Wolf-Head Soldier Figurines
Lu Xiaotian had spent nearly as much time pursuing the Dao of Alchemy as he had cultivating. The failures he had endured were beyond counting, so naturally, the failure of two batches of pills—or the increasingly doubtful looks from Zhao Qifeng, Xu Suqin, and even Xinhong—could not unsettle his state of mind.
Those two failures had, however, given Lu Xiaotian a fairly thorough understanding of the mist formed from the Phantommist Immortal Herb.
After this failure, Lu Xiaotian paused for even less time than he had after the first. After a moment's thought, he began refining pills for the third time.
The third attempt proceeded without the slightest hitch. Even Xinhong, a True Immortal of the Immortal Sect who had seen much of the world and witnessed other Pill Saints refining pills, had never seen anyone refine pills as quickly as Lu Xiaotian. In his hands, alchemy seemed hardly slower than cooking a meal. An ordinary Pill Saint needed the time it took an incense stick to burn to refine a wisp of an immortal plant or another material, but in Lu Xiaotian's hands, only a third—or even a quarter—of that time was often enough to achieve the same result.
Xinhong hesitated, originally wanting to remind Lu Xiaotian that haste made waste, but then she saw how completely he had thrown himself into refining the pills.
This time, from the moment the Phantommist Immortal Herb transformed into mist to the moment it dissolved into the blazing pill liquid, only twenty percent was lost. By the time it had completely dispersed within the pill liquid, nearly another ten percent had been lost.
The remaining seventy percent or so of spiritual mist, however, combined perfectly with the pill liquid, already enough for Lu Xiaotian to draw out three pills