Monsters also need to cultivate immortality scientifically (5): Competition

Si Qi immediately caught the sect leader’s drift and grinned even wider. “In that case, I’ll refine a hundred batches of pills at once!”  

Let’s bankrupt him!  

The sect leader was practically vibrating with excitement, struggling to keep his glee in check. His expression twisted oddly.  

Refine away! I’ll give you all the materials you need!  

A hundred batches—a hundred batches of supreme-grade pills! Whoever dared stop this, he would fight them myself!!  

Elder Zhou stared at Si Qi as if he’d lost his mind, snapping impatiently, “Who has time for such nonsense? One batch is enough.”  

Even if he wanted more, Chu Feng wouldn’t offer, and he wouldn’t dare ask. This was already pushing it.  

The sect leader nearly lunged forward in protest, but Si Qi beat him to it, widening his eyes in protest. “What ‘time’? I’ll just refine all hundred batches simultaneously. A hundred supreme-grade pills—you do the math on how much ‘reward’ you owe me!”  

Snickers rippled through the disciples below.  

Refine a hundred batches at once? Simultaneously?  

He didn’t even bother drafting his tall tales anymore.  

Not even their master would dare claim he could handle ten furnaces at the same time, let alone a greenhorn like this.  

No wonder the rumors painted him as such a fool. If anything, they were too kind—the reality was even worse.  

Elder Zhou had no patience for this farce, but the sect leader—seemingly deranged—chimed in eagerly: “Yes, yes, no problem! A hundred batches it is!”  

More was even better!!  

Everyone present shot the sect leader strange looks. The disciples, bound by hierarchy, only dared to glance briefly before lowering their heads, silently judging.

Elder Zhou’s brows furrowed in fury as he snapped, “Preposterous! This is a waste of materials! Don’t even talk about a hundred batches—he can’t even refine one properly! And now he wants to attempt so many at once? If he fails, there won’t be any chance to learn from mistakes—those are precious herbs!”  

Then, with a pointed glare at Chu Feng, he added sarcastically, “The sect has never mistreated anyone—there’s no need to grovel like this. Favoritism shouldn’t go this far!”  

The disciples below murmured in discontent. Why was it that they had to carefully ration their materials, meticulously preparing for each refinement with their best focus, while some people—just because they had a powerful master—could demand anything and get it?  

If not for his position requiring neutrality and basic courtesy toward fellow elders, the sect leader would have already cursed him out.  

A hundred batches of supreme-grade pills—Si Qi was willing to refine them, and he dared stop him?! Was he trying to defy the heavens?!  

His tone turned icy. “Our sect is not so poor that we can’t afford materials for a hundred batches! How many resources do I allocate to your Alchemy Peak every month? Three or four times this amount? And what do you give back to the sect? A mere seven or eight hundred mediocre pills—and only if the sect pays even more in exchange! What, it’s fine when you use them, but not others? These herbs don’t have your Alchemy Peak’s name on them!”  

The disciples below seethed silently. What else would those herbs be used for if not refining? And now they were being scolded for being worse than some newcomer who would just waste them—  

The sect leader waved a hand decisively. “This contest will proceed with Si Qi refining a hundred batches at once. As for Elder Zhou’s disciple—one batch is enough.”  

Elder Zhou nearly choked on his rage. If the sect leader insisted, then the materials would come from his coffers—the Alchemy Peak wouldn’t contribute a single leaf.  

Stubbornly, he retorted, “And how do we judge the results? Surely you won’t claim victory just because he refines two passable batches out of a hundred?”  

The sect leader pondered a fair compromise, but Si Qi cut in breezily: “Easy—count the numbers and quality! Average the results across all batches! Total the successful pills, divide by a hundred, and that’s my output per furnace. As for quality…” He smirked. “If every pill is supreme-grade, is there even a contest?”

The disciples below couldn’t hold back their laughter anymore, covering their mouths as they whispered mockingly to each other:  

“Then I’m afraid he won’t even get a single pill per furnace!”  

“Supreme-grade pills? Hahahaha—”  

“He says it like it’s real—I’m dying of laughter!”  

The sect leader sent someone to fetch materials from the sect’s storeroom, instructing, “Bring as much as possible—don’t you dare hold back!” The disciple looked utterly bewildered but hesitantly left to comply.  

Meanwhile, Si Qi turned to Elder Zhou and said, “How’s your stockpile? You do have enough supreme-grade pills saved up, right? If you lose and can’t pay up, you’ll lose all face—inside and out.”  

Elder Zhou scowled. “What, if you refine ten thousand batches and one supreme-grade pill appears, do I really have to compensate you tenfold?”  

Si Qi smirked. “Think a hundred batches is unfair to you? Fine. If even one of my hundred furnaces produces worse results than your disciple’s, I’ll compensate you with three treasures—no limit!”  

Elder Zhou’s eyes lit up with greed, and he immediately turned to Chu Feng. “Immortal Venerable Chu, your disciple said it himself! What do you say?”  

Chu Feng remained calm, even stroking Si Qi’s head soothingly as he replied indifferently, “Naturally, as my disciple said—no limit on compensation.”  

Then, glancing at Si Qi’s barely contained excitement, his fingers practically twitching like a fly rubbing its hands, he lifted his gaze and fixed Elder Zhou with an icy stare. “And you—do not go back on your word.”  

Elder Zhou’s face flushed with excitement. Without hesitation, he declared, “Of course! This elder never breaks his promises!”  

Si Qi grinned. “Then swear a Heart Demon Oath!”  

Elder Zhou’s expression darkened. Heart Demon Oaths were no small matter for cultivators—breaking one could lead to everything from cultivation stagnation due to inner demons to instant death on the spot.  

Chu Feng watched him expressionlessly. After a long, tense pause, Elder Zhou gritted his teeth.  

There was no way this brat could refine a hundred batches at once, let alone produce supreme-grade pills!  

Meanwhile, he stood to gain over a hundred supreme-grade treasures—this risk was worth taking!  

With a stiff nod, he growled, “Fine! This elder swears on his Heart Demon!”

With gritted teeth, he declared, “Fine, so be it!”  

He pressed his thumb and pinky together against his palm, raising the other three fingers toward the sky as he uttered the Heart Demon Oath:  

“If Si Qi refines supreme-grade pills on the spot, this elder shall gift him tenfold the number of pills of equal quality.”  

“Should I break this vow, may heart demons plague me unto death!”  

Si Qi listened, then grinned in satisfaction, his sharp little canines peeking out as he covered his mouth, eyes sparkling like stars.  

He turned to Chu Feng and chirped, “Master, once I get all those pills, I’ll give them all to you—just to make you happy!”  

Chu Feng patted Si Qi’s head again, a faint trace of amusement flickering in his eyes.  

“No need. The reward is yours—keep it.”  

The disciples watching this exchange felt a sour pang in their hearts. Tch, what a smooth-talker. He didn’t contribute a single thing, won’t pay any price, yet with just a few words, he got the Immortal Venerable wrapped around his finger—and even had the gall to claim he would give all the rewards to his master! As if! He was just making empty promises because he knew he couldn’t deliver!  

Meanwhile, the disciple sent to fetch materials from the storeroom had drawn quite a crowd. The sheer volume of precious spiritual herbs—and the hundred cauldrons hauled out—couldn’t escape notice.  

Since the sect leader hadn’t ordered secrecy, the disciple vented freely, dramatically recounting the absurd exchange between Si Qi and Elder Zhou in vivid and worthy detail.  

The onlookers seethed:  

“That Si Qi has no sense of his own limits!”  

“All these materials—just for him to waste? Ugh… Remember how much effort I spent just to exchange for one Jade Root Grass in the disciple hall? Now look—hundreds of them, handed out like nothing!”  

“And that’s not even the worst of it! Have you seen how many precious pills he’s burned through lately? A few hundred Jade Root Grasses are nothing in comparison!”  

“What is the sect leader even thinking?!”

“Is it just because Si Qi is Immortal Venerable Chu’s only disciple? Even so, this is going too far…”  

“Come on, let’s go see for ourselves!”  

Seeing several sect elders flying toward the Alchemy Peak with displeased expressions, the disciples eagerly followed, hoping to witness the confrontation between the elders, Immortal Venerable Chu, and the sect leader—and to see just how embarrassingly Si Qi would fail under such “high expectations”!  

A large crowd swarmed into the Alchemy Peak, the elders’ gazes filled with undisguised disdain as they glanced at Si Qi. They offered Chu Feng a perfunctory bow before turning to the sect leader, their expressions stern.  

The sect leader hadn’t expected a “simple test” to draw so much attention. Faced with the elders’ questioning looks, he felt somewhat awkward.  

The contest hadn’t even started yet—he couldn’t just blurt out how incredible Si Qi was right in front of Elder Zhou.  

Even if he did, who would believe him without proof?  

And what if Elder Zhou, sensing danger, backed out? Then this perfect opportunity to teach him a lesson would be wasted—and Si Qi might not even bother proving himself anymore.  

So he evaded vaguely, “They’re just some materials—why the fuss?”  

The elders fumed. “Just some materials? And what about next time? What if that brat decides he’s no good at cultivation or alchemy and tries talisman-making or artifact-forging instead? Will you let him waste resources like this too?”  

The sect leader instinctively replied, “Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”  

If Si Qi truly had talent in those areas—if he was an all-around genius—wouldn’t that be a tremendous boon for the sect?!  

The elders: ???  

What did you just say?  

Sect Leader, have you been possessed?!  

Putting on a stern face, the sect leader barked, “Enough! This commotion is unbecoming! It’s just a test—watch quietly or leave!”  

The elders exchanged frustrated glances but ultimately retreated, scowling.  

They took positions around the hall, observing the two contestants—the Alchemy Peak’s junior disciple and Si Qi—facing off in the center.  

The junior disciple, under the scrutiny of so many and his master’s repeated “encouragements” (threats), was visibly nervous.  

Despite being a capable cultivator, it took several deep breaths before his trembling fingers steadied. He retrieved a cauldron and herbs from his storage pouch, methodically preparing with practiced motions.  

His technique was precise, his movements fluid—clearly the work of someone well-versed in alchemy. Even a layman could tell he was a skilled pill-refiner, radiating confidence.  

Elder Zhou watched, his expression gradually easing into satisfaction.  

The Spirit Recovery Pill wasn’t complex—any alchemist with basic knowledge would have learned it, given its fundamental importance.  

It was like stir-fried greens: whether made by a Michelin chef or a street cook, the difference in taste wouldn’t be drastic. In fact, the street cook, from sheer repetition, might even do it better.  

Elder Zhou, though a master alchemist, knew that refining this pill wouldn’t showcase his full prowess. At most, his version would be slightly better—more refined in heat control and technique—but the gap wouldn’t be vast.  

Only with advanced recipes would true mastery shine.  

Thus, entrusting this contest to his junior disciple didn’t worry him.  

Only after ensuring his disciple’s smooth progress did Elder Zhou spare a glance at Si Qi.  

And what he saw nearly made him laugh aloud.  

What in the world was that kid doing?  

Hundreds of disciples and elders stared in disbelief as Si Qi dismantled herbs into parts—keeping leaves here, grinding roots there, even extracting juices and discarding the rest.  

Was this pill-refining or cooking?! Was he even taking this seriously?!  

The elders trembled with outrage, repeatedly hissing, “I’m stopping this—he can’t keep wasting resources!” But the sect leader blocked them every time, while Chu Feng’s icy gaze warned against interference.  

“……”  

Grudgingly, the elders backed down, faces twisted in frustration.  

“This is too much.”

The elder deliberately didn’t lower his voice as he complained to a fellow elder:  

“Back then, the master favored him with all the best resources—fine, we gritted our teeth and endured it, all because of his blessed destiny. But what is his disciple, that we must bend over backward for him too? Are our disciples not disciples? Must everything go to their master-disciple pair? Is this still Lingxiao Sect, or just Chu Feng’s personal domain?”  

The sect leader’s gaze snapped toward them, his expression terrifying. “Silence!”  

“……”  

The elders fumed but ultimately didn’t dare escalate—not against the sect leader, and certainly not against Chu Feng.  

Below, the disciples whispered among themselves:  

“I don’t know much about alchemy, but… is Si Qi doing it wrong?”  

“Wrong? He’s butchering it!”  

“Just compare him to that junior brother over there—that’s the standard procedure.”  

“Who in their right mind dismantles herbs, extracts juices, and throws the rest away… Ugh, just watching hurts my soul.”  

Some Alchemy Peak disciples grew increasingly agitated:  

“The Spirit Recovery Pill recipe is crystal clear—these are the required ingredients! Generations of master alchemists refined this formula to perfection, yet this guy dares discard the Spirit Source Fruit and only use two veins from the Golden Dawn Leaf?! My heart aches just watching!”  

“I’d held a sliver of hope—since he’s Immortal Venerable Chu’s disciple, surely he couldn’t be as worthless as the rumors say. He sounded so confident earlier, I thought maybe he really was skilled… But seeing this mess? Yeah, miracles don’t happen that easily.”  

“Who does he think he is? Modifying a millennia-old recipe on a whim? This is insanity.”  

“All those materials… wasted.”  

“Is he really refining a hundred batches at once? If those were given to us, how many pills could we have made…”  

Chu Feng listened to the murmurs, his expression icy and unreadable.  

The sect leader, fearing Chu Feng might punish the disciples in a fit of anger, hurriedly reassured, “They’ll understand soon—just wait…”  

Chu Feng replied coldly, “Understand? They’ll never change.”  

The sect leader was puzzled. “What do you mean?”  

Chu Feng’s face remained stony, uninterested in explaining further.  

Prejudice was already deeply rooted. Even if Si Qi refined countless pills before their eyes today, shocking them all, the next time he did something unbelievable, the same people would inevitably cry, “Impossible!” or “I refuse to believe you!”  

Some minds were simply unshakable.

Just as in the past, no matter how hard Chu Feng tried to make people see his efforts beyond his blessed destiny, no one ever believed that his achievements came from his own hard work rather than his fate.  

“You say you worked hard? Who in the cultivation world doesn’t? Why is it that only you succeed with effort? It’s only because of your destiny!”  

Chu Feng never resented his fortunate fate—it was undeniably a good thing.  

But he would always rage against the prejudice of others.  

As someone born with an extraordinary destiny, Chu Feng had been subjected to peculiar gazes since childhood. His life was far from what many imagined.  

Elders valued him—some even flattered and fawned over him, treating him like an investment where lavish gifts now would yield greater returns later.  

When he achieved the unimaginable, people said, “Of course he did.” The moment he fell slightly short, skeptical, disapproving stares would immediately pierce through him, as if he had committed some unforgivable sin.  

Peers envied him, feared him, worshipped him. Some kept their distance; others approached with hidden agendas. Every so often, he’d hear whispers like—  

“If not for his destiny and the sect leader’s treasures, how could he progress so fast?”  

“If I were him, I could do the same.”  

—casually erasing all the effort he had poured into his path.  

As his strength grew and his fame spread, it became harder to find anyone who treated “Immortal Venerable Chu” as simply “Chu Feng.”  

So he grew colder. And lonelier.  

Until he met Si Qi—a person with the worst possible destiny, yet one who refused to submit to fate, who kept defying expectations and creating miracles.  

Si Qi was the living embodiment of his deepest wish, proof that his ideals could become reality.  

Without relying on destiny, Si Qi carved his own path through sheer ability.  

No matter how others belittled or mocked him.  

Chu Feng knew he would succeed.  

Si Qi lived the life Chu Feng had always yearned for.  

Watching Si Qi pull out three batches of damaged herbs from his storage pouch, Chu Feng stepped forward. Gently taking the pouch, he let his fingertips linger on Si Qi’s hand for three seconds before saying, “This master will help you.”  

Si Qi grinned, tilting his face up, eyes shimmering like flowing light.  

“Okay!”

Then, Chu Feng retrieved several spiritual plants from the pouch—uncannily, each one had naturally shed the exact parts Si Qi needed, requiring no further processing.  

With the help of this “King of Luck,” Si Qi’s material preparation speed skyrocketed. In no time, a hundred sets of ingredients were ready.  

As Si Qi placed the materials into a hundred cauldrons, murmurs rose from the crowd below:  

“Isn’t that guy only at Qi Condensation? How does he have the spiritual power to ignite flames for so many cauldrons?”  

“Don’t tell me Immortal Venerable Chu is helping? That’s straight-up cheating.”  

“Everyone knows Chu Feng’s destiny is overpowered—anything he touches can’t fail.”  

“Sigh, if only we had such a master. Even a waste could be molded into a ‘genius.’”  

“More like a ‘thief’ stealing credit.”  

Chu Feng loathed this kind of gossip the most. Having endured such passive-aggressive torment himself, he’d developed what others saw as a reclusive, gloomy temperament—prone to inexplicable cold glares or even violent outbursts.  

Ironically, those who received his disdain were usually the most talkative, doubling down on their complaints to mask their own guilt. This created a vicious cycle where anyone slighted by Chu Feng would retaliate with even harsher criticism, refusing to admit they’d been caught gossiping.  

Seeing Chu Feng’s expression darken further, Si Qi chuckled. “What’s the point? You can’t silence them forever. Even if you cut out their tongues, they’d still write or gesture their nonsense. It’s useless.”  

Chu Feng replied, voice forcibly calm, “This master dislikes baseless slander.”  

He could tolerate it directed at himself—he was used to it.  

But he would never allow anyone to freely malign his disciple.  

“Then let’s make them praise me instead.”  

Si Qi grinned, eyes twinkling mischievously. “When I bring them immense benefits, even if I were a villain, they’d twist themselves into knots to flatter me. Isn’t that human nature?”  

Chu Feng paused, seeming puzzled.  

Si Qi: “It’s precisely because you’re too kind that they dare slander you without restraint—don’t you think?”  

Chu Feng fell silent.  

Still smiling, Si Qi took out spirit stones, meticulously placing identical amounts beneath each cauldron.  

Amidst the elders’ and disciples’ horrified gasps—as if witnessing a crime—he ignited all the stones at once, staging a spectacular display of literal money burning.  

The crowd erupted:  

“Madness!”  

“Is he insane?!”  

“Why not just use spiritual fire? Must he waste spirit stones like firewood?!”  

Already incensed by Si Qi’s earlier antics, the onlookers now reached peak outrage at this blatant extravagance. Accusations flew:  

“Take those stones out now!”  

“Do you know how many pills those could buy?!”  

“Who even behaves like this?!”  

“Immortal Venerable Chu must be blind to tolerate him!”  

Si Qi scoffed, utterly unfazed. “Fine. Then don’t use the pills I refine.”  

So passionately indignant—but did he use their resources? Just because they couldn’t have or do something, they attack those who could. And they dared frame it as righteous anger over ‘waste’?  

The experiment wasn’t even done yet. What ‘waste’ had they witnessed? They were condemning him without proof.  

And if they didn’t apologize later, don’t expect forgiveness.  

Turning to the barely contained glee of the sect leader, Si Qi said, “Remember who these loudmouths are. Don’t distribute my pills to them later.”  

“Unless—” His smile sharpened. “They kneel before Chu Feng and me, apologize three times, and offer compensation.”  

“And I won’t accept cheap gifts!”  

The crowd stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Someone snorted: “In your dreams!”  

They would rather leave empty-handed than beg him!  

The sect leader beamed. “No problem!”  

Fools. They had no idea who they’d offended—or what they were about to miss.  

Just wait until regret hits.