Chapter 24: Alchemy

Dawn broke, casting a faint light over the land. At the summit of Bottle Mountain, clouds coiled and drifted, shrouding the jagged rocks and precipitous ravines, making the entire peak appear exceptionally steep and forbidding.

Halfway up, within a cleft in a sheer cliff, a young man was digging out a pitch-black herb with an expression of unrestrained excitement. His lips were red, his teeth white, his features sharply defined. His skin gleamed with a jade-like luster, faintly radiant. Though clad in coarse linen, nothing could mask the unique vigor and masculinity that emanated from him.

After seeing Chen Yulou and his companions off, Li Yang had not hurried down the mountain but chose instead to remain. Since ancient times, Bottle Mountain had been a forbidden ground, perilous and rarely visited by ordinary folk. Yet to Li Yang, it was a treasure trove beyond compare.

In just a week, Li Yang had traversed nearly every peak within dozens of miles, and the rare herbs he had gathered were too numerous to count. Satisfied, he placed the millennia-old Black Herb into the basket on his back and leapt out from the cliff’s fissure.

A sudden hiss echoed through the mountains as mist rolled violently. The six-winged golden centipede, over ten feet long, appeared and vanished within the swirling vapors. With a sharp cry, it caught Li Yang mid-fall with perfect precision.

In the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the golden centipede carried Li Yang to the half-collapsed underground pill palace at the foot of the ravine.

Li Yang had lingered on Bottle Mountain not only to gather herbs, but primarily for the pill furnace within the palace, hoping to refine elixirs. To craft a true spiritual elixir, a furnace was indispensable. The art of alchemy had, since ancient times, been shrouded in legend, and even Daoist cultivation drew inspiration from it.

Since time immemorial, elixirs had been divided into three grades: common, spiritual, and golden. The common were mere medicine, the spiritual became true elixirs, and the golden were immortal. Elixirs were further classified into two kinds: those made from herbs and those made from minerals.

Herbal elixirs were gentle, easily absorbed by the body. Mineral elixirs, while far more potent, were often laced with deadly poison. Only those with profound cultivation could withstand their power; for the uninitiated, they were more harm than good. Yet, the exotic beasts of heaven and earth were unafraid of such toxins. Thus, Li Yang’s family tradition primarily employed mineral elixirs to nourish their beasts—both for their strength and because, as spiritual energy waned from the world, rare herbs had become ever scarcer.

The marrow-cleansing pills Li Yang usually made from mercury, cinnabar, saltpeter, and the like were a type of mineral elixir, meant specifically for raising exotic beasts. Of course, these were merely common-grade and more accurately called medicine.

A true spiritual elixir required far more time and effort, as well as the high-pressure tempering of a furnace. As for the golden elixir, without heaven’s fire, without the ability to absorb wind and dew, one could not even dream of success.

Beneath Bottle Mountain lay an ancient vein of earth-fire, which was why the Song dynasty emperors had chosen this place for their pill palace. However, as ages passed and the land shifted, the earth-fire vein had withered and was now all but useless.

“Move!”

Staring at the pill furnace, over ten feet tall at the center of the pill palace, Li Yang frowned and summoned the golden toad. He was unsure if they could lift it, but it was worth a try.

At the sound of incantations, Li Yang sat cross-legged, focusing his mind. The words “enlarge” and “shrink” flickered in and out of his consciousness. Instantly, the golden toad and six-winged centipede at his sides swelled to monstrous size.

“Rise!”

With a thunderous roar, the six-winged centipede, now over thirty feet long and coiled like a dragon, seized the pill furnace and lifted it skyward. The golden toad, mustering all its strength, wrapped its tongue around the furnace and dragged it forward.

A harsh, grating sound filled the air as the furnace slowly rose. The centipede tightened its grip, its armored scales scraping the furnace and showering sparks.

With a crack and a rumble, as the furnace finally left the ground, the pill palace shook violently and a leaning stone pillar began to collapse.

Not good!

Seeing the pillar about to crash down, Li Yang had no time to hesitate. His energy surged, his body expanded until he was a giant over two meters tall. With both hands, he caught the falling pillar, holding it in place by sheer force.

A painful roar escaped his lips, his face flushed crimson, blood and energy raging within him. His jade-like skin radiated searing heat, glowing like blood-red jade.

Once the golden toad and six-winged centipede had carried the furnace out of the palace, Li Yang pushed off with all his might, leaping away and sprinting out of the collapsing ruins.

Outside, he bent over, gasping for breath, his body shrinking rapidly. Looking down at the bloodied scratches crisscrossing his skin, he could only smile wryly.

The powers of these exotic beasts truly could not be used recklessly. At his current level, using the golden toad’s abilities would at best drain his vital energy, and at worst, cause his body to collapse and die on the spot. Although he cultivated the path of the Human Immortal and possessed robust vitality, he was still no match for those ancient beasts with innate talents. Their supernatural powers could be interchanged and wielded freely, yet his own cultivation could not yet endure such tyrannical forces.

Unless he refined the bloodline of an exotic beast into himself, he must never again employ their powers directly on his own body. The mere memory of that tearing pain made him shudder with lingering fear.

After a brief rest, Li Yang gathered materials on the spot, constructing a simple stone platform. He set the pill furnace atop it and began to stoke the fire for alchemy.

Three hours later, as the furnace glowed red-hot and the aged crust flaked away, Li Yang nodded in satisfaction. He opened the lid and, in careful order, added the medicinal ingredients. His energy surged, linking his vital breath to the furnace. The golden toad, nearby, gathered bundles of dry wood and tossed them in, occasionally exhaling a gust of air to feed the flames.

The structure of the furnace was unique, with inner and outer chambers, creating a world unto itself. As the heat increased, the air within was gradually expelled, forming a vacuum. Li Yang controlled the golden toad through sheer will, adjusting the intensity of the fire.

A full day and night passed, martial fire forging and gentle fire nurturing. Only then were the impurities separated from the herbs, yielding thirty-six perfect orbs of liquid.

At noon the next day, Li Yang finally opened his eyes, leapt up, and threw open the lid. Thirty-six spiritual elixirs, each the size of a dragon’s eye, soared into the air on a wave of fragrant aroma and were swiftly collected into a porcelain bottle he had prepared in advance.

As the saying goes: “Heaven and earth’s creation condenses into vital energy; yin and yang nurture the dragon and tiger.”

From this first batch of Foundation Pills, thirty-six were formed. Eighteen were a vivid emerald green, their surfaces shimmering with spiritual light—these were genuine Foundation Pills. The other eighteen were dark and murky, clearly failed pills.

Li Yang was pleasantly surprised by the result. Though he had made many pills before, this was his first attempt at such a spiritual elixir, and this success rate was more than satisfactory.

Beaming, he stowed away the elixirs. Noticing the golden toad and six-winged centipede eyeing him ravenously, he rewarded each with a failed pill. Despite their impurities, for these ancient beasts, they were no different from the authentic ones.