Refining the Foundation-Building Elixir (Two Chapters—Four Thousand Words)

Xiao Zhan, seated in the main seat, slowly rose to his feet. His gaze swept across the people in the hall, each wearing a different expression, and his voice was low yet forceful. "Everyone has heard it. From today onward, Xiao Ning, Xiao Shi, Xiao Han, and the others will be transferred to the branch family's businesses.

The three elders will be demoted to stewards and temporarily retain their former duties. They may be promoted again after rendering meritorious service."

His voice was not loud, yet it carried an unquestionable authority.

No one objected.

No one dared to object.

Xiao Zhan's gaze lingered on the three elders for a moment. Looking at their ashen faces and lowered heads, he felt no satisfaction, only an indescribably complicated emotion.

Twenty years ago, when he had taken the position of clan head, the three elders had still been his seniors, his guides.

Twenty years later, they had become thorns he had to pull out with his own hands.

Time truly was a terrifying thing. It made people grow old, made people turn bad, and created rifts between those who had once been inseparable.

But he did not regret it.

Yan'er had done the right thing.

The rotten branches on this tree had to be cut away. Otherwise, the entire tree would rot along with them.

Xiao Zhan withdrew his gaze, turned around, and left the hall through the side door.

His steps were steady, and his back was straight. Yet the instant he passed through that doorway, his shoulders sagged slightly, and he let out a sigh only he could hear.

The people in the hall gradually dispersed. The sounds of footsteps, conversation, and sighs slowly faded away, farther and farther, until they vanished completely.

The Xiao Clan, which had been bustling for an entire day, finally quieted down.

Meanwhile, after leaving the hall, Xiao Yan went straight back to his room.

The moment he pushed open the door, a familiar aura washed over him—it was his own space, simple, quiet, without anything superfluous.

He locked the door behind him. The lock gave a crisp click, shutting all prying eyes and noisy disturbances outside.

Xiao Yan walked to the table and sat down.

The pitch-black Bone Flame Ring on his right index finger trembled slightly.

A milky white glow overflowed from the ring's surface, slowly gathering in the air and forming the illusory figure of an elderly man.

His gaze swept over Xiao Yan. His lips moved slightly, as though he wanted to say something, but in the end, he remained silent.

There were too many things he had wanted to ask.

How had Xiao Yan cultivated the few Dou Techniques he had taught him to mastery, even perfection, in less than a day?

How long would it take an ordinary person to train a Mystic Tier Dou Technique from beginner level to mastery?

Three months? Half a year? Even longer?

And what about those Dou Techniques he had never given him—Lingxi Sword Fingers, Flame Burst Fist... where had Xiao Yan learned them?

These questions had lingered in his heart for a long time, like fish bones stuck in his throat, impossible to swallow and impossible to spit out.

But he did not ask.

Having lived to his age, he had seen more people and experienced more things than Xiao Yan had eaten salt.

More than anyone, he understood one principle—everyone had secrets.

He himself had many secrets he had not told Xiao Yan: what his full name was, what realm his strength had reached while alive, what rank Alchemist he truly was, and why he had ended up like this...

He had never mentioned a single word about any of it.

Since he himself could not be completely open, what right did he have to question Xiao Yan?

Between master and disciple, trust was needed, but so were boundaries.

Once that line was crossed, trust became surveillance, and concern became control.

As for what Xiao Yan had done in the hall—stripping the three elders of their positions and expelling Xiao Ning and the others from the Xiao Clan's main branch—Yao Lao saw nothing wrong with it.

Over the past three years, he had witnessed Xiao Ning and the others mock Xiao Yan, as well as the three elders target and suppress him.

Having lived through two lifetimes and witnessed the warmth and coldness of human relationships, he deeply understood one truth: you reap what you sow.

Since they had done such things, they had to bear the consequences of the backlash. It was only natural. There was nothing more to say.

Yao Lao floated in midair, quietly watching Xiao Yan. In his aged eyes, beyond scrutiny, was a trace of satisfaction that even he himself had not noticed.

He had lived for many years and seen far too many geniuses.

Some possessed extraordinary talent but were impetuous in temperament. Some had made a stunning debut only to lack endurance. Some had enjoyed smooth sailing in the first half of their lives, only to fall into ruin in the second.

Xiao Yan was different—this youth possessed a quality he rarely encountered: after experiencing tremendous ups and downs, he could still remain clear-headed and calm.

Neither arrogant nor rash, neither servile nor overbearing.

He was not wild when in power, nor humble when out of favor.

Such temperament was more precious than any talent.

"Teacher."

Xiao Yan's voice interrupted Yao Lao's thoughts.

He turned toward Yao Lao. There was a hint of urgency on his youthful face as he rubbed his hands together, unable to conceal the yearning in his voice.

When they had gone to the Miter Auction House to auction off the Suction Palm, he had already mentioned this matter to Yao Lao.

At that time, Yao Lao had told him through Soul Power that he was preparing to begin teaching him alchemy.

Yao Lao had initially intended to have him buy some ingredients for refining First-Grade Pills, allowing him to try his hand at alchemy.

But Xiao Yan had asked Yao Lao a question then. "Teacher, are there any pills suitable for auction? Low cost, high profit. I want to sell some pills first and save up some gold coins. Then I can buy ingredients to practice alchemy with, and perhaps pick up some ingredients to improve my Dou Qi cultivation too."

Yao Lao thought it over and felt that this approach was quite right.

Whether cultivation or alchemy, both required money.

Without money, nothing could be done.

Rather than wasting time letting Xiao Yan save bit by bit, it was better to directly give him a way to quickly accumulate wealth.

Thus, he gave Xiao Yan the formula for the Foundation-Building Elixir.

The Foundation-Building Elixir was a medicinal liquid Yao Lao had created in his youth. Its grade was not high, barely reaching Second-Rank.

Its effect was simple—it could accelerate cultivation during the Dou Zhi Qi stage without damaging the meridians.

It sounded simple, but anyone could weigh the value contained within it.

During the Dou Zhi Qi stage, the human body's meridians were extremely fragile. Therefore, cultivation at the Dou Zhi Qi realm could not rely on external aids such as pills.

Otherwise, when the Dou Qi in one's body gradually grew stronger in the future, fragile meridians would be unable to withstand the increasingly powerful impact of Dou Qi. In the end, the meridians would rupture. At best, one's cultivation would be completely crippled; at worst, one would die on the spot.

This was the most basic common knowledge in the cultivation world. Even seven- or eight-year-old children knew it.

Yet the Foundation-Building Elixir happened to break this common understanding. It could increase cultivation speed during the Dou Zhi Qi stage without damaging the meridians.

That "without damaging the meridians" was its true value.

In the great clans and major factions of the Central Plains, such a thing was not rare.

Every major faction had its own secret methods, pills, and medicinal liquids to assist low-level disciples in cultivation.

But in a backwater like the Northwest Continent, especially in a tiny place like Wutan City, the Foundation-Building Elixir was a priceless treasure.

The reason was simple—who would not want the children of their family to cultivate faster during the Dou Zhi Qi stage?

After selling the Suction Palm, Xiao Yan had fifty thousand gold coins in hand.

Six Second-Order Magic Cores had cost him twelve thousand.

When buying Magic Cores, he had not pursued quality. He picked cheap ones worth around two thousand gold coins each. They were meant to charge the Martial Dao Space, not for alchemy, so quality made little difference.

He spent the remaining thirty-eight thousand entirely on ingredients for refining the Foundation-Building Elixir.

The cost of one batch of ingredients was a little over one thousand gold coins, with the First-Order Magic Core alone accounting for seven hundred.

The ingredients he purchased from the Miter Auction House were all of the finest quality, so one batch cost nearly two thousand gold coins.

With thirty-eight thousand gold coins, he bought nineteen batches.

Nineteen batches of ingredients meant nineteen bottles of Foundation-Building Elixir. Even if each bottle sold for only twenty thousand gold coins, that would still be three hundred and eighty thousand gold coins. It was simply obscene profit.

Of course, that was assuming all nineteen batches were successfully refined rather than failing outright.

An ordinary Second-Rank Alchemist had a success rate of less than twenty percent. Only an Eighth-Rank Alchemist like Yao Lao could achieve a perfect record without mistakes.

"Look at you, so impatient."

Yao Lao looked at Xiao Yan's eager appearance, and a smile appeared on his face. There was indulgence in that smile, along with a slight satisfaction at being needed.

Hearing this, Xiao Yan immediately quieted down. He stared intently at Yao Lao, his eyes wide open, afraid of missing even the smallest detail.

With a flick of his left hand, Yao Lao produced a stalk of Purple Leaf Orchid Grass in his palm. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the herb for a moment, as though measuring and calculating something.

Then, he gently exhaled. A cluster of pale white flames suddenly surged up from his left palm.

The color of that flame was strange. It was neither the scarlet nor golden yellow of ordinary fire, but a nearly icy shade of white.

Cold white, frost white, like a handful of snow taken from the most frigid land, silently burning in his palm.

Yet the heat it released was incomparably intense. The instant the flame appeared, the temperature in the entire room rose several degrees. Moisture in the air rapidly evaporated, leaving it so dry that one's lips could crack.

Xiao Yan's gaze locked tightly onto the white flame, and his pupils contracted slightly.

Bone-Chilling Flame.

The Bone-Chilling Flame, ranked eleventh on the Heavenly Flame Ranking. A miraculous flame where extreme cold and extreme heat coexisted. Its owner was the seemingly unremarkable elderly soul before him—the Medicine Venerable, Yao Chen.

This was the first time Xiao Yan had personally witnessed Yao Lao use the Bone-Chilling Flame.

The pressure radiating from the flame made his heart beat faster involuntarily.

It was not fear, but an instinctive reverence when facing ultimate power.

Yao Lao's movements flowed like clouds and water, without the slightest pause.

The white flame rippled gently like a blooming flower. Its petals opened and swallowed the Purple Leaf Orchid Grass in his palm.

Sizzle—

With a faint sound, the Purple Leaf Orchid Grass was almost instantly burned into a small mass of green liquid within the flame.

The liquid was crystal clear. Wrapped in the white fire, it slowly rolled about like a green pearl.

Xiao Yan's brows twitched slightly.

Too fast.

Before he could even see how the Purple Leaf Orchid Grass had been refined, it had already turned into a mass of liquid.

Yao Lao's movements had become too fast for the eye to capture. This was not something that could be described by the word "skilled"; it was a realm achieved only after countless temperings, after every step had been compressed to its absolute limit.

Yao Lao extended his right hand again, grabbed another stalk of Purple Leaf Orchid Grass, and tossed it into the white flame without even turning his head.

Three stalks of Purple Leaf Orchid Grass were precisely fed in, refined, and fused in his hands like parts on an assembly line.

The green liquid continuously writhed within the flame, visibly increasing in volume, from an initial small clump into a mass roughly the size of a fist.

Under Yao Lao's precise control, the temperature of the flames shifted in subtle ways.

Sometimes high, sometimes low; sometimes fierce, sometimes gentle. Every change in temperature was perfectly timed, ensuring efficient removal of impurities without destroying the active components in the medicinal liquid through excessive heat.

The green liquid rolled, contracted, expanded, contracted again, then expanded again within the flames. The cycle repeated endlessly.

With every cycle, the liquid shrank by another layer, its color deepened, and its texture thickened.

After a while, that fist-sized mass of green liquid had actually been refined down to a clump only the size of a thumb.

The thumb-sized green liquid had darkened until it was nearly ink green. It was thick as honey, slowly flowing within the flames and releasing a rich medicinal fragrance.

The scent was clear without being pungent, like fresh grass after rain. Merely smelling it made one feel refreshed.

The next step was the Bone-Washing Flower.

Yao Lao tossed two Bone-Washing Flowers into the flames.

The Bone-Washing Flowers ignited the moment they encountered fire. Their petals rapidly withered, carbonized, shattered, and finally turned into a cloud of fine powder.

The powder fell into the ink-green liquid, which immediately began to churn as though undergoing a violent chemical reaction.

The ink green slowly faded into emerald green. Its viscosity lessened somewhat, becoming clearer and more translucent.

The fusion was underway.

Next came the Magic Core.

Yao Lao picked up the First-Order Magic Core, spun it once on his fingertip, and tossed it into the flames.

Magic Cores were much more difficult to refine than medicinal ingredients. They were hard, dense, and contained the violent energy a Magical Beast had possessed in life.

For an ordinary Alchemist to refine a First-Order Magic Core, it would take at least two or three hours, and they would need to concentrate completely without the slightest distraction.

Yao Lao used less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea.

The white flame coiled around the Magic Core like a spiritual serpent, peeling it apart layer by layer, from the outside in.

The outer layer of the Magic Core cracked and flaked away under the high heat, revealing the crystalline core within.

Faint streams of light moved inside that core. It was the most essential part of the Magic Core.

Yao Lao's miraculous ability was displayed in full here. Not only did he refine the Magic Core, he also used a method Xiao Yan could not understand to wash away the violent energy contained within it completely.

The hard Magic Core was refined into a mass of pale green liquid.

The liquid was as clear as water and contained not a trace of impurity. It floated quietly within the white flames, as docile as a tamed sheep.

The three steps—the refinement and fusion of Purple Leaf Orchid Grass, the addition of Bone-Washing Flower, and the refinement and purification of the Magic Core—lasted a full hour.

One hour.

Xiao Yan did not blink even once throughout the entire process.

He noticed that after refining the first Magic Core, Yao Lao's complexion remained rosy and his spirits high. There was not the slightest sign of exhaustion, as though this hour of alchemy had been nothing more than an easy warm-up exercise.

Xiao Yan secretly marveled.

This was the Soul Power of a Dou Venerable.

Vast as the sea, inexhaustible.

Forget refining one batch of pills—even if he refined pills continuously for ten days and ten nights, he likely would not feel tired.

When would he be able to reach such a realm?