Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Alchemy Begins!

The old healer stood quietly at the edge of the cliff, hands clasped behind his back. Behind him, Lu Zhe wore an expression of bewilderment.

The old healer’s white robe fluttered in the mountain wind, his long black hair trailing to his waist and hips, also whipped about by the breeze, lending him an air of effortless elegance and flair.

After a moment, the old healer spoke softly. “Little Lu.”

Lu Zhe bowed respectfully. “Disciple present.”

The old healer paused for a while before continuing, “Yesterday, your master was in high spirits and concocted a pill.”

Upon hearing this, Lu Zhe smiled and asked, “Really? What kind of pill?”

The old healer let out a slight sigh and said with a faint tone, “I don’t know either. I just gathered some herbs at random and muddled through refining one. But after taking it, my legs couldn’t move, and now I’m stuck here—so cold.”

As he finished, he turned his head, his face twitching and two lines of tears slipping down his cheeks.

Lu Zhe was left speechless.

Then, the old healer continued, “I had meant to refine an antidote, but with my legs immobile, I can’t do it.”

Lu Zhe was taken aback, then hesitantly asked, “Master, do you mean…?”

The old healer replied placidly, “I want you to refine this antidote.”

Lu Zhe’s heart gave a jolt—just as he suspected.

He was about to speak when the old healer waved his hand and said, “Don’t worry. This antidote is, at most, a Silver-grade pill; you should be able to manage it.”

Lu Zhe exclaimed anxiously, “But I have no knowledge of alchemy at all!”

The old healer simply smiled, and a breezy, carefree air radiated from his features. “No matter. The first step is always the hardest. Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.”

Lu Zhe wanted to protest further, but the old healer reached into his robe and pulled out a sheet of paper, pristine as snow. He tossed it lightly, and it drifted toward Lu Zhe.

Lu Zhe caught the floating slip and saw several lines written in neat script—about five different kinds of herbs, all common and easily found in the mountains. There were also a few lines explaining the finer points and methods to observe during the alchemical process.

Lu Zhe studied the paper for a moment, then looked up at the old healer and asked, “Master, I’m sure these herbs can be found in the mountains, but where are the utensils for refining?”

The old healer smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, I have them here. You just need to gather the herbs.”

Lu Zhe nodded, bowed again, and hurried down the mountain.

Lu Zhe had memorized the “Compendium of Hundred Herbs” his master had given him, knowing it backward and forward. The herbs listed on the slip were all recorded within it, so he quickly found the five needed for the antidote among the rolling hills.

He placed the gathered herbs into his storage ring and ran back to the spot where his master stood.

Arriving on the flat stone at the cliff’s edge, he found the old healer still there, shivering.

Rolling his eyes in resignation, Lu Zhe came up behind him. “Master, I’ve brought the herbs.”

The old healer nodded, then tapped his own storage ring. With a flash of light, a set of alchemical utensils and a cauldron appeared before Lu Zhe.

Examining the items, Lu Zhe recognized most of the tools for preparing medicine; only the cauldron was unfamiliar.

He took a closer look. The cauldron was round and entirely red, standing on three stout legs as thick as an adult’s thigh. It had two handles, each carved with strange patterns resembling dragon heads raised to the sky in a roar. The whole vessel exuded a solid, imposing presence.

With a smile at the corners of his mouth, the old healer watched Lu Zhe’s gaze linger on the cauldron. “This will be your cauldron from now on—Dragon’s Roar.”

Lu Zhe was overjoyed. He bowed deeply. “Thank you, Master.”

The old healer laughed. “Silly boy, no need for such formality with your teacher.”

He looked Lu Zhe over and asked, “Have you gathered the herbs?”

Lu Zhe touched his storage ring, and with a flash, five different herbs appeared before him.

He laid them out neatly and asked, “Master, what should I do next?”

The old healer inspected the herbs and nodded, his smile deepening. “Well done, you’ve picked the right ones. The pill recipe also details the refining method—take a look.”

Lu Zhe took out the recipe, read it carefully, then tucked it away. Gazing at the herbs, he drew a deep breath, pulled an herb resembling a vine into a mortar, gripped it between his knees, and began pounding it vigorously.

Soon, he opened the mortar, removed the crushed herb, and placed it on a yellowed sheet of paper. He repeated the process—grinding or crushing the remaining four herbs—and laid them all out on the paper.

With the herbs prepared, the next step was to fuse them, which required extraction and blending.

Standing up to wipe his brow, Lu Zhe glanced at his immobilized master and hesitated, but finally spoke. “Master, I’ve prepared everything, but I really don’t know how to extract or fuse the pills.”

The old healer nodded. “Your spiritual power is of the fire attribute, and there’s a trace of wood as well. It’s faint, but enough to make you eligible to become an alchemist.” He turned to the red cauldron. “Place your hands on the cauldron and channel your spiritual power into it. Remember, control the heat with your soul force—don’t—”

He was interrupted by Lu Zhe’s urgent, “Master!”

Unperturbed by the interruption, the old healer turned. “What is it?”

Lu Zhe hesitated, then asked, “What exactly is soul force?”

At this, the old healer was stunned. He stared at Lu Zhe in disbelief. “Old Ye didn’t teach you?”

Lu Zhe shook his head. “No.”

The old healer slapped his own forehead, as if annoyed with himself. “No wonder that old rascal left in such a hurry, even chuckling as he went—so this was his trick.”

He looked at Lu Zhe and sighed. “It seems I have to start from the beginning.”

Lu Zhe quickly bowed. “I am eager to learn.”

The old healer sighed again. “Do you know what a Soul Core is?”

Lu Zhe shook his head.

The old healer, seeing this, sighed with regret and explained, “Both the Soul Core and the Spirit Pill are essential for those of us who cultivate. Without either, we’d be reduced to cripples. The Spirit Pill is located in the lower abdomen and stores spiritual power. The Soul Core is at the top of the head and channels soul force. Alchemy requires soul force because our mortal eyes cannot see the internal state of the pill, nor can we control the heat precisely, leading to ruined pills. With soul force, we transmit it into the cauldron, allowing us to perceive everything inside and control the heat, thus completing the alchemical process.”

He paused, then continued, “Everyone is born with a soul, but alchemists have much stronger souls than ordinary people. An outstanding alchemist can control the Soul Core and direct soul force at will. Advancement in rank depends largely on the strength of one’s soul force. Do you understand?”

Lu Zhe nodded. Though his master had rambled on, he miraculously understood: one had to rely on soul force to see the pill within the cauldron.

The old healer looked at Lu Zhe and said, “Your soul force is above average, so refining a Silver-grade pill shouldn’t be difficult for you.”

Lu Zhe nodded, then asked, “How do I transmit soul force into the cauldron?”

The old healer sighed yet again. “Let your mind guide your actions.”

Lu Zhe responded with an “Oh,” then approached the red cauldron, ran his hands over its surface, took a deep breath, and placed both hands upon it.

Alchemy—begins!