Chapter 55: Giant Spirit Pill

“Thank you, Dao Master!”

Lin Jue bowed deeply, received the three pills, then returned to his seat, sat cross-legged, and examined the pills.

What came next had nothing to do with him.

The young Daoists of Immortal Source Temple looked at each other, until finally someone rose and performed a spell.

Some summoned a light breeze, some exhaled a clear wind, some stirred the blue smoke in the room, some lit the incense sticks, and two or three young Daoists exerted all their strength, blowing over a wooden board. The most determined among them, the young Daoist Yun Yi, produced the strongest wind—nearly lifting his robes and scattering his hair. Yet no one matched the sheer force Lin Jue had summoned.

The junior sister missed toppling the board by a hair’s breadth, yet still received two pills.

“That concludes today’s session.”

Wang Ji Zi, seated at the head, spoke loudly:

“You have now heard the Dao, cultivated your methods, and learned your arts—you have truly entered the path of cultivation. Even if you left the mountain today, you could still call yourselves Daoists with some attainment.”

“Do not grow complacent!”

“This test means nothing. The real trials lie ahead—long and arduous!”

“We Daoists should dwell here in peace, cultivating without obsession over techniques. But the world is growing chaotic now—you must never abandon your practice of spells.”

“The Dao is the path of cultivation; the art is the means to protect the Dao.”

“...”

A young Daoist’s voice came from below: “Master, what level must one reach to become an immortal?”

“Become an immortal? Hmph...”

Wang Ji Zi chuckled, sounding both wistful and dismissive:

“This path is long...

“Those who receive the talisman from the Talisman Sect may set up altars and perform rites—they may be called Masters of Art. Cultivate well, hone your spells. When you can use them to expel demons, and the people below call you Master of Art, then you may accept the title without shame.”

“As long as you remain mortal, you are but flesh and blood. When you one day shed your mortal form and transform your essence, you will truly attain the Dao and become a True Person.”

“As for becoming an immortal—a True Person who wishes to may do so in a single step.”

“Beyond that lie the Great Ones and True Immortals.”

“That is ancient history now.”

“Don’t look too far ahead. In over a thousand years, Immortal Source Temple has had no confirmed True Persons—we don’t even know if any ever existed. I, old Daoist, have never heard of one.”

“...”

Wang Ji Zi, as if exhausted, waved his hand and dismissed them.

Lin Jue knew Immortal Source Temple recruited far more disciples than Floating Hill Temple: its current disciples already spanned three generations. Most of the young Daoists seated in the hall were not Wang Ji Zi’s direct students—they were disciples of his disciples, or disciples of his younger brothers, or even his grand-disciples. But because Wang Ji Zi possessed the highest Dao attainment in the temple, and Dao was paramount, he was the one who taught them all in their early days—expounding on the nature of Heaven and Earth, the essence of Yin-Yang and spiritual resonance, the Five Qi, and the cultivation of heart and nature, to ease their path forward.

Now that they had entered the realm of spirit arts and learned a basic spell, they would likely never again hear Wang Ji Zi’s teachings.

Lin Jue rose and bowed deeply.

The junior sister, puzzled, followed suit.

They rose and walked out.

Today was truly a fine day.

Below lay white clouds, above stretched emerald sky; between them rose strange granite peaks, yellowish with hints of blue and black, a single ancient pine rooted in a rock crevice, its branches slanting outward. White clouds rolled, the azure heavens left unblemished—all was bright.

The temple’s pavilions and towers, linked by stone steps, held Daoists hurrying through shadows to avoid the sun, wild deer strolling calmly without fear, incense burners exhaling thin blue smoke, and the distant chime of bronze bells chanting sutras.

To step forward felt like walking into a painting.

“Brother, why did you leave first? Why not wait for the others to perform their wind spells, then blow a stronger wind and humiliate them?” The junior sister stroked the wild deer’s antlers, turning to her brother with wide, curious eyes.

“Wouldn’t that just make you another master and Wang Ji Zi?”

“Oh!! So that’s how it is!” The junior sister’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “No wonder!”

“...”

“How did you know?”

“...”

At that moment, a voice came from behind.

“Brother Lin Jue!”

Lin Jue and the junior sister, along with the fox beside them, turned.

Several young Daoists from Immortal Source Temple approached—their leader was Yun Yi, Wang Ji Zi’s personal disciple, gifted and fiercely competitive.

Compared to his earlier resentment and silent rivalry during past teachings, his expression now was softer, yet still firm and unyielding.

Lin Jue did not know why he had come.

The young Daoist stepped forward, bowed, and said: “The Floating Hill Temple’s ability to discern character and fate is truly remarkable. Brother, your talent is exceptional. Today, in the wind spell, we humbly yield.” He paused, then continued, lowering his gaze to avoid Lin Jue’s eyes but not his voice: “Master is right—Daoists should not overvalue techniques. But the world has changed... I still wish to keep a spirit of competition with you.”

He paused again. “Master said that next year, and every year after, the temple will hold a spell competition. I hope you will come again.”

“Hmm?”

Was he treating Lin Jue as a benchmark?

If so, Lin Jue was quite pleased.

Lin Jue thought for a moment, then returned the bow:

“My master said our two temples have been friends since our founding masters, and our lineages have always been connected—we need not draw sharp lines. If you need us, we will come. The distance is not great.”

“Brother, your compassion.”

“Compassion.”

The two groups parted.

One turned inward toward the inner courtyard; the other headed out toward the mountains.

The junior sister still stroked the deer’s antlers, smiling at him: “Brother, why are you going to compete with them again?”

“This is different.”

“...”

The junior sister scratched her head, withdrew her hand, and followed him forward, her thoughts already shifting—she urged him to join her to pick wild peaches in the mountains.

Slowly, they returned to the temple.

“Brother, when do we eat these pills?” The junior sister asked, holding the peaches in her lap.

“We should ask Second Brother.”

“Of course!”

So they took the pills to consult Second Brother.

Second Brother glanced at them once, then said:

“These are Giant Spirit Pills. Judging by their aura, they’re inferior grade. The Daoists of Nine Dragons Temple are skilled alchemists—if these came from them, they’re likely the dregs of their Giant Spirit Pills, rolled into pills. I don’t know their recipe, but I know they increase strength and strengthen the body—a relatively advanced pill, difficult to make.”

“This should be called Small Spirit Pill—its effects are limited, but for our Spirit Art sect, it’s rare. Many wandering Daoists below have decent cultivation and spells, yet weak bodies, and suffer for it. Wang Ji Zi likely foresaw the world growing more chaotic and sought these pills to protect his disciples.”

“Wang Ji Zi’s intentions are truly thoughtful...

“By the way, take these pills in the morning. Taking them at night will keep you awake.”

Nearly identical to what Wang Ji Zi said.

But Lin Jue had ancient texts.

The next morning, he swallowed the pill.

Immediately, a strange sensation arose.

With a thought, the ancient book appeared in his hand.

“Whoosh...”

He turned to a new page:

Kui Wood Pill, also called Giant Spirit Pill.

In the world grow rare plants and herbs, mostly in remote deep mountains, one of which is called Kui Wood. When ancient enough, it develops spiritual essence. When used as the main ingredient in a pill, it enhances strength.

After ingestion, for one hour, one feels dizzy and nauseous, skin tingles and itches as if bitten by insects. During this time, no matter what one does, one feels no fatigue, possessing boundless strength. After one day, the entire body aches; recovery takes three to five days, or up to seven or eight. After recovery, the body grows stronger.

Lin Jue gripped the page, listening closely.

“...

“Many know only that Giant Spirit Pills increase strength and strengthen the body, but few know that within the day after ingestion, one must train, exert force, or the pill’s effect will be wasted.”

“And what one does matters.”

“If you run after taking the pill, you will become better at running after recovery. If you lift a cauldron, you will become better at lifting. If you wield a sword, you will become better at swordplay.”

“It’s laughable—even many alchemists don’t know this. They only know that taking the pill makes one restless unless one expends energy.”

“...

“Though these pills aren’t so dangerous that one must learn the ingestion method before consuming them, those who have studied the method benefit far more.”

“Also, the effects of such pills are not infinite. The same pill yields diminishing returns—the third or fourth pill brings little benefit. To advance further, one must make better pills.”

“...”

The full recipe was also listed.

“It seems some pills can only be taken after learning the ingestion method—or even after mastering it.”

Lin Jue picked up a clue.

That made sense.

His brow furrowed, his expression changed.

The effects were coming on fast.

He now felt dizzy and nauseous, yet not sleepy at all—his mind was clear, his energy boundless, as if he possessed infinite strength. His scalp and skin tingled and itched, just as if bitten by insects, urging him to expend his strength immediately.

Quickly push open the door and step out.

Just then, he met his junior sister.

The junior sister widened her eyes and stared at him: “Senior brother, did you take the pill? After I took mine, my stomach hurt and my skin itched.”

“Same here!”

“What should we do? Find Fifth Senior Brother? Or Second Senior Brother?”

“It should be normal.”

“Then what do we do? Ignore it?”

“Let’s do some work first.”

“That’s right!”

The junior sister’s eyes lit up, deeply agreeing.

Indeed, that’s how it is—

When you’re unhappy, doing work makes you forget your unhappiness; when you’re unwell, doing work makes you forget your discomfort.

So Senior Brother feels the same way too!

The junior sister was greatly startled.