Alchemy

The work of a courtyard guard, put plainly, was watching over the courtyard.

At the very back of Jichuntang Hall's rear compound stood a separate little courtyard, its walls covered in wisteria vines that cast a patch of deep shade in summer.

There were three main rooms in the courtyard: one was an alchemy room, while the other two were medicine storerooms.

The courtyard was paved with smooth blue bricks, with a thin layer of moss growing in the cracks. It felt soft beneath one's feet and made no sound. A stone well stood in the corner, its rim worn with several deep grooves by the rope.

Every day, the courtyard guards patrolled inside and outside this yard. From the gate to the rear wall, then around from the east wing to the west wing, one circuit was roughly a hundred paces. Outside the courtyard was also a narrow passage leading to the pharmacy's warehouse and accounting room, which had to be watched as well.

Jichuntang Hall had around a dozen courtyard guards, but only two or three were truly needed on duty each day. The rest rotated shifts and rested. It was therefore an exceedingly easy job.

But Chen Chong had only just arrived, and he had to patrol almost every day.

New courtyard guards generally all went through this. After enduring ten days or half a month, things would be fine. But Chen Chong had already been here for twelve days, and not a single day had passed without his name on the duty roster. Lu Yun's "care" was undoubtedly behind it.

Lu Yun had climbed his way up as well. He had worked at the pharmacy for eight years, rising from a menial worker to a courtyard guard, then from a courtyard guard to the manager of the guards. In his early thirties, he had reached the Nourishing Flesh Realm, placing him just a thread above ordinary guards.

In the Nourishing Flesh Realm, the blood and flesh beneath the skin began to be nourished by true qi, making one's strength and endurance far surpass those of the Skin Tempering Realm.

But Lu Yun's foundation was unstable. Back then, he had relied on a Foundation-Nourishing Pill rewarded by the pharmacy to force his way through the breakthrough, leaving his foundations poorly laid.

That was why, that night, when Chen Chong had gripped his hand with the confidence of two Great Perfections, Lu Yun had not gained the upper hand. Instead, he had suffered a silent loss.

When he patrolled outside the alchemy room, Chen Chong slowed his pace.

This little courtyard was far more refined than the others. Of the three main rooms, the central one stood open. Inside sat a bronze pill furnace with three legs and two handles, its body cast with cloud patterns and bird-script inscriptions, polished until it gleamed.

A meditation cushion and a low table stood before the furnace. On the table were a medicine pestle, medicine mortar, jade grinder, bronze spoon, and a row of small celadon jars, their mouths sealed with wax.

Several young attendants were busy in the courtyard.

They were twelve or thirteen years old, dressed in fine cloth short shirts with silk sashes at their waists. One look was enough to tell that they had been sent here by well-to-do families.

Each had a low table before him, holding a bamboo tray and a pottery bowl. They kneaded lumps of brown medicinal paste by hand, rolled them into pills the size of peas, coated them in a thin layer of medicinal powder, then arranged them on bamboo trays to dry.

Qi-Nourishing Blood-Boosting Pills.

Chen Chong recognized them. Menial workers often made these. The formula used angelica root, astragalus, prepared rehmannia, white peony root, and Sichuan lovage. They were ground into powder, sifted, and mixed with refined honey into pills. They nourished the blood and replenished qi; an ordinary person who ate a few could ease fatigue and gain strength.

But in the eyes of martial artists, this did not count as true pill medicine. It could only be considered medicine-making, not alchemy. True pill medicine required opening the furnace and raising the fire.

Just as he was thinking this, an old man arrived at the courtyard gate.

He was around sixty, lean and slender, dressed in a faded blue cloth robe washed nearly white. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing thin yet clean forearms. His face was clear and gaunt, his cheekbones slightly high. His eye sockets were deeply sunken, yet his gaze was bright and gentle, like two pools of still water.

A short, grizzled beard hung from his chin, neatly trimmed. He carried a copper kettle in one hand, its spout plugged with a wooden stopper. His steps were exceptionally steady, and his feet made no sound when they touched the ground.

Chen Huaixu.

Jichuntang Hall's sole alchemist, a true figure capable of opening a furnace and refining pills.

The young attendants all set down their work, rose, and bowed. "Master Chen."

Chen Huaixu nodded slightly and walked before the pill furnace in the main room. He set the copper kettle on the table, pulled out the wooden stopper, and poured a dark brown liquid into the furnace. It carried a faint scent of alcohol.

Then he sat cross-legged on the meditation cushion and took out a wooden box from his sleeve. The box was divided into compartments, each containing a different medicinal powder—red, yellow, white, green, and black, every color distinct.

He picked up a bronze spoon and added the medicinal powders into the furnace in sequence.

With every ingredient he added, he focused for a moment, as though sensing something. Finally, he took out a porcelain vial from his robes, removed its stopper, poured out a blue-green pill the size of a longan, and placed it atop the pile of medicine at the furnace's center.

Then he lit the charcoal fire beneath the furnace.

The flames licked at the furnace bottom, and the bronze body gradually reddened. Chen Huaixu pressed a hand against the furnace wall, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

A faint sizzling came from within the furnace. A wisp of green smoke curled from the beast mouth on the lid, and an unusual fragrance spread throughout the courtyard. It was not merely the scent of medicine; it also carried an indescribable trace of freshness, like the pure air of a mountain wilderness at dawn.

"Alchemy is not some mysterious art," Chen Huaixu said. His voice was not loud, but every word was clear. "In the final analysis, it lies in practice. The weights of the medicinal ingredients, the gentleness and fierceness of the fire, the furnace temperature—books cannot record it all. You can only try it yourself, again and again."

The young attendants gathered at the doorway and listened with bated breath.

"The Qi-Nourishing Blood-Boosting Pills you are kneading now are medicine, not pill medicine." Chen Huaixu kept his hand against the furnace wall, his gaze fixed on the dancing firelight within. "Only when you can personally meld three or more medicinal ingredients into a single pill in the furnace can you be said to have truly entered the gate of alchemy. And for that, you need heavenly treasures and earthly wonders, as well as accumulated experience. There are no shortcuts. One step, one footprint."

Less than half an hour later, Chen Huaixu rose. The liquid in the copper kettle had already run dry. He removed a porcelain dish from the furnace. Three round pills lay on it, several shades darker than when they had entered the furnace, their surfaces bearing a faint flowing sheen.

He put away the porcelain dish and carried the copper kettle outside. As he passed the courtyard gate, he glanced at Chen Chong.

Chen Chong stood outside the gate, his gaze somewhat unfocused, as though he were daydreaming. Chen Huaixu could not help but smile inwardly. Sure enough, just like those courtyard guards from before, he had listened as if surrounded by clouds and fog, completely bewildered.

How could Alchemy be understood after hearing it only once?

He did not concern himself further and strolled away.

Chen Chong truly was somewhat stunned, but not for the reason Chen Huaixu imagined.

He stared at the panel.

[Alchemy (Not Initiated)]

Below it was a line of text: "Consume one tael of silver to simplify Alchemy?"

Chen Chong did not even pause to think—simplify.

"Simplification successful. Alchemy—Fire Control."

The line on the panel changed to:

[Fire Control (Initiated 1/100)]

It only required one tael. Unexpectedly cheap.

After some time, the young attendants dispersed as well. The sun slanted westward, and the courtyard fell quiet. Chen Chong finished his patrol for the day and returned to his small room.

He sat before the table and stared at the oil lamp.

It was a copper lamp, with half a pool of lamp oil in its shallow dish and a cotton wick poking out. He took out a fire starter and blew on it. Sparks flared, and he lit the oil lamp.

The flame flickered once, then steadied. An orange-yellow halo spread outward, illuminating half his face.

On the panel—

[Alchemy (Initiated 1/100)]

Chen Chong blew out the oil lamp. Darkness surged back in.

He blew on the fire starter again and lit it. The flame flared up.

[Alchemy (Initiated 2/100)]

Blow it out. Light it. Blow it out. Light it.

The little flame brightened and dimmed in the darkness like a blinking eye. Chen Chong sat at the table, lighting and extinguishing the lamp over and over, his expression as focused as a child's.

Outside the window, the night wind of Dingshan County carried the sound of the night watchman's clapper.

Tok, tok-tok, tok. It was the second watch of the night.