The Cultivation Room had no shelves of medicinal ingredients, nor did any medicine workers come and go.
Above the furnace, though, ran several iron pipes of varying thickness.
The pipes entered through the wall, their ends fitted into holes in the furnace lid.
Deng Qing understood. The ingredients, medicinal liquids, and powders were all fed into the furnace from outside through those pipes.
This arrangement kept the prescriptions secret and prevented the furnace tenders from stealing ingredients.
Steward Liu pointed at the furnace. "The work isn't hard. Watch the fire, don't let it go out, and keep the heat steady."
Deng Qing nodded. Steward Liu told Tu Wei to show him the ropes, then left.
Tu Wei walked over to the furnace and held out a hand to test the heat. Then he crouched in front of it, opened the firewood hatch at its base, and began explaining.
It really was simple work. The crucial part was using the Violet Palace Method to purge the medicinal toxins.
Before long, Deng Qing had learned how to add firewood and distinguish the different flames.
After teaching him a while and seeing that he had the hang of it, Tu Wei left.
Deng Qing tended the furnace alone. Following Tu Wei's instructions, he watched the color of the furnace's belly while adding firewood and tamping down the flames.
Medicinal fumes seeped through the furnace seams now and then, filling his nose with a bitter, acrid sting.
At first, they left Deng Qing's chest tight and his eyes sore.
But once the Violet Palace Method began circulating smoothly, the discomfort quickly faded.
After experimenting a little longer, Deng Qing felt reassured.
Before he knew it, one batch had finished brewing, and someone knocked on the stone door.
An attendant came in, checked the furnace's belly, and made a note in a ledger.
By the second batch, Deng Qing was much more at ease.
Adding firewood, controlling the flames, refining the medicinal fumes—it all went smoothly.
When the second batch was done, Steward Liu came by and told Deng Qing to take a break.
Deng Qing readily agreed and followed a menial worker into the rest room on the west side.
The room was small, furnished with a few long benches and rough wooden tables. On the tables sat coarse tea, baked flatbreads, and a bowl of pickled vegetables.
Deng Qing sat down, poured himself a bowl of tea, and ate and drank.
Before long, Tu Wei came in too. He looked far worse than he had going in, with dark circles under his eyes and dry lips. After sitting down, he gulped down several mouthfuls of tea before catching his breath.
Tu Wei looked up. Deng Qing was a little pale, but nowhere near as bedraggled as he was. Frowning, he asked, "Don't tell me you couldn't even last one batch?"
Deng Qing did not know how to answer.
If he said he had already tended two batches and was adjusting well, it would be too much of a blow to Tu Wei.
So he only said vaguely, "I can just about manage."
Thinking he had guessed right, Tu Wei patted Deng Qing on the shoulder. "It's like that for everyone at first. The Violet Palace Method is hard to practice, and medicinal fumes aren't meat. They're not so easy to digest.
"Lasting one batch on your first try is already pretty good. There's no shame in stopping if you can't bear it."
"You're right, Senior Brother."
After eating a few flatbreads, Deng Qing suddenly asked, "Senior Brother, how far do you have to progress with the Violet Palace Method before you've truly mastered it?"
Tu Wei set down his tea bowl. "The Violet Palace Method doesn't show in your fists or feet, so others can't tell how far you've progressed. People usually judge by how much meat you can digest.
"If an ordinary person eats too much meat in one sitting, they'll feel bloated and sluggish. In bad cases, they might even hurt their stomach. But someone who's mastered an Internal Cultivation Method can eat far more than most people and digest it all."
Deng Qing nodded and asked, "Then how much meat can you digest in one sitting now, Senior Brother?"
A trace of pride appeared on Tu Wei's face. "These days I can eat seven jin of meat in one meal. One full cycle of the method is enough to digest most of it. With the Violet Palace Method, that means I'm starting to get the hang of it."
He raised one finger. "When you can eat ten jin of meat in one meal and complete one cycle of the method without feeling bloated or sluggish, that's when you've truly mastered the Violet Palace Method."
Deng Qing was speechless.
He had been able to digest ten jin of meat for some time.
As for more than that, he had not tried yet.
Tu Wei did not notice his reaction. He glanced toward the Cultivation Room, longing in his eyes. "If we really train the Violet Palace Method to that point, the toxic fumes here won't do us much harm.
"Then everyone else can avoid furnace-tending like the plague, while we make a fortune from it."
Deng Qing lowered his head and took a bite of flatbread, emotions rising within him.
Clearly, the Violet Palace Method was just like the Tiger-Subduing Fist.
Once again, Tang Juan's standards and those of the outside world were worlds apart.
What Tu Wei called mastery had only just crossed the threshold of Minor Mastery by Tang Juan's standards.
For the next three days, Deng Qing spent almost all his time in the underground Cultivation Room of Tianshun Apothecary.
Apart from brief breaks to eat, drink, and switch furnaces, he stayed in front of the furnace, adding firewood, tamping down flames, and circulating the Violet Palace Method through cycle after cycle.
One day, while he was practicing in the Cultivation Room, he heard movement outside the door.
Deng Qing went over and peered through the air hole. Tu Wei was standing outside.
He hurriedly grabbed a handful of furnace ash and smeared it across his face and forehead. After mussing his hair at the temples, he rose and opened the door.
The moment the stone door opened, Deng Qing saw Tu Wei and started.
Tu Wei looked terrible. Dark circles ringed his eyes, his face was grayish white, and his lips had scarcely any color. He looked as though the medicinal fumes had steeped him through.
Tu Wei coughed twice before saying, "Junior Brother Deng, I can't keep going. I'm heading out."
Seeing Deng Qing's face covered in ash and looking just as wretched, he asked, "Want to leave together?"
Deng Qing coughed. "I can hold out a little longer."
Tu Wei frowned.
Deng Qing added, "New Year is almost here, and I haven't saved much money for it. I want to tend a few more batches."
Tu Wei's voice grew grave. "You can earn more silver. You can't replace a ruined body."
"I understand," Deng Qing said, lowering his head.
Seeing him stay by the door with no intention of leaving, Tu Wei knew he could not persuade him. He sighed. "As long as you know your limits. If your chest gets tight, you cough up blood, or your vision goes dark, get out at once. Don't force yourself through it."
Deng Qing nodded. "Thank you, Senior Brother."
Tu Wei coughed twice more and turned to leave.
Deng Qing watched Tu Wei disappear down the corridor, then shut the stone door again.
He wiped the ash from his face and crouched before the furnace once more. Picking up the fire tongs, he tamped down the coals beneath it, then summoned Clear Radiance with a thought.
[Violet Palace Method: 23% (Minor Mastery)]
Deng Qing's heart gave a jolt.
In so little time, the Violet Palace Method had risen by three points.
Amid his excitement, he wondered if the medicinal toxins entering his body again and again over the past few days had, by a stroke of luck, tempered the Violet Palace Method.
Deng Qing suppressed his delight and went on adding firewood and tending the furnace.
Whenever medicinal fumes entered his body, he circulated the Violet Palace Method, grinding away their bitter, acrid sting bit by bit before expelling them with his breath.
Eventually, Deng Qing almost lost track of time.
The underground Cultivation Room never saw daylight. There was only the furnace fire flaring and dimming, and medicinal fumes churning.
Each day, apart from eating, drinking, and switching furnaces, he sat before the fire and silently circulated the Violet Palace Method, like a stone baked over and over by the fumes and flames.
That evening, someone knocked on the Cultivation Room door again.
This time, Steward Liu's voice came from outside. "Brother Deng Qing, come on out. We've finished the last batch of medicine before New Year. It's time to seal the furnace and let the fire die. Tomorrow is New Year's Day."
Deng Qing froze for a moment, then hurriedly damped down the flames, put away the fire tongs, and pushed open the door.
Steward Liu stood outside. When Deng Qing emerged, he looked him up and down.
Deng Qing's face was a little pale, and his clothes were covered in furnace ash and reeked of medicine, but his eyes were still bright and clear.
Steward Liu nodded, took a money pouch from his sleeve, and handed it to him. "Your wages."
Deng Qing took it, opened it, and counted twelve taels. Startled, he looked up. "There's an extra tael."