Jing Wen sat cross-legged in the Quiet Chamber, holding a pill the size of a longan in his palm.
The pill was perfectly rounded, its surface flowing with interwoven blue and red markings and giving off a medicinal fragrance that refreshed the heart and soul-the Third-Grade Nine-Turn Pill was a success.
"At least all that Green Liquid didn't go to waste." Jing Wen sighed softly and carefully placed the pill in a Jade Bottle.
To gather the five-hundred-year-old primary ingredients needed for two batches of Nine-Turn Pills, he had nearly exhausted his reserves of Green Liquid.
When the first batch failed because he had mishandled the heat, his heart had practically bled.
Wisps of smoke rose from the bronze incense burner in the corner of the Quiet Chamber, casting Jing Wen's face alternately into light and shadow.
Six Nine-Turn Pills lay quietly in the Jade Bottle, a better result than he had expected.
Although his success rate was only fifty percent and he had produced just six pills, this was Jing Wen's first attempt at refining Nine-Turn Pills, and he was very satisfied.
Jing Wen's gaze swept over Doctor Jiang's Sound Transmission Talisman on the table in the Quiet Chamber.
With Doctor Jiang's mastery of alchemy, both his success rate and the number of pills he produced would have far surpassed Jing Wen's.
Yet he had never resorted to that option.
"The Pill Dao is like the way of the sword. In the end, you have to walk it yourself," Jing Wen murmured.
He was not as obsessed with the Pill Dao as Doctor Jiang, but since he had embarked on the path of cultivation, he could not leave these essential skills entirely in someone else's hands.
It was like playing games in his previous life: he could find someone