Chapter 40: Gifted with the Breakthrough Pill

As a deep crimson flame burst forth beneath the alchemy furnace, the most critical moment of pill condensation had arrived for this batch.

A faint, resonant hum sounded.

Within the meticulously crafted pill chamber of the Yan Family Apothecary, Yan Qingwan’s eyes shone brilliantly, her expression a mix of disbelief and elated surprise.

Regaining her composure, her first instinct was to look at Li Ji’an beside her.

“Brother Li, just now… was that the sound of a pill singing?” She could hardly believe it even now.

A smile of joy appeared on Li Ji’an’s face as well.

He had succeeded in his experiment this time.

The same pill recipe, the same alchemical flame, the same spiritual focus—simply adjusting the intensity of the flame could raise the quality of the finished pill.

He silently reviewed the entire process in his mind, imprinting it firmly into his own compendium of pill-crafting knowledge, before turning to Yan Qingwan and nodding in approval.

At the same time, gazing at the still-burning alchemical fire, he could not help but feel a touch of envy.

Despite the immense pressure of intensive pill refining last year, Yan Qingwan had managed to break through to the seventh layer of Qi Refinement without resorting to breakthrough pills, becoming a near top-tier cultivator of the Wildlands—a feat that filled Li Ji’an with admiration.

No wonder she possessed a mid-grade spiritual root with sixteen threads attuned to fire!

Yet what Li Ji’an envied even more at this moment was that, with her late-stage Qi Refinement cultivation, the fire she conjured had already undergone a qualitative transformation into deep crimson—hotter, more potent, and more precisely controlled than any mid-stage flame.

This, too, was the key to Yan Qingwan’s success in refining the advanced Qi-boosting elixir most needed by late-stage cultivators, and the pill’s clear resonance just now proved its quality had reached at least the upper grade.

“Medicines are three parts poison”—so too with pills. Besides toxicity, there is resistance.

The pills sold cheaply in the North Street market were mostly inferior, high in toxins and resistance, sometimes up to seventy or eighty percent.

On the other hand, South Street apothecaries would never sell such substandard wares, lest they ruin their own reputation; the lowest grade there was standard, though even low-grade pills contained about thirty percent toxins, mid-grade only ten percent, and upper-grade pills’ toxicity was all but negligible.

As for exquisite or supreme-grade pills, those were refined to the utmost—free of any toxins and with greatly enhanced efficacy.

Now, thanks to Yan Qingwan’s late-stage Qi Refinement and her lifelong cultivation of soul and spirit, she could successfully produce advanced first-order pills fit for late-stage cultivators—a true first-order advanced alchemist in form, if not yet in reputation.

Yet even within the same rank, the difference in alchemists lay in the quality of their final product. An advanced first-order alchemist might not always produce even upper-grade basic pills, while a basic alchemist might occasionally craft a masterpiece.

This, in truth, was the true standard by which an alchemist’s skill was judged.

To be acknowledged as a true senior alchemist, one’s upper-grade success rate had to be at least sixty percent.

“I really refined an upper-grade pill!” Opening the furnace to retrieve the pill, Yan Qingwan was nearly moved to tears.

“Qingwan, don’t get carried away. Calm your mind and review the nuances of your fire control. Even after a hundred miles, the journey is only half done—this is just the beginning,” Li Ji’an counseled gently.

Yan Qingwan immediately grew serious, closed her eyes, and meditated.

Not wasting the abundant spiritual energy in the room, Li Ji’an, too, began his cultivation.

To ensure both success rate and quality, any well-equipped pill chamber would have a spirit-gathering array; theirs boasted an advanced formation, and the aura was thick.

Only after a full cycle of practice did Yan Qingwan slowly open her eyes once more.

She rose and bowed deeply to Li Ji’an. “Thank you for your guidance, Brother Li.”

“No need for such formality. Advancing together, learning together—that is our duty,” Li Ji’an replied with a smile.

Over the past half year, the apothecary’s finances had become strained. Save for a few good days at opening, likely thanks to supporters, business had been dismal for months.

His hopes of buying breakthrough pills from his share of the profits seemed more distant than ever.

The root of the problem was clear: the Yan Family’s apothecary lacked variety, the pill quality wasn’t high enough, and with the Zheng Family Apothecary slashing prices, it was no wonder customers were scarce.

In the end, he and Yan Qingwan had resolved to improve their own strength and raise pill quality further. They would also diversify, crafting a broader array of pills—including some rare or niche varieties—to differentiate themselves.

The Yan family spent a considerable sum to acquire many new pill recipes.

These enriched Li Ji’an’s alchemical repertoire even further. With his calculations and Yan Qingwan’s practical efforts, the results had been promising.

“Keep at it. I hope you’ll soon become a true senior alchemist,” he encouraged. With the shop’s current income, Li Ji’an had no choice but to pin his hopes for breakthrough pills on Yan Qingwan; when she ascended to that rank, she would be able to refine them.

“Don’t worry, Brother Li. I’ll do everything I can!” Yan Qingwan replied earnestly.

Seeing that dawn had already broken outside, the two wasted no time and left the pill chamber together.

Pill refining was utterly exhausting, and only their stronger-than-average spirits allowed them to endure such relentless labor.

“Greetings, Miss Yan. Greetings, Honored Guest Li!”

As they left the apothecary, servants and workers saluted them.

Yan Qingwan handed the freshly refined upper-grade Qi-boosting pill to Uncle Zhong, then left with Li Ji’an to return to their residence in the western quarter for some rest.

“Go on, go on! No orphans loitering in the market!”

Just as they stepped outside, they saw several market patrolmen shooing away a group of children.

“I’m not an orphan—my father will come back! Please don’t make me leave. I’m nurturing my spiritual root, I…”

“I beg you, sirs, please let me stay. Once I finish nurturing my root and succeed in cultivation, I’ll be sure to repay your kindness…”

“I won’t leave. Without spiritual energy to nurture my root, how can I have talent? Without talent, the immortal path is hopeless. I’d rather die here than go…”

Yan Qingwan frowned slightly, exchanged a glance with Li Ji’an, and shook her head helplessly.

All beings suffer; in the sea of bitterness, each struggles to cross as best they can.

While it would be no trouble for her to take in a few children, she could not—her own clan still needed too many resources.

Li Ji’an nodded. Those who neglect their own kin and generously help outsiders are either fools or scoundrels, treating neither family nor clan as truly their own.

He sighed inwardly—yet another of his possible “return to youth” plans had just been rendered impossible.

Time passed quietly; in a blink, another half year was gone.

Though he hadn’t done the final accounts, Li Ji’an already had a rough estimate: had it not been for the medicinal field jointly developed with the Wei family, they would have operated at a loss this year.

Fortunately, Yan Qingwan’s alchemical skill had improved greatly over the year.

Her upper-grade pill success rate was now nearly thirty percent; in another half year, she’d surely earn her place as a senior alchemist.

Then, finally, the shop would turn a real profit.

Li Ji’an remained calm and patient.

Only one thing troubled him: Zheng Tianxiang had been visiting the apothecary more and more, and his interest in Yan Qingwan was all too apparent.

This boded ill.

Still, within the market, he dared not act openly.

“Brother Li, why not try again today?” Yan Qingwan suggested as Li Ji’an entered the pill chamber.

Li Ji’an chuckled. “It’s not that I’m unwilling, but my alchemical fire is even weaker than I’d thought. Even if I could force a pill to form, neither the yield nor the quality could be assured. Better not to waste ingredients.”

The flame was his fatal flaw. Though his knowledge rivaled that of senior alchemists, he was only truly effective as an instructor—his own hands weren’t up to the task.

“Don’t you always tell me not to underestimate myself? Why are you so harsh on yourself? Try again,” Yan Qingwan insisted.

Li Ji’an smiled, then sat before the furnace, pushing out his palms. A small flame sprang to life beneath the vessel.

In contrast to Yan Qingwan’s deep crimson fire, his was faint, pale red, its heat and pressure clearly lacking.

Most critically, his dantian’s power was so thin it could only manage basic, simple pills; anything more complex and the fire would likely sputter out.

“Brother Li, remember how your flame feels at this moment,” Yan Qingwan suddenly said, hinting at something.

Li Ji’an turned to her. “You’re acting strange today.”

Yan Qingwan smiled mysteriously and, without further ado, extended her right hand before him.

Nestled in her palm was a flawless, crystalline pill.

“Feiyun Pill!”