A first attempt at alchemy

The tribespeople had very mixed feelings about the news that Mu Bai had carved his soul mark.

"He still isn't a child of our tribe, after all..."

"What use is carving a flower petal?"

"Ah, luckily we still have Hai Chen, otherwise..."

"What a pity about that child."

Nine years ago, Hai Ya had brought Mu Bai back to the tribe from the Vast Dao Sea. Discovering his innately powerful soul, he had believed the child's arrival was a gift from the tribe's ancestral spirit and devoted the strength of the entire tribe to raising him.

Yet he had failed.

The tribespeople's words reached Hai Ang, the tribe's Chief of Fangs. He did not stop them, but he firmly believed Mu Bai would not disappoint the tribe.

Hai Chen likewise could not understand what use there was in Mu Bai carving a soul mark of a single pear blossom petal. But he believed Mu Bai would never fade into the crowd. Even if Mu Bai truly could go no farther along the path of cultivation, he would swear to protect his brother with his fists and defend their tribe.

The new year soon arrived. All the other children had failed, and a stifling atmosphere hung over the tribe. The weight of the snow snapped pines and cypresses.

Ling’er was desperate to see Mu Bai, but even this innocent, sweet little girl sensed the oppressive mood in the tribe.

The fire flickered in the ancestral house. Mu Bai stood before the Clan Patriarch with his head bowed, like a child who had done something wrong. Filled with guilt, he dared not look at the Clan Patriarch or meet the tribespeople's eyes as they concealed their disappointment.

"Child, your road has only just begun. You may not be able to become a soul cultivator, but you can become a powerful alchemist. With the gift of your flora soul mark, you can control your divine sense and refine precious pills that ordinary herbal decoctions could never compare with."

Hai Ya fumbled inside his robe and took out a pill that gleamed with a dark luster.

"This is a Soul-Returning Pill, an extremely precious medicine. When an early second-level soul cultivator has exhausted his soul power, taking just one will instantly replenish it and restore him to his peak fighting strength."

Mu Bai stared at the Soul-Returning Pill in the Clan Patriarch's hand, listening to his account in stunned disbelief.

"Your first soul mark is of flora, so you can embark on the path of an alchemist. Alchemists are extremely rare. Only large tribes or cultivation sects have the standing to possess them, refining pills for their tribespeople and disciples so their cultivation advances by leaps and bounds."

"In this world, besides soul cultivators, Divine Cultivators, and body cultivators, many other paths have evolved, such as alchemists, artifact smiths, talisman makers, and formation ritualists. They are collectively known as practitioners of the arts..."

Hai Ya slowly described the broader world of cultivators on this continent.

"Those whose ancestral spirit marks are powerful divine beasts usually choose the path of soul cultivation, cultivating soul power alone. Of course, some choose to become Divine Cultivators, specializing in mental power and carving no further soul marks. Those whose ancestral spirit marks are plants, metals, or stones choose to become practitioners of the arts, continuing to visualize and copy other spirits of metal and wood, using their divine sense to refine pills and forge artifacts. Of course, there is no shortage of unusual people. Some practitioners of the arts choose to visualize beast spirits as well and gain powerful fighting strength. But everyone's potential is limited, and it is difficult to possess both. You must think this through: whether you want to become a pure alchemist."

As he listened to the Clan Patriarch, Mu Bai's heart grew ever clearer. He knew the road ahead had not been blocked off; rather, it held still more boundless possibilities.

Winter passed and spring came. The gloom over the tribe was swept away, and life flourished again. The sounds of children chasing and roughhousing never ceased, and bursts of laughter over successful hunts rang out from time to time.

Ordinary tribespeople did not know that Mu Bai had chosen alchemy. The emergence of an alchemist would undoubtedly propel a small tribe into a swift rise. Yet while he was growing, he would always face the risk of being snuffed out.

The tribe had no pill furnace, no Earthfire, and certainly no pill formulas. Mu Bai could make no headway with alchemy. The Clan Patriarch was troubled too, and hurriedly left the tribe before his injuries and ailments had healed.

Fortunately, the shaman healer Hai Quan had stockpiled plenty of medicinal herbs, so Mu Bai began by learning their medicinal properties from him. Mu Bai had always been tenacious, and his natural intelligence was decent as well. In little more than ten days, he memorized the properties of every medicinal herb in the tribe. "Ginseng tastes sweet, greatly replenishes vital energy, quenches thirst and generates fluids, harmonizes nutritive and defensive energy. Astragalus is warming, checks sweating and secures the exterior, drains sores and promotes flesh growth, indispensable for deficient energy. Atractylodes is sweet and warming, strengthens the spleen and stomach, stops diarrhea and dispels dampness, also clearing phlegm and fullness..."

After he mastered their properties, Hai Quan taught Mu Bai to brew some common herbal decoctions. As it happened, with spring's warmth and renewal, many tribespeople developed bone-steaming fever, coughing, coughing blood, and feverish heat in their chests, palms, and soles-symptoms of deficient kidney yin and excessive fire.

Raw rehmannia was slightly cooling and could dispel damp heat. Mu Bai brewed it together with figwort root, tree peony bark, and red peony root, then distributed the decoction to the tribespeople. They recovered within days.

Soon, tribespeople injured while hunting, with damaged tendons or bones, or suffering headaches and fevers, all came to Mu Bai for treatment and medicine. Once cured, they praised him without end.

"Since medicinal herbs can be brewed into decoctions, they can be refined into medicinal pills..." The Soul-Returning Pill the Clan Patriarch had produced had left a deep impression on Mu Bai. Gazing at the glossy black pill in his hand, he pondered repeatedly, "The key to refining pills lies in 'refining'!"

Mu Bai had spent years cultivating and trapping beasts in the forests of Mount Kunyu, so naturally he remembered a fissure beneath the cliff behind the mountain. It was a scar left by the collision between the Dao Sea and the continent. Molten rock occasionally surged within it before flowing back into the sea.

There was no time to lose. Mu Bai sneaked into the ancestral house. He remembered a battered cauldron there, black and utterly unremarkable, with several especially conspicuous chips along its rim. Using it to refine pills was already being generous to it.

He reached the foot of the rear cliff, moonlight streaming like white silk through the night sky. Setting the Crow Cauldron over a small fissure, Mu Bai used his method for brewing decoctions, adding figwort root, tree peony bark, and red peony root in sequence and bringing them to a boil.

Several hours passed without a pill being made, while the molten rock roasted Mu Bai red all over. The great cauldronful of decoction had thickened considerably, but its burnt smell grew stronger and stronger. Even someone as good at enduring hardship as Mu Bai covered his nose and mouth, choking and coughing nonstop, his eyes streaming from the fumes. Amid the smoke and scorching heat, his little face became streaked with soot.

"Hey, you boy there, stop this instant! You dare use me to cook soup?" An illusory old man emerged from the Crow Cauldron, pointing at Mu Bai's nose as he cursed, "You little beggar! How did I ever end up in your hands?"

Mu Bai stopped coughing. He did not quite understand what the old man was shouting about and remembered only the words "cook soup."

"No, Grandpa, you're mistaken. I'm refining pills, not cooking soup..."

"What? Refining pills? Have I fallen out of step with the times after sleeping for a few years? Impossible! No matter what, pills must be 'refined,' not stewed in one big pot!"

The old man alternated between thought and outrage, his expression shifting between dark and fair. At a loss, Mu Bai could only stand there blankly and watch him.

"You little thief, you little beggar! Take out your pill formula and let me have a look!"

"I don't have a pill formula..."

"What pill are you refining?"

"I'm not sure. I know it treats bone-steaming fever very well. Everyone in the tribe who used it said it was good..."

Mu Bai wanted to continue. That had been the first great thing he had done for the tribe, and he still felt proud of it.

"Enough, enough, stop talking! What a load of nonsense. Remember, I am a soul treasure, a battle artifact of boundless power! When I smash people, it is like a mountain crashing down on their heads. I'm no damned pill furnace!"

"But I need a pill furnace to refine pills..."

"Whose foolish child are you? Doesn't your family have a pill furnace? Which tribe are you a beggar from?"

"I'm not a beggar. I'm a member of the Haibei Tribe. My name is Mu Bai!"

"What an unworthy descendant! To think the Haibei Tribe produced a fool like you. Has no one taught you to refine pills? No formula, no furnace-at least you aren't foolish enough to put me on a cooking stove."

"No one in our tribe knows how to refine pills..."

"What did you say? In the whole great Haibei Tribe, not one person knows how to refine pills? Has the Haibei Tribe fallen into such destitution since Ancestor Hai Ze's passing?"

During the great war against the Immortal Realm more than twenty thousand years ago, Ancestor Hai Ze had faced three Immortal Kings head-on at the realm of great perfection, battling for months. In the end, even this supreme soul treasure's artifact spirit had been shattered. Only after more than twenty thousand years of slumber had the Crow Cauldron's spirit begun to awaken.

"You little fool, stop gawking! Take me back to the tribe at once. But do not tell outsiders that I have awakened!"

The old man pointed at the Crow Cauldron, which was still bubbling and giving off foul fumes.

"You mean you're this Crow Cauldron?"

"Obviously! I am the rare and infinitely powerful Supreme Cauldron...'s artifact spirit!"

Having failed to refine any pills, Mu Bai felt dejected. Having to listen constantly to the deranged old man's rambling boasts left him utterly speechless.

Deranged and long-winded though he was, Mu Bai still rather admired a few of the old man's abilities. He appeared without a sound and vanished in a flash, which was quite wondrous. Once Mu Bai returned to the tribe and greeted the tribespeople, they could neither see the old man nor hear his rambling, while Mu Bai himself was nearly driven mad with irritation.

"What a decline!"

"Such decay..."

"Not even a single cultivator!"

Mu Bai argued that Uncle Hai Ang, the Chief of Fangs, was a peak second-level soul cultivator, only to receive even fiercer abuse. "Unworthy descendants! A dignified Chief of Fangs, and merely a second-level Soul Adept..."

Mu Bai was speechless. Can't I just stop talking? Otherwise, one sentence will bring on another endless torrent.

"Hey, child, how can you be so rude to your ancestor? Do you know how many years it's been since I last spoke? Keeping it all in nearly killed me..."

Mu Bai still did not answer.

"Such terrible decay! When I return to the yellow earth, how will I have the face to meet Hai Ze... no, I must accomplish something! After all, I am an artifact spirit rare in this world, one who battles heaven and earth!"

Seeing Mu Bai remain unmoved by his bold declaration, the old man flew into a rage.

"Hey, child, did you hear what I said? I'm going to teach you alchemy!"

"Thank you, Ancestor!"

The very reason Mu Bai had remained silent was that he was waiting for those words. Add to that his perfectly timed address of "Ancestor," and the old man was instantly overcome with emotion, weeping streams of tears. "I have a responsibility to properly raise the descendants of the Haibei Tribe..."

"Alchemy means using your divine sense to control medicinal ingredients and regulate the heat, refining and melting the ingredients into liquid inside the pill furnace. This step is crucial. The slightest carelessness in controlling your divine sense will roast the ingredients into charcoal. When Hai Ze first learned alchemy, he often left me covered in black, burnt gunk too. Er, I mean, he blackened the pill furnace. I only agreed to serve as your pill furnace temporarily because I pitied you..."

The artifact spirit ancestor seemed incapable of stopping once he began talking, but judging by his manner, he clearly had only a patchy understanding of alchemy himself. It was simply that Ancestor Hai Ze had once used him to practice refining pills in his youth.

Could it be that even becoming an awe-inspiring divine crow cannot change a crow's nature?

For the first time, Mu Bai made certain inappropriate associations about the tribe's ancestral spirit, but quickly suppressed them and concentrated on controlling the melting of the ingredients.

"You boy there, pay attention! It's about to burn! Ah, so stupid. You've burned it five times already!"

With the slightest lapse in Mu Bai's attention, a figwort root became a pinch of ash. His little face flushed scarlet with embarrassment, though that might also have been due to the molten rock's scorching heat.

"Come on, again! No resting. Of all the youngsters I've taught, not one has been as stupid as you. Stupid and lazy..."

"Ancestor, I've pretty much memorized the method. Why don't you go cool off to the side for a while?"

"I'm not afraid! What can this little bit of molten rock do to me? Hmm? You actually find me annoying! You unfilial brat, I'll smack you..."

The artifact spirit ancestor angrily slapped Mu Bai's head. Mu Bai scratched it, not really feeling anything.

Although he had failed five times, Mu Bai had actually grasped the knack of using his divine sense to melt and refine the ingredients. He had merely wanted to test the different results produced by varying degrees of control.

He sent the last figwort root into the cauldron. His hands moved as though trailing countless threads, and the root floated up and down within. In fewer than ten breaths, it melted into a pool of pale yellow liquid flowing across the bottom of the black cauldron.

"Quick, put in the red peony root! Keep refining!"

The artifact spirit ancestor seemed quite satisfied that Mu Bai had successfully refined the figwort root. At least it proved he was not teaching an idiot.

Perhaps because they were common medicinal herbs, each took fewer than a few dozen breaths to refine into liquid. Red, yellow, and white juices mixed and blended together, already giving off a fragrance that refreshed the heart and lungs. Meanwhile, fine beads of sweat covered Mu Bai's forehead. His divine sense had been heavily depleted.

"Quick, don't slack off! Gather the medicinal liquid into balls. This preserves the pills' medicinal potency and is a crucial step in the latter stages of alchemy!"

Mu Bai gritted his teeth and forced himself to comply. Before long, three embryonic pills appeared inside the Crow Cauldron. As for him, he had already overdrawn his strength and collapsed limply onto the ground.

"All right, next they just need to be nurtured in the warmth for a moment. Trash pills like these, nurtured in a peerless soul treasure like me, take no more than a breath..."

The artifact spirit ancestor always seized any moment he deemed suitable to launch into another endless torrent.

"Ancestor, do you have any other interests?"

"Of course. My sex is male, and my interest is women. But are you a woman? Speaking of which, I haven't touched a woman in tens of thousands of years. Back when I fought across the lands with Ancestor Hai Ze, those girls were truly beautiful. The western ones had big breasts and long legs, and the eastern ones knew how to attend to a man. All good. I just didn't like the bearfolk ones. They smelled. Couldn't stand it..."

The artifact spirit ancestor seemed to catch the scent of a bearfolk girl right then. He bared his teeth and twisted his mouth as if about to vomit.

Mu Bai had now truly experienced the artifact spirit ancestor's power and could only stop answering him.

"What are you daydreaming about? You child, learning bad habits! The moment you hear me talking about those affairs with the girls, your imagination runs wild! Hurry and take that piece of scrap iron off me. The pills are done!"

At those words, Mu Bai immediately forgot his exhaustion and sprang to his feet. He opened the Crow Cauldron, and a rich medicinal fragrance rushed into his nose. "These are pills! I really made them! Grandpa Clan Patriarch, I did it..."

Though he had not taken one, Mu Bai knew that in medicinal potency alone, a single pill exceeded a whole pot of decoction by more than several dozen times.