CHAPTER 57: CRITICAL

’I forgot to mention... I sensed a very powerful pill back in the Medicine Hall,’ the old man’s voice echoed casually.

Lin Fan froze mid-step.

His eye twitched.

His smile stretched unnaturally across his face as he clenched his jaw.

"...Excuse me?" Lin Fan said through gritted teeth.

’Hmm? Yes, yes. Strong spiritual fluctuations. Very refined. Possibly something ancient—could’ve helped your cultivation a great deal.’

Lin Fan’s temple pulsed. "And you’re just telling me this now?"

’Well, boy, forgive me for not giving a full spiritual inventory while you were getting verbally slapped around by those brats. I was... distracted.’

Lin Fan exhaled sharply and rubbed the bridge of his nose:

"Great. Just great. Now I have to go back."

The old man snorted:

’Oh? So now you care about cultivation? Color me surprised. For the past few days, you’ve been busy chasing every pair of legs in the sect like a starving dog. And I won’t even mention how badly you’ve been failing at it. At least if you’re going to ignore cultivation to pursue women, you should succeed a little.’

"Shut up!" Lin Fan shouted, loud enough to gather attention.

Every nearby disciple turned toward him in confusion and suspicion.

Lin Fan coughed awkwardly, ducked his head, and hurried away, whispering harshly under his breath:

"For your information, I am focusing on cultivation. Dual cultivation. Ever heard of it?"

The old man chuckled darkly:

’Ah yes, dual cultivation. A noble tradition. But boy... you’re at a low cultivation level. If you tried dual cultivating now, you’d probably combust before the girl even undid her robe.’

Lin Fan’s face flushed with a mix of shame and indignation:

"You’re exaggerating!"

’Am I? Remember when your master flipped you like a sack of turnips? You were unconscious for three minutes.’

"Okay, okay! I get it!"

Lin Fan turned a corner and broke into a light jog, nursing his still-sore ribs while whispering:

"If someone else finds that pill before I do, I swear I’ll—"

’Someone already might have. You know, the Saint was there just before you left. He has that mysterious luck about him. Wouldn’t surprise me if he got to it first.’

Lin Fan stumbled to a stop:

"...What?!"

’Oh, don’t look at me like that. Maybe if you stopped drooling over your master’s chest every thirty seconds, you’d be ahead right now instead of limping behind.’

Lin Fan gritted his teeth and sprinted full speed toward the Medicine Hall, ignoring the sharp pain in his ribs:

"Out of the way!! I’m going to cultivate!!"

More stares followed him, some confused, some pitying.

One outer disciple muttered:

"Wasn’t that the pervert from earlier?"

.

.

.

"No... no... no..." Lin Fan muttered like a broken record, stumbling through the Medicine Hall.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

The moment he turned the corner, he froze in place—his stomach dropped, and his knees nearly gave out.

A small crowd had gathered just outside the hall.

Cheers. Clapping. Whispered praises.

And at the center of it all stood Hei Long.

His robes fluttered lightly, golden spiritual mist still subtly lingering around his form.

His presence was sharper, stronger, and impossibly more refined than before.

Elders nodded at him with admiration. Disciples stared in awe.

He had clearly just broken through.

Lin Fan stood there, unmoving. "It’s impossible... He couldn’t possibly have found it..."

He tried to laugh, to brush it off as coincidence, as if Hei Long had broken through using some normal pill or cultivation method.

Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe it wasn’t the Ancient Golden Pill.

But then, the old man’s voice echoed dully in his mind:

’Boy... I can sense the pill inside him. Just a trace remains—a sliver of spiritual essence. It’s nearly all been absorbed. But there’s no doubt... he took it.’

Lin Fan’s expression crumbled.

His fists trembled uselessly at his sides.

"That was supposed to be mine..." he whispered. "That was supposed to be my first step... to becoming powerful."

Lin Fan’s eyes reddened—not from anger, but the sheer injustice of it.

As if sensing his gaze, Hei Long turned slightly.

Their eyes met.

Hei Long smiled.

It wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t kind.

It was worse—it was casual.

Effortless.

Like he hadn’t even tried to steal this moment... he had simply reached out and taken it while Lin Fan fumbled in circles.

And then, Hei Long looked up—at something only he could see.

Hovering faintly above Lin Fan’s head, a translucent golden panel flickered into view for just a moment:

[Major Opportunity Stolen – FATE DAMAGE CRITICAL]

[Fate Value Reduced!]

[Protagonist: 1000 Fate Points Remaining]

Hei Long’s eyes widened slightly:

’Holy shit...’

He quickly composed himself, though inwardly he marveled at the implications.

It was no wonder the drop had been so massive—this wasn’t just a minor boost—

The Ancient Golden Pill was supposed to be Lin Fan’s first major leap.

Without it, his cultivation would stagnate for a while, no matter how legendary his bloodline was.

After all, a bloodline is like a divine engine—but it’s useless if you have no fuel.

Meanwhile, Hei Long had just jumped multiple stages and refined his meridians to perfection.

He mused:

’I’m starting to feel bad for the poor bastard...’

"..." Lin Fan turned and walked away stiffly, trembling with a mixture of bitterness and helplessness.

"Just you wait..." he muttered under his breath:

"You may have taken the pill... but I still have my bloodline..."

"..." The old man didn’t respond this time.

Even he knew words wouldn’t help.

Once Lin Fan disappeared...

’That’s enough excitement for one day.’

Hei Long knew it was time to leave before more attention clung to him like barnacles on a boat.

The last thing he needed was to answer questions from elders, especially with the faint spiritual glow still lingering around him from his breakthrough.

With a polite nod and a few parting words—

Hei Long quietly excused himself from the group of admirers.

They didn’t stop him.

They simply watched him walk away.

As Hei Long descended the steps of the Medicine Hall, his expression cooled into something more thoughtful:

’Hopefully, the Saintess is at her home. I want to take her down before the next heroine.’