After a long silence, an aged voice finally emerged from Meng Guan's mouth.
"Sigh... Breakthrough Pills are so hard to come by," he murmured, shaking his head.
He casually picked up the teacup beside him but didn't drink from it. His brow remained furrowed, clearly unwilling to completely abandon the opportunity before him.
He had been stuck at the sixth level of Qi Refinement for so long.
He knew well that if he simply kept saving spirit stones, he could eventually travel to Azure Cliff Immortal City and purchase a Breakthrough Pill.
But for someone like him—a powerless and insignificant cultivator tied to an Immortal Market—the treatment he'd receive in Azure Cliff Immortal City would be little different from that of a wandering cultivator.
Immortal Market cultivators only enjoyed certain privileges within their own markets.
In a higher-level Immortal City, compared to the disciples of true Golden Core sects, what difference was there between Immortal Market cultivators and wandering cultivators?
At most, they were just slightly more knowledgeable.
They had a fixed place to live.
A stable income.
But when it came to actual combat ability, Immortal Market cultivators often fared worse than those wandering cultivators who lived by the sword and risked their lives daily.
Moreover, the journey to an Immortal City to buy a Breakthrough Pill wasn't smooth sailing.
The road to Azure Cliff Immortal City was fraught with danger.
Even if he miraculously reached the city without incident, could he guarantee he'd have enough spirit stones to secure a Breakthrough Pill at auction?
And if he was lucky enough to win a Breakthrough Pill, he'd immediately become a target.
Carrying the pill on his return journey would require extreme caution.
There was a solution, of course—he could spend more spirit stones to stay at an inn in the city and consume the Breakthrough Pill to advance before returning.
However, who could guarantee he'd have enough spirit stones left after the auction to afford lodging in the city?
If he wanted to ensure absolute safety, the time needed to save spirit stones would only increase.
By then, even if he managed to use the Breakthrough Pill to reach the late stage of Qi Refinement, he might not have enough time to attempt the Foundation Establishment realm.
For most cultivators, the best age to establish their foundation was before sixty.
From sixty onward, the difficulty of establishing their foundation increased, and the success rate dropped significantly.
If a cultivator failed to reach the ninth level of Qi Refinement and obtain a Foundation Establishment Pill by sixty, it would mean their chances of establishing their foundation were nearly nonexistent.
Only with extraordinary luck could someone establish their foundation after sixty, but such cases were exceedingly rare.
In a century, only a handful managed such a feat.
Meng Guan was now forty-three years old.
With his current savings, if he pushed himself and took a gamble, he might still have a chance to touch the threshold of Foundation Establishment.
But if he didn't take the risk and continued to endure his current life, it was likely the late stage of Qi Refinement would be the peak of his life.
This was the source of Meng Guan's deep internal conflict.
The monotonous, predictable life in the Immortal Market weighed heavily on his heart.
Nearby, He Song and Wei Fan exchanged a glance, both seeing a trace of helplessness in each other's eyes.
Having known Meng Guan for so many years, they understood him well.
From the look on Meng Guan's face, it was clear he was still wavering.
Should he fight for a chance to reach the Foundation Establishment Realm, however slim? Or should he hold back and resign himself to a lifetime stuck in the late stage of Qi Refinement?
It was a difficult choice, one that anyone would struggle with.
At this point, He Song and Wei Fan hesitated to say more.
Advice had already been offered once, and that was enough. If Meng Guan was willing to listen, he would have already taken it to heart.
Saying too much risked causing annoyance and would only backfire.
Moreover, hindering someone's path to enlightenment was akin to severing their connection to the Dao—an offense as grave as killing their parents.
Such a discussion could only happen because the three of them were close friends.
If their relationship wasn't so strong, Meng Guan might have turned against them already for what they had said earlier.
Time ticked away, second by second.
He Song poured another cup of tea for each of the three.
Meng Guan still didn't drink, lost in his own world, brow tightly furrowed.
Wei Fan lifted his cup and gestured to He Song, though the helplessness in his eyes was impossible to hide.
He Song returned the gesture, equally filled with resignation.
They had both tried to persuade him—first He Song, then Wei Fan. Yet Meng Guan's heart was still torn.
At this point, all He Song could do was wait for Meng Guan to reach his decision.
Whether the outcome was good or bad, he could only offer his blessings, not force further persuasion.
Blocking someone's path to the Dao was no laughing matter.
Even if He Song was convinced that the Crimson Spirit Gold Mine was a death trap, he couldn't stop Meng Guan from making his own choice based on mere speculation.
This was the path Meng Guan had chosen.
"Perhaps with his Sixth Level of the Qi Refinement cultivation, Meng Guan will be able to protect himself in the Crimson Spirit Gold Mine," He Song thought briefly.
But as his gaze met Wei Fan's worried eyes, his confidence wavered again.
For a while, neither of them spoke, unsure of what to do.
Silence filled the room.
After a long pause, Meng Guan finally opened his eyes and tipped his teacup to his lips, draining it in one gulp.
With a hearty laugh, he declared:
"Hahaha! I, Meng Guan, was born with Five-element roots. From a young age, I trained at the Vast Earth Academy, only to be relegated to the Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market due to my poor aptitude and inability to join the Vast Earth Sect's outer sect."
"I had thought my dream of Foundation Establishment was out of reach, but now, a sliver of opportunity has appeared!"
Whether speaking to himself or stating facts, Meng Guan's voice was layered with complex emotions.
At this moment, He Song's face grew heavy, a growing sense of unease rising in his heart.
Wei Fan, too, appeared hesitant and uneasy, unsure whether to speak or remain silent.
"Time waits for no one! Rather than wither away here, I'd rather stride forward boldly and seize this fleeting chance!"
Under the weight of He Song and Wei Fan's gazes, Meng Guan finally spoke, his face set with determination.
Now, his expression was resolute.
He clutched the teacup in his right hand so tightly that cracks began to form, yet he didn't seem to notice.
A single ray of sunlight filtered through the window, landing on Meng Guan's hand, as though he were holding the very light itself.
Silence.
He Song was silent.
Wei Fan, too, remained silent.
For a moment, the entire room was so quiet that even the faint sound of breathing seemed loud.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, He Song broke the silence.
"Old Meng, if this is farewell, who knows when we might meet again? Is there anything you need to settle before you leave?"
Seeing that Meng Guan's decision was firm, He Song knew there was no point in further persuasion. Instead, he shifted the conversation, asking if there was anything Meng Guan needed.
The Crimson Spirit Gold Mine was incredibly dangerous. Meng Guan's odds of returning alive were slim, even with his Sixth Level Qi Refinement cultivation. Despite his wealth of resources—spirit stones, artifacts, and talismans—accumulated over years in the Immortal Market, survival was uncertain.
Rather than risk dampening Meng Guan's morale with another attempt to dissuade him, it was better to ask if he needed help, perhaps even increasing his slim chances of survival.
Beside him, Wei Fan's expression shifted to one of urgency. But then, as if realizing something, he froze, a sudden understanding dawning on him.
He opened his mouth, seemingly about to speak, but in the end, only a sigh escaped.
Wei Fan, too, understood now.
Further persuasion would only cast doubt in Meng Guan's heart. It was better to clear any lingering concerns for him. Perhaps that would offer him a glimmer of hope.
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