Chapter Twenty-One: Time Waits for No One!

A long silence passed.

At last, a hoarse, aged voice drifted from Meng Guan's lips.

“Ah, the Breakthrough Pill is truly rare...” He let out a sigh.

Meng Guan shook his head, picking up the teacup at hand, yet never drinking from it. His brows remained tightly knitted, as if still unwilling to let go of this chance.

He had been stuck at the sixth level of Qi Training for so long.

He knew all too well that, if he simply saved up enough spirit stones, he could head to Qingyuan Immortal City and buy a Breakthrough Pill.

But... as a cultivator of the Immortal Market with neither power nor influence, his treatment in Qingyuan Immortal City would be little different from that of a common rogue cultivator.

Within the Immortal Market, cultivators like him enjoyed some small privileges. But once in the greater Immortal City, compared with true disciples of the powerful Golden Core sects, what difference was there between a market cultivator and a wandering rogue?

At best, they knew a bit more than the average rogue. They had a stable residence. A steady income, nothing more.

When it came to actual combat, Immortal Market cultivators were often inferior to those rogues who lived by the blade.

And besides—

The road to purchase a Breakthrough Pill in Immortal City was far from smooth.

Not to mention the many dangers on the way to Qingyuan Immortal City.

Even if one arrived unimpeded, would one's spirit stones be enough to win a Breakthrough Pill at auction?

And even if, by some stroke of luck, one managed to buy a Breakthrough Pill, one would immediately be targeted by others.

Carrying a Breakthrough Pill on the return journey, one would need to be endlessly vigilant.

There was a way to resolve this, of course: spend more spirit stones to lodge at an inn in the Immortal City and consume the Breakthrough Pill on the spot to break through, thus averting disaster.

But who could guarantee that, after securing the Breakthrough Pill, one would still have enough spirit stones to pay for an inn?

If one sought absolute safety, then the time needed to save up spirit stones would only lengthen further.

By then, even if one managed to break through to the late stage of Qi Training with the aid of the pill, there would be no time left to aim for Foundation Establishment.

For most cultivators, achieving Foundation Establishment before sixty was considered ideal.

From sixty onwards, the difficulty of establishing a foundation increased with every year, and the chances of success grew ever slimmer.

Should one fail to reach the peak of the ninth stage of Qi Training and obtain a Foundation Establishment Pill before sixty, it would mean that Foundation Establishment in this life was all but hopeless.

Only with exceptional luck could one succeed after sixty, but such cases were exceedingly rare—perhaps only a handful in a hundred years.

Meng Guan was already forty-three. With his current savings, if he gave it his all and seized the opportunity, perhaps he might just touch the threshold of Foundation Establishment.

If he did not, and continued to drift along as he had, the late stage of Qi Training would likely be his limit in this lifetime.

This was the root of Meng Guan’s inner struggle.

The life he could see stretching before him in the Immortal Market weighed upon him like a heavy burden.

Nearby, He Song and Wei Fan exchanged a glance, each seeing helplessness reflected in the other's eyes.

Having known Meng Guan for so many years, they both understood him well.

Judging by his current state, Meng Guan was still wavering, torn between choices.

Though they had already offered their advice before, they understood the predicament Meng Guan now faced.

Should he fight for a chance at Foundation Establishment? Or play it safe and remain at the late stage of Qi Training for life?

Such a choice was indeed agonizing.

At this point, He Song and Wei Fan could only hold their tongues.

Advice needed to be given only once; if it could be heard, it would be. To repeat it would only breed annoyance and be counterproductive.

Moreover, to obstruct another’s path to the Dao was tantamount to enmity; only because the three of them were so close could they even speak of it.

Had their relationship been less, Meng Guan might well have cut ties with them over their earlier words.

Time slipped by, moment by moment.

He Song poured tea for each of them once more.

Meng Guan still did not drink, his brows furrowed, lost in his own world.

Wei Fan raised his cup to He Song in silent acknowledgment, the helplessness in his eyes plain to see.

He Song did the same, his heart heavy with resignation.

They had each offered their counsel, yet Meng Guan’s heart was still caught in turmoil.

At this point, all He Song could do was wait for Meng Guan to arrive at his decision.

Whatever the outcome, he could only offer his blessing, not force his will.

To block another’s path to the Dao was no trivial matter.

Even knowing that the Scarlet Spirit Gold Mine was a pit of fire, He Song could not, based merely on his own suspicions, stand in Meng Guan’s way.

This was Meng Guan’s own chosen path.

“Perhaps, with his cultivation at the sixth stage of Qi Training, Meng Guan will be able to protect himself within the Scarlet Spirit Gold Mine,” He Song mused.

His gaze met Wei Fan’s, both eyes tinged with concern.

For a time, the two sat in silence, at a loss for what to do.

A long silence settled over the room.

After some time, Meng Guan finally opened his eyes and, in a single motion, downed the tea in his hand.

Draining the cup in one gulp, Meng Guan broke into a broad grin.

“Hahaha! I, Meng Guan, was born with five spiritual roots and have cultivated in the Thick Earth Courtyard since childhood. Alas, my talent was lacking, and I could not enter the outer sect of the Thick Earth Sect, being relegated to Zhushan Immortal Market instead.

I once believed Foundation Establishment in this life was beyond me, yet never imagined fate would grant me this sliver of opportunity!” Whether speaking to himself or recounting his life, emotion flooded Meng Guan’s voice.

At this, He Song’s face grew grave, his sense of foreboding deepening.

Wei Fan seemed about to speak, but uncertainty and anxiety kept him silent.

“Time waits for no one! Rather than grow old and fade away here, I would stride forward and seize this fleeting chance!” At last, under the gaze of He Song and Wei Fan, Meng Guan spoke with resolute conviction.

Determination shone clearly across his face.

His right hand gripped the teacup so tightly that even as it began to crack and splinter, he seemed not to notice.

A shaft of sunlight slanted through the window, falling directly upon Meng Guan’s hand—as if, in that moment, he held the very sunlight within his grasp.

Silence.

He Song was silent.

Wei Fan likewise remained silent.

For a time, the only sounds in the room were the faint breaths of the three men; one could have heard a pin drop.

After a while—

“Old Meng, when you set out this time, who knows when we’ll meet again. Is there anything you wish to entrust to us?” Seeing that Meng Guan’s resolve was set, He Song knew further persuasion was futile. Instead, he turned to practical matters.

The Scarlet Spirit Gold Mine was fraught with danger; Meng Guan’s chances of survival were slim.

Even with his sixth-level Qi Training cultivation, years spent in the Immortal Market, a wealth of spirit stones, and no shortage of magical tools and talismans, He Song still could not be sure Meng Guan would return alive.

Rather than risk dampening Meng Guan’s spirit with further warnings, it was better to ask if he needed any assistance, perhaps clearing away worries and giving him a better chance.

Off to the side, Wei Fan tensed at these words, but then seemed to realize something and paused.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but in the end, only let out a sigh.

He too understood.

To attempt persuasion now would only plant doubts in Meng Guan’s heart; it was better to help him resolve his worries, and perhaps grant him a sliver more hope.