm lanternlight, heavy with dishes that radiated fragrance and spiritual energy. Steaming buns, glazed meats, glowing fruits—every plate pulsed with vitality.
He felt powerful. Complete. Satisfied.
Across from him sat his father, calm and dignified, watching him with pride.
Wang Jun straightened his posture, confidence swelling in his chest. He was about to report how he had punished a swindler earlier that day—how justice had been served, and how a rare pill had finally pushed his cultivation to the ninth level of Body Tempering.
He lifted a Spiral-Dragon Bun, steam curling from its golden surface. The spiritual energy within it made his mouth water.
Then—
Everything went black.
A heavy thud echoed through the hall.
The Seventh Young Master of the Wang Clan collapsed face-first into a bowl of Eight-Treasure Spirit Porridge, splashing broth and herbs across the table. Plates clattered. Chopsticks rolled across the floor.
A second later, he slid bonelessly from his chair and struck the polished stone tiles with a dull thump, snoring loudly.
For a heartbeat, the entire hall froze.
"Jun'er!"
Wang Qingtian's jade chopsticks snapped in half.
The Wang estate erupted into chaos.
"Quick, check his pulse!"
"Fetch Doctor Sun—no, summon a cultivator from Qingyun Sect!"
"Could it be a cultivation backlash?"
"Has his qi gone berserk?!"
Servants rushed in all directions. Pills were forced between Wang Jun's lips. Spiritual energy was poured into his body. Silver needles were applied, removed, reapplied.
Nothing worked.
He slept on peacefully, breathing slow and steady, a faint smile on his lips—as though dreaming something pleasant.
His pulse was strong. His meridians stable. In fact, his aura was more robust than ever, as though he were on the verge of another breakthrough.
Which made it even more terrifying.
Wang Qingtian stood rigid, his expression darkening by the second. The air around him grew heavy, pressing down on everyone present.
Then, a trembling voice broke the silence.
"M-Master… I remembered something…"
A skinny servant stepped forward, pale as death.
"This morning… at the town gate… the young master forced a peddler to swallow a pill. The man claimed it was an ancestral treasure…"
Silence crashed down like thunder.
Wang Qingtian's gaze sharpened.
"What peddler?" he asked coldly.
"What pill?"
One Hour Earlier
Morning mist clung to the cobblestones of Shitang Town. The air smelled of damp earth and old stone.
Chang Le's face was pressed into the mud.
Blood mixed with filth as a heavy boot ground into his back, forcing the breath from his lungs. Pain exploded along his spine.
Above him, Wang Jun sneered.
"A nobody like you dares to sell fake pills in my territory?"
He crouched and grabbed Chang Le's jaw, forcing his mouth open.
"Let's see how your own garbage tastes."
A crude pellet—made from crushed bark and pond sludge—was shoved down his throat.
Chang Le gagged. His lungs burned. Panic clawed through him as he struggled helplessly beneath the nobleman's weight.
This wasn't how it was supposed to end.
Sixteen years of misery flashed before his eyes.
His transmigration into this world.
The humiliation of discovering he had no spiritual root.
His parents' deaths.
The years of hunger, scorn, and survival.
Was he really going to die here… over a fake pill?
No.
He refused.
Just as darkness closed in—
A mechanical voice exploded inside his mind.
[Host detected consuming a self-made pill.]
[Activation condition met.]
[Pill Refining System initializing.]
Chang Le's thoughts reeled.
[System Rules:]
• Each pill produces one beneficial effect and one side effect.
• Effects scale with ingredient quality.
• Pills are stored in system space.
• Only pills may be stored.
• Pills cannot be destroyed once created.
• A new batch may only be refined once the previous batch is fully consumed.
• No more than thirty pills per month may be given to non-humans.
[Initialization complete.]
[Starter reward granted.]
[Pill batch created: 3,000 units.]
[Positive effect: +3 months of cultivation.]
[Side effect: forced deep sleep for four months, beginning one hour after consumption.]
Chang Le's mind went blank.
Before he could even process what he'd heard, a surge of dizziness washed over him.
Then instinct took over.
"Wait!" he shouted hoarsely. "Immortal Master—wait!"
Wang Jun paused, eyebrow raised.
"This lowly one admits his crime! I was wrong! But I still possess one real ancestral pill—please, allow me to offer it as apology!"
With a desperate thought, Chang Le summoned a pill from the system.
A smooth, white sphere materialized in his trembling hand. It gleamed faintly, spiritual energy swirling around it like mist.
The moment it appeared, the air changed.
A subtle fragrance spread, clean and refreshing.
Wang Jun's expression shifted.
He snatched the pill, examining it closely.
"It looks convincing," he scoffed. "But how do I know it's not poison?"
Chang Le swallowed and forced tears into his eyes.
"My life is in your hands. Would I dare poison you? If it's fake, you can kill me afterward. If it's real… wouldn't it be a waste to test it on a servant?"
Greed flickered across Wang Jun's face.
He hesitated—then laughed.
"Very well. If I die, you die with me."
Without further thought, he swallowed the pill.
Instantly, power surged through his body.
His aura exploded outward.
His cultivation, stagnant for a year, shattered its bottleneck.
Eighth level—broken.
Wang Jun's eyes widened with joy.
"Search him!" he barked. "See what else he's hiding!"
Servants rushed forward, beating Chang Le and stripping him of everything he owned.
Finding nothing, Wang Jun tossed a small pouch at him.
"Take this and get lost. If I see you again, you die."
Chang Le clutched the pouch and barely managed to crawl away.
Only when he reached his broken shack outside town did he finally collapse.
Then the realization struck him.
The pill's side effect.
Four months of forced sleep.
Panic seized him.
Inside his mind, the system interface glowed faintly:
[Pills remaining: 2,999]
[Consumption progress: 1/3000]
[Next refinement: locked]
He nearly screamed.
If Wang Jun fell asleep, the clan would investigate.
They would find him.
And he would die.
Desperately, Chang Le tested the system.
He fed a pill to a mouse.
An hour later, it collapsed into deep sleep.
Confirmation.
He slumped against the wall, sweat cold on his skin.
Outside, the sky darkened.
Inside, dread grew heavier by the second.
Then—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Someone was pounding on the door.
Chang Le's heart nearly stopped.
"They're here…"