Pine Perch Sect

Coming out of the Pure Wind Sword Sect in the eastern part of the city, Chen Chong felt rather helpless in his heart.

The mountain gate of the Pure Wind Sword Sect—no, to be precise, its quarters—was built grandly.

A stone sword was thrust into the lintel, with the two characters "Pure Wind" carved onto the blade. When the wind blew, one could hear a humming sound emitted from the fine pores on the blade. After going inside, courtyard nested within courtyard, and there were dozens of disciples practicing swordplay on the martial arts field. Their movements were neat and uniform, and the momentum was not bad either.

Yet after taking a look for a few moments, Chen Chong understood that these sects were merely like a slightly larger gang, not worthy of being called a true sect at all.

Most of the disciples were children sent by local families, and the master's level was just so-so. What they taught was the most basic swordplay, and once one practiced to the Tendon-Tremor Realm, that was the end of the line. As for the elders in the Bone Tempering Realm, there was only a single one in the entire Pure Wind Sword Sect, and he was even invited from outside, usually sitting in meditation in the backyard and rarely seen by anyone.

Chen Chong's heart harbored some hesitation. The Mystic Medicine Pavilion was similar, just a slightly larger apothecary.

With two courtyards front and back, several alchemy cauldrons, and a few alchemists refining some Essence-Nourishing Pills and Qi-Congealing Powder, they went for sheer volume. He went in, strolled around, and left without even taking a closer look at the alchemy cauldrons.

What he wanted to join was a true sect.

Coming to the Hundred Treasures Pavilion once again, Chen Chong consulted about the matter of sects yet again. This time he did not go through the female receptionist, instead seeking out the steward directly.

After hearing him out, the steward pondered for a moment, uttered a "Mister Chen, please wait," and turned into the inner hall.

A moment later, an old man walked out.

He was around sixty years of age, lean in build, wearing a drab old robe with frayed cuffs at the wrists. His hair was mixed with gray, casually fastened with a wooden hairpin, and his face was emaciated with somewhat high cheekbones and deeply sunken eye sockets.

Yet those eyes were exceptionally bright, like two stones that had been repeatedly polished, flashing with light within the sunken eye sockets. He walked up to Chen Chong and looked him up and down.

"An alchemist?"

Chen Chong nodded.

Without asking further, the old man spoke directly: "Refine a batch of pills for me to see. The Darkcyan Essence-Coalescing Pill."

The Darkcyan Essence-Coalescing Pill was also a type of Essence-Coalescing Pill, differing only in the medicinal ingredients used compared to the Jade Marrow Essence-Coalescing Pill, with similar efficacy. The principal ingredient was Darkcyan Ganoderma, supplemented by Chinese angelica, chuanxiong, rehmannia, and Scrophularia root. The pills refined were warming, nourished the primordial yang, and consolidated the foundation. Chen Chong nodded.

The old man led him to an alchemy room. It was smaller than the alchemy room in the front hall of the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, but more refined. The alchemy cauldron was made of bronze, with three legs and two ears, cast with fine cloud-and-thunder patterns on the cauldron body. The inner walls of the furnace chamber had a glazed surface baked over years of use, bright enough to mirror a person.

On the table were placed a pestle, a mortar, a copper spoon, a jade grinder, and porcelain bottles, fully equipped. The medicinal ingredients had already been prepared, neatly arranged on the table by category.

Chen Chong walked up to the cauldron, glanced over the medicinal ingredients, and already had a plan in mind in his heart. He took the pestle, ground the Darkcyan Ganoderma into powder, and passed it through a fine sieve. His movements were not fast, but smooth.

The pestle fell, lifted, and fell again, with a rhythm as even as drumbeats. Then came the Chinese angelica and chuanxiong, sliced, put into the mortar, and ground. Then came the rehmannia and Scrophularia root, first steamed then dried in the sun, before being put into the cauldron.

He started the cauldron and lit the fire. The flames licked the bottom of the cauldron, shifting from orange-red to dark red, and from dark red to deep blue. His hand pressed against the cauldron wall, feeling the changes in temperature. The heat control for the Darkcyan Essence-Coalescing Pill was more particular than that for the Jade Marrow Essence-Coalescing Pill.

The Jade Marrow Essence-Coalescing Pill required slow simmering over a gentle fire, whereas the Darkcyan Essence-Coalescing Pill required an alternation of gentle and fierce fires, changing the fire seven times in total, and not a single mistake could be made at any point.

The first change of fire. The second. The third. Chen Chong's fingers gently tapped against the cauldron wall, as if playing a silent zither.

The old man stood to the side, initially just watching casually. But as he watched, his back straightened, his eyes narrowed, and his gaze focused on Chen Chong's hands.

Those hands were extremely steady, every movement just right, not a fraction of force too much, not a fraction too little. The timing for the medicinal ingredients to enter the cauldron, the precision of the flame changes, and the rhythm of controlling the heat were all as natural as heaven's work.

This wasn't just practiced; this was—the old man's pupils slightly constricted. This was pure alchemy talent.

The pills formed. Chen Chong withdrew the fire and opened the cauldron. On the porcelain plate lay three pills, blue-green, round and plump, their surfaces covered with a layer of fine ice-crack patterns, the medicinal fragrance pure, elegant, and lingering.

Three pills, flawless.

A shock stirred within the old man's heart. This technique possessed the demeanor of a grandmaster. He looked at those three pills, fell silent for a moment, and then nodded in satisfaction.

"You possess the qualifications of a grandmaster."

He raised his head and looked at Chen Chong: "I can introduce you to join my former sect—the Pine Roost Sect."

Chen Chong was slightly stunned. The Pine Roost Sect. He had never heard this name before, but the old man's tone was very resolute, as if speaking of a matter he had already thought through long ago.

The old man fished a token out from his sleeve and handed it over.

The token was made of wood, palm-sized, dark brown, with patterns of pine branches and a perched bird carved on the surface, and the two characters "Pine Roost" carved on the back. The wood was very old with a thick patina, feeling as warm as grease to the touch.

"This is my recommendation token; you may hold it and go there," the old man said. "The Hundred Treasures Pavilion has carriages, as well as maps leading to the Pine Roost Sect. You may choose for yourself."

A carriage. Chen Chong immediately realized that this was a sect with a true mountain gate.

The Pure Wind Sword Sect was in the city, and the Mystic Medicine Pavilion was in the city; both were storefronts. Meanwhile, the Pine Roost Sect had carriages and maps, indicating that it was outside the city. In the mountains. It had its own independent mountain gate.

Chen Chong expressed his thanks to the old man, reached into his bosom, and fished out a wooden box, inside of which lay a Jade Splendor Essence-Nourishing Pill.

The old man took it, opened it to take a look, his eyebrows twitched slightly, and then he smiled and accepted it.

Chen Chong stepped out of the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, hired a carriage by the roadside, and headed toward the Pine Roost Sect.

This time it was purely to have someone lead the way; although he had a map, he was unfamiliar with the roads outside the commandery city, and having a driver who knew the paths could save a lot of trouble.

The carriage left the south gate of Anyang Commandery and headed all the way south.

The imperial highway gradually narrowed, changing from a paved bluestone avenue into a gravel road, and then from a gravel road into a dirt road. The human habitation on both sides grew increasingly sparse, with fields turning into wasteland, and wasteland turning into forests.

Chen Chong chatted idly with the carriage driver, bringing up the Pine Roost Sect they were heading toward.

The driver was a middle-aged man in his forties with tanned skin and rough palms, who had driven carriages for half a lifetime.

Upon hearing the three words "Pine Roost Sect," a hint of envy revealed itself in his tone: "The Pine Roost Sect? Ah, that is a truly grand sect with a mountain gate. We carriage runners often hear people talk about it. Having a mountain gate and not having a mountain gate are two different things. Those sects in the city, no matter how big, are just storefronts and businesses. Places like the Pine Roost Sect represent heritage and foundations."

Chen Chong brought up the Tyrant Blade Sect.

The driver smacked his lips: "The Tyrant Blade Sect can be considered in a class of its own nowadays, leading far ahead. The other sects that possess mountain gates all experience ups and downs, and the gap between them isn't very large. Today you are a bit stronger, tomorrow he is a bit weaker, and no one can suppress the others."

The carriage did not move fast, passing through a stretch of forest. The forest was very dense, flanked by ancient pines with tortuous branches that blocked out the sky and sun.

The wheels crushed over fallen leaves, emitting a rustling sound. The moment they burst out of the forest, the view suddenly broadened.

Chen Chong's eyes lit up. Was this a sect?

Amidst a stretch of mountains, a brand-new realm had been carved out. The mountains were not tall, but the mountain ranges undulated and rolled, resembling a dormant dragon lying upon the earth.

Dotted across the mountain waist were several architectural complexes with white walls and black tiles, upturned eaves and flying corners, set against the backdrop of verdant pines and emerald cypresses. A flight of stone steps spiraled up from the foot of the mountain, disappearing into the cloud-shrouded mountain waist.

At the foot of the mountain stood a stone gate, with three large characters carved upon the lintel—Pine Roost Sect.

The characters were carved into the bluestone, the strokes vigorous and the momentum compelling.

Chen Chong only glanced at it, and he felt an inexplicable momentum seeping out from the characters, like a bird perched on a pine branch, quiet, but ready to spread its wings and rise at any moment. It must have been carved by an expert.

He could faintly sense that momentum vibrating in the air, not particularly intense, but lingering like pine waves, coming in wave after wave.

The carriage stopped in front of the stone gate. Chen Chong jumped down from the carriage and paid the fare. The driver looked at the stone gate, then looked at Chen Chong, smiled, turned the carriage around, and left.

The sound of the carriage wheels gradually faded into the distance, and the birdcalls in the forest grew clear once more.

Chen Chong stood before the stone gate, raising his head to look at those three characters. The autumn wind blew down from the mountains, carrying the fresh scent of pine resin and the sound of a distant bell. He took a deep breath, stepped forward, and walked inside.