18: Chapter 18 Ash Root

At daybreak, Lu Chen discovered the person outside the door had left.

There were no footprints on the ground—the stone slabs didn't hold impressions. However, he noticed a fallen leaf on the threshold that had been flattened, as if someone had stepped on it. The leaf was still wet, carrying dew; it had been flattened no more than an hour ago.

"They came at night."

Lu Chen picked up the leaf, glanced at it, and tossed it away. Then he pushed the door open and walked out.

There were already people in the courtyard.

Five or six young men in grey robes were standing by the water channel, washing their faces and rinsing their mouths. Seeing Lu Chen come out, they all stopped what they were doing and turned their heads to look.

Their gazes were different.

Some were curious, some were appraising, and some carried an indefinable meaning—as if they were looking at something that shouldn't be here.

Lu Chen ignored them, walked to the water channel, squatted down, and cupped water to wash his face.

The water was very cold, making his skin tighten.

"Are you the new one?"

The voice came from behind, neither high nor low, just loud enough for everyone in the courtyard to hear.

Lu Chen didn't turn around.

"The one with the Grey Spirit Root."

Another sentence.

This time it wasn't a question, but a statement. The tone carried a sense of "just as expected," as if they had known all along and were just confirming it now.

Lu Chen finished washing his face, stood up, and turned around.

The person speaking stood in the middle of the courtyard, about twenty years old, tall, with broad shoulders and a Deacon jade plaque hanging at his waist. His face was long, his cheekbones high, and his eyes were sunken into their sockets, looking sinister.

Sun Qian.

The Outer Sect Deacon from yesterday.

"Something you need?" Lu Chen asked.

Sun Qian didn't answer, just looked at him, sizing him up from head to toe, as if looking at a piece of merchandise.

"Qi Refining Stage 2. Grey Spirit Root. Eighteen years old." Sun Qian pointed them out one by one. "People like you, in the history of the Danding Sect, have appeared three times in total."

Lu Chen waited for him to continue.

"The first one was named Li Gusheng. Late Stage Foundation Establishment, disappeared overnight. The second one had no name, Qi Refining Level 3, went crazy, and jumped off a cliff." Sun Qian paused. "You are the third."

The others in the courtyard all went quiet.

Some lowered their heads, some took two steps back, as if afraid of getting tainted by some bad luck.

"So what?" Lu Chen asked.

"So—" Sun Qian took a step forward, only three feet away from Lu Chen. "How long do you think you can live?"

Lu Chen looked at Sun Qian.

Sun Qian also looked at him.

Neither of them spoke.

The air in the courtyard seemed to have solidified.

"Longer than you," Lu Chen said.

Sun Qian's expression changed slightly.

Not anger, but surprise. He clearly hadn't expected Lu Chen to answer that way.

"You—"

"Are you done?" Lu Chen interrupted him. "If you're done, move aside, I'm going to the Pharmacy."

Sun Qian stood where he was, his lips moving, the light in his eyes flickering as if something was churning inside, but in the end, he suppressed it.

He stepped aside.

Lu Chen walked past him without looking back.

As he walked out of the courtyard, he heard someone whispering behind him.

"Still so arrogant with a Grey Spirit Root?"

"He has a bone fragment. Didn't you know? Senior Sister Su brought him in."

"bone fragment? What bone fragment?"

"Shh—don't ask. The fewer people who know, the better."

The voices grew distant until they could no longer be heard.

The Pharmacy was the same as before.

The large vat in the courtyard was still there, the red fish were still there, and the water was still just as murky.

Old Zhou was already there.

He sat on the steps at the entrance of the Pharmacy, holding a cattail fan, fanning himself rhythmically. Seeing Lu Chen enter, he lifted his chin.

"You're here?"

"Yeah."

"Today's work—grind this batch of herbs into powder." Old Zhou pointed to a stone mortar in the corner of the courtyard. "Three hundred catties. After grinding, sift it, and after sifting, bag it."

Lu Chen glanced at the stone mortar.

It was large, capable of holding twenty catties of herbs.

Three hundred catties would require fifteen mortar-fulls.

"Alright."

He walked over, picked up the stone pestle, and began to grind.

The herbs were sun-dried and brittle; one strike of the pestle shattered them. But to grind them into powder required repeated grinding—one pass wasn't enough, then two, and if two weren't enough, then three.

Lu Chen ground for about an hour, and his hands began to ache.

It wasn't fatigue; it was the consumption of the Spiritual Qi in his Dantian. Every time he exerted force, Spiritual Qi surged from his Dantian into his arms, increasing his strength. Once the Spiritual Qi flowed out, it wouldn't return on its own; he needed to perform Guiding Qi into the Body to replenish it.

He stopped, sat cross-legged next to the stone mortar, and closed his eyes to guide Qi.

Spiritual Qi surged into his Dantian.

Very little.

He had already consumed three of the qi gathering pills Old Zhou gave him, with four left. Each could only increase a wisp of Spiritual Qi; the four combined didn't even amount to ten percent.

"Too slow."

Lu Chen opened his eyes and looked at his hand.

The pale golden light was still there, but it was fainter than a few days ago.

"Old Zhou." He called out.

The old man walked over and squatted beside him.

"What is it?"

"How does one earn a Spirit Stone in the Danding Sect?"

Old Zhou glanced at him.

"Outer Sect servant, one Low-Grade Spirit Stone a month. Official Disciple, five a month. Inner Sect Disciple, twenty a month."

"I am a servant."

"Correct."

"Besides the allowance, is there any other way?"

Old Zhou thought for a moment.

"Alchemy. The Medicinal Pill you refine can be sold to the School, and Spirit Stones are awarded based on quality. Alchemists are in short supply; the Danding Sect recruits Alchemists from outside every year, offering better conditions than even Inner Sect Disciples."

"I don't know Alchemy."

"Learn," Old Zhou said. "You have a Grey Spirit Root. A Grey Spirit Root has strong perception and can sense temperature changes inside the Pill Furnace. This is a natural talent for Alchemy."

Lu Chen looked down at his hands.

"Teach me."

Old Zhou smiled.

"Why should I?"

"You teach me Alchemy, and I will teach you the characters on the bone fragment."

Old Zhou's smile froze.

He looked at Lu Chen, and his expression changed.

"You know the characters on the bone fragment?"

"I do," Lu Chen said. "I know them all."

"Aren't you afraid I'll tell others?"

"Will you?"

Old Zhou was silent for a few seconds.

Then he reached out his hand.

"Deal."

Lu Chen took it.

Old Zhou's hand was rough, covered in calluses, feeling like grabbing a piece of tree bark.

"Start tomorrow." Old Zhou released his hand. "Finish grinding the herbs today first."

"Alright."

Lu Chen continued to grind.

Pestle after pestle, exerting force, lifting his hand, then exerting force again.

Spiritual Qi was consumed quickly.

He stopped, guided Qi.

Then ground again.

Then guided again.

By the afternoon, the three hundred catties of herbs were ground, sifted, and bagged.

Lu Chen sat on the steps at the entrance of the Pharmacy, panting.

Only thirty percent of the Spiritual Qi in his Dantian remained.

"Too slow."

He was referring to his Cultivate speed.

To go from Qi Refining Stage 2 to Level 3, he needed to fill his Dantian and then let it "crack" once. He currently had only a little over forty percent Spiritual Qi in his Dantian—adding today's consumption, the net amount remaining was less than forty percent.

"I'm still sixty percent away from Level 3."

One month. Sixty percent.

He needed to increase by twenty percent every day.

But one qi gathering pill only increased it by half a percent, one qi gathering pill could increase it by one percent, and one blood essence pill could increase it by one and a half percent.

He needed resources.

Many resources.

Evening.

Lu Chen returned to his dwelling and pushed the door open.

There was something on the table.

A small porcelain bottle.

White, very new, the mouth sealed with wax.

He picked it up, opened it, and sniffed.

A bloody scent.

blood essence pill.

The same as the one Qin Wu gave him.

Under the porcelain bottle was a note.

"Three pills. Use over seven days. Don't let anyone see."

No signature.

But Lu Chen knew who it was.

Old Zhou.

He tucked the porcelain bottle into his chest, sat on the bed, and poured out a blood essence pill.

Red, round, with a thin layer of wax on the surface.

He bit through it.

Swallowed it.

His Dantian exploded.

Spiritual Qi surged in like a flood, filling the empty parts of his Dantian, and then continued to surge in.

Lu Chen gritted his teeth, guiding the Spiritual Qi to move through his Meridians.

One circle, another circle, and another.

The walls of his Dantian were stretched very thin, as if they would crack at any moment.

But they didn't crack.

After the Spiritual Qi finished surging, his Dantian calmed down.

Lu Chen opened his eyes.

The Spiritual Qi in his Dantian had increased from forty percent to fifty-five percent.

"One blood essence pill, an increase of one and a half percent."

Three pills, four and a half percent.

Added to the previous forty percent, that made eighty-five percent.

He was still one and a half percent away from Qi Refining Level 3.

"Enough."

As long as he had ten more qi gathering pills, or two more qi gathering pills, he could fill his Dantian.

But filling it was only the first step.

After filling it, he needed to let it "crack."

Wang Qishan had written on the bamboo slip—when it cracks, you will lose something.

Familial affection was already gone.

This time, it might be friendship.

Lu Chen touched the black thread on his left wrist.

Given by Qin Wu.

The thread hadn't broken yet.

But he didn't know, when friendship was lost, who he would forget.

Mo Wen?

He was already dead.

Qin Wu?

How much friendship was there between them?

From Qingniu Ridge to the Danding Sect, the roads they walked together, the words they spoke together—did these count as friendship?

Lu Chen didn't know.

But he knew that if one day he forgot Qin Wu, he wouldn't look back.

Because looking back was meaningless.

What is lost will not return.

Night.

Someone came outside the door again.

The footsteps were very light, the same as yesterday.

Standing outside the door, not knocking.

Standing for a while, then left.

Lu Chen didn't open his eyes.

He didn't need to know who was outside the door.

Because he knew that person would walk in on their own sooner or later.

The next day.

Old Zhou began to teach Lu Chen Alchemy.

Not in the Pharmacy, but in a small hut behind the Pharmacy.

The room wasn't large, containing a Pill Furnace, made of copper, with runes carved all over its body.

Below the furnace was a fire port; the fire was earth fire drawn from underground—the Danding Sect was built on a fire vein, and the earth fire never went out all year round.

"The first lesson of the Dao of Alchemy—fire control." Old Zhou said. "If the fire is too big, the Medicinal Pill will burn. If the fire is too small, the Medicinal Pill won't congeal. The fire must be steady, as steady as a person's breathing, neither hurried nor slow."

Lu Chen squatted in front of the furnace, looking at the fire in the furnace chamber.

The fire was bluish-white, burning vigorously, the heat waves hitting his face, making his skin ache.

"How to control it?"

"Use Spiritual power." Old Zhou said. "Push Spiritual power into the furnace to suppress the fire. More Spiritual power, the fire becomes smaller. Less Spiritual power, the fire becomes larger."

Lu Chen reached out his hand, pressing his palm against the furnace wall.

The furnace wall was frighteningly hot.

He didn't pull his hand back.

Spiritual power surged from his Dantian, flowed along the Meridians to his palm, and was pushed from his palm into the furnace.

The fire flickered.

Then it became smaller.

It changed from bluish-white to orange-yellow.

"Too much." Old Zhou said. "Release a little less Spiritual power."

Lu Chen retracted thirty percent of his Spiritual power.

The fire flickered and turned back to bluish-white.

"Too little."

He released a bit more.

The fire turned orange-yellow.

"Steady."

Old Zhou nodded.

"Maintain this firepower. When I tell you to stop, you stop."

He walked to the corner of the room, took a small cloth bag from the cabinet, opened it, and poured out a pile of herbs.

"This is the recipe for the peiyuan pill. The simplest pill, used in the Qi Refining stage. Three ingredients—polygonatum, lingzhi, and poria. The ratio is three to one to one."

He weighed the herbs and divided them into five portions.

"I'll teach you the first batch. The next four batches, you do yourself."

Old Zhou poured the first portion of herbs into the furnace and closed the furnace lid.

"The refining time for a peiyuan pill is one incense stick. The fire must be steady and cannot be interrupted midway. If it stops, it's ruined."

Lu Chen pressed his palm against the furnace wall, maintaining the orange-yellow fire.

A quarter of an hour passed.

Two quarters of an hour passed.

The scent of herbs began to drift from the furnace.

It wasn't bitter, but sweet, as if someone were boiling sugar water.

"Almost there." Old Zhou said. "Withdraw the fire."

Lu Chen withdrew his Spiritual power.

The fire went out.

Old Zhou opened the furnace lid and used tweezers to extract a Medicinal Pill.

Brown, round, with a thin layer of light on the surface.

"It's done." Old Zhou placed the Medicinal Pill in his palm and looked at it. "Medium quality. To succeed on the first attempt at Alchemy is not bad."

He handed the Medicinal Pill to Lu Chen.

"Eat it."

Lu Chen took it and swallowed it.

Spiritual Qi surged into his Dantian.

Not much.

A bit stronger than a qi gathering pill, but far inferior to the blood essence Qi Gathering.

"How many peiyuan pills can an Outer Sect servant refine in a month?" Lu Chen asked.

"Unlimited." Old Zhou said. "The School provides the herbs, you hand over thirty percent of the Medicinal Pills refined, and the rest belongs to you."

Lu Chen's eyes brightened.

"Then how many can I refine today?"

"Finish these four batches today first." Old Zhou said. "After you're done, I'll teach you new ones tomorrow."

Lu Chen squatted down and pressed his palm against the furnace wall.

Spiritual power surged in.

The fire turned orange-yellow.

Steady.

The second batch, successful.

The third batch, successful.

The fourth batch, successful.

The fifth batch—ruined.

The fire didn't stay steady; it flickered in the middle, and the Medicinal Pill burned.

Old Zhou used tweezers to extract the charred Medicinal Pill from the furnace and threw it on the ground.

"The fire isn't steady because your heart isn't steady."

"My heart is very steady."

"No." Old Zhou said. "You have something on your mind. You are thinking—when will friendship be lost."

Lu Chen didn't deny it.

"You know that friendship will be lost, but you don't know what will happen after it's lost. What you fear isn't the loss, but that after losing it, you'll discover that what you lost was more important than you imagined."

Lu Chen was silent for a few seconds.

"Are you saying these things to make me stop?"

"No." Old Zhou said. "I want you to know—the price isn't just the loss. The price is that you know you will lose, but you still have to move forward."

He stood up and brushed the dust off his robe.

"That's it for today. Come back tomorrow."

Lu Chen sat in front of the furnace, looking at the extinguished fire in the furnace chamber.

The greyish-white ashes still held residual heat.

He remembered the words Mo Wen had said—"Once you pay the price, don't look back."

He had already paid.

Familial affection was gone.

Next was friendship.

What came after friendship, he didn't know.

But he wouldn't stop.

Lu Chen pressed his palm against the furnace wall.

Spiritual power surged in.

The fire reignited.

Orange-yellow.

Steady.

The fifth batch, refining again.

The herbs were poured in.

The furnace lid was closed.

One incense stick.

The fire didn't flicker.

One quarter of an hour.

The fire didn't flicker.

Two quarters of an hour.

The scent of herbs drifted from the furnace.

Withdraw the fire.

Open the furnace lid.

A brown Medicinal Pill, round, with a sheen on the surface.

Successful.

Lu Chen placed the Medicinal Pill in his palm, looking at it.

A very small thing.

But it was the first complete pill he had refined.

Not a failed pill, not a charred pill.

It was a finished pill.

He swallowed the Medicinal Pill.

Spiritual Qi surged into his Dantian.

Very little.

But it had indeed increased by a wisp.

Lu Chen stood up and walked out of the small hut.

It was already dark.

The moon was very bright, illuminating the courtyard in white.

He stood in the middle of the courtyard, looking up at the moon.

The black thread on his left wrist was clearly visible in the moonlight, a thin strand wrapped around his wrist, tied in a knot.

The thread hadn't broken yet.

But he knew that one day, it would break.

Or—he would forget it.

Lu Chen lowered his head and turned to walk toward his dwelling.

When he reached the door, he stopped.

The door was open.

He hadn't opened it; someone else had.

He walked in.

There was a letter on the table.

Not a note, but a letter.

The envelope was white, with two words written on it—"Lu Chen."

He opened it.

Inside was only one line of text.

"Grey Spirit Root. Qi Refining Stage 2. bone fragment holder. Danding Sect Outer Sect servant. How long do you think you can hide?"

No signature.

Lu Chen folded the letter and tucked it into his chest.

Then he sat on the bed, closed his eyes, and began to guide Qi.

Spiritual Qi surged into his Dantian.

He was thinking about a question—

Who wrote this letter?

Sun Qian?

Or the person behind Sun Qian?

He didn't know.

But he knew one thing—

No matter who it was, he would accept it.

Because besides moving forward, he had no other choice.