Chapter Sixty-Eight: Doctor Lao’s Explanation

Lu Zhe placed both hands on the cauldron, closed his eyes tightly, and, following the instructions of the old physician, began to slowly steady his mind—his soul power—and guide it through his arms into the cauldron.

Suddenly, his mind plunged into darkness; there was nothing, a void. Lu Zhe was utterly baffled: the old physician had said he should see the structure inside the cauldron in his mind, so why was it pitch black?

He withdrew his mind and turned to look at the old physician, only to find him busy fertilizing the plants, whistling as he worked, looking utterly relaxed and content.

Abruptly, Lu Zhe heard the old physician reciting poetry. Listening closely, he caught the lines: “A curved white line shoots forth, verdant grasses and trees flourish anew.”

“You’re overheated, Master,” Lu Zhe said, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation after hearing the poem.

“How so?” the old physician asked, turning around.

“It’s a yellow line, not a white one,” Lu Zhe replied, helplessly.

The old physician looked over and indeed saw the yellow line, then turned back, a bit embarrassed. “The weather’s been dry lately; I suppose I’m a bit overheated.”

After finishing fertilizing, the old physician let out a long sigh and lamented, “Age takes its toll; I’m no longer as steady as I used to be.”

Lu Zhe even shot him a look of disdain, then asked, “Master, you said as long as I channel soul power into the cauldron, I should be able to see what’s inside—so why was it all darkness?”

“Did you light the fire?” the old physician retorted.

“Uh…” Lu Zhe was momentarily speechless. He hadn’t started the fire inside, so of course it was pitch black without any illumination.

“But I’m not a Spirit Sovereign—how could I light a fire inside?” Lu Zhe questioned, surprised. Materializing spiritual power was a hallmark of Spirit Sovereign experts.

“I never said you needed real fire. Our alchemy cauldrons are forged from a substance called ‘Fire Spirit Stone’, which can sense external fire-attributed spiritual power and thus generate actual flames,” the old physician explained calmly.

“Oh,” Lu Zhe replied, then placed his hand back on the cauldron. He first adjusted his spiritual energy, guiding a thread of fire-attributed power along his meridians to his arm, then gently infused it into the cauldron.

With the infusion, the red cauldron began to warm up—a basic step in preparing the cauldron. Lu Zhe recalled the steps the old physician used in alchemy; although conjuring fire in his palm was beyond his current abilities, he remembered the rest by heart, including warming the cauldron before beginning the concoction.

The old physician watched Lu Zhe, pleased by his patience, then turned to gaze at the undulating mountains ahead.

Soon, the old physician said softly, “That’s enough.”

Lu Zhe opened his eyes and glanced at the neatly arranged medicinal ingredients at his feet. He recalled the steps written in the formula, picked up a handful of medicinal powder, and poured it into the cauldron.

Focusing his soul, Lu Zhe saw the pile of powder tumbling within the flames. The process called for refining the powder into a sticky paste before mixing in the other ingredients.

As the tongues of flame rolled, Lu Zhe clearly saw the powder begin to melt, gradually turning sticky and finally resting in the center of the fire.

Seeing this, Lu Zhe breathed a sigh of relief. But as he relaxed his mind, he lost control of his spiritual power, causing the flames to surge. The refined paste immediately burned black.

Lu Zhe sighed at the sight, then controlled his mind to expel the ruined paste through the waste outlet below.

“Hahaha, couldn’t master the heat, ruined the medicine, right?” The old physician’s teasing laughter rang out.

Lu Zhe withdrew his mind and spirit power; without his support, the flames in the cauldron soon faded and died.

“In alchemy, control is everything. That’s why alchemists have stronger soul power than ordinary people—because control is soul strength. The slightest lapse, and all your efforts are wasted,” the old physician said, still standing where he was.

“So what now? I only gathered one kind of herb,” Lu Zhe said, spreading his hands.

The old physician smiled faintly, took out a pale purple pill from his pocket, and chewed it. After a few warm-up stretches, he turned with a smile toward Lu Zhe.

Lu Zhe wasn’t surprised to see him move; his knowledge of the old physician was limited to his name. He knew nothing else, nor was he qualified to know more yet. The old physician, Elder Ye, and even Old Six’s identities were beyond his current reach. Elder Ye had warned him repeatedly that prying would only invite trouble.

The old physician walked over, patted him gently, and said with a soft smile, “I merely wanted you to understand that alchemy is no easy feat. Many spend years, even decades, to successfully refine a single pill. This is commonplace in our world.”

Lu Zhe nodded thoughtfully.

The old physician watched him, then, after a brief pause, extended his right hand and gave it a gentle shake. Instantly, a small cluster of flames appeared in his palm.

Lu Zhe stared in astonishment—not because the old physician could summon fire in his palm, but because the flame was green.

“This… why is the fire green?” Lu Zhe asked, incredulous.

The old physician smiled calmly. “Did you think fire is always red?”

Lu Zhe nodded, certain.

The old physician chuckled. “Not so. On this vast continent, there are countless bizarre phenomena—including flames.”

He pointed at the fire in his palm. “My flame is green because I once consumed a spirit herb called ‘Three Wonders Green Flame Flower’. For those with fire attributes, it greatly amplifies their power. It also turns the flames of those who eat it green.”

He shook his palm, drawing the flame back into his body, and turned away, hands behind his back. Lu Zhe watched him, noticing a hint of melancholy on his face, as if recalling some sorrow. Just as Lu Zhe wondered, the old physician continued, “We alchemists crave powerful flames—especially those with terrifying temperatures. Only such flames can refine high-grade pills, as the required herbs are difficult to process.”

He glanced at his right hand, sighing softly. “With every advantage comes a drawback. To possess flames of extraordinary heat, one must take risks far beyond the ordinary. I once witnessed a friend succumb to the uncontrollable power of a spirit herb—unable to master its force, he met a tragic end.” He looked again at his right arm.

Lu Zhe nodded thoughtfully. “So, to become a distinguished alchemist, I must find herbs that amplify fire-attributed spiritual power?”

The old physician nodded.

Lu Zhe fell silent.

The old physician stood with hands behind his back, eyes fixed on the descending sun. The twilight cast a beautiful yet subtly sorrowful glow.

Suddenly, Lu Zhe lifted his head sharply and strode to the old physician’s side, his voice unwavering and resolute: “I’ve decided. I will become an alchemist revered by thousands.”

The old physician’s tightly furrowed brow slowly relaxed. A faint smile appeared on his face as he gazed quietly at the setting sun.