Chapter 22: The Tall Tree in the Forest Draws the Wind

Yang Fan had never imagined that Cao Xuan would actually succeed on his very first attempt at alchemy! Judging from the earlier process, where Cao Xuan asked questions and he provided guidance, it was clear that Cao Xuan was a complete novice, and had never made a Gathering Qi Pill before.

“This kid... now let’s see how many pills actually form!”

The crimson pills hovered in midair, slowly cooling, their surfaces shedding ash. Since the furnace hadn’t exploded, Yang Fan thought that even if only one out of nine melted pills solidified, that would already mark him as an alchemist.

It was like learning to ride a bicycle—even if someone was holding you steady and you wobbled all over the place, as long as you could keep going once they let go, you’d only get better from there.

Alchemy was much the same; as long as you succeeded in forming even a single pill and remembered the feeling, your success rate would naturally rise from then on.

With a rush of breath, the pill ash fell away, and Cao Xuan produced a porcelain bottle.

“Wait!” Yang Fan rubbed his eyes, then bounced on his feet, shaking his head before looking again.

Ten pills floated quietly in the air.

“Was this really your first time refining pills?”

Cao Xuan nodded.

“And you succeeded in one try?”

Cao Xuan nodded helplessly again.

“And you formed ten pills at once!”

This time, Cao Xuan didn’t move. Yang Fan gripped his shoulders and shook him vigorously. “Damn it, are you the alchemist here, or am I?!”

Cao Xuan pointed at the badge on Yang Fan’s waist. “Senior brother, of course you’re the alchemist.”

Yang Fan felt like he was losing his mind. He had only paused to think for a moment, and in that time, the pills had formed—all ten of them! How was that even possible?

“You! Right now—refine another batch!”

Cao Xuan shook his head, then checked the time. There was more than enough to refine another batch, especially since he used a fierce flame, cutting his refining time in half.

Where others needed half an hour for one batch, he could finish in fifteen minutes.

He started again—skilled hands igniting a strong flame from the start. This time, Yang Fan calmed himself, determined to observe with the humility of an apprentice.

But seeing the fierce flame, he couldn’t help a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “What kind of alchemist starts straight off with a strong fire? This is alchemy, not a race against time!”

Still, he swallowed his complaints and watched on.

In about ten minutes, Cao Xuan skillfully added the ginseng, extracting a clear, pale golden liquid.

This time, even if Yang Fan wanted to overthink it, he forced himself to stay calm and observe.

“Damn, the yellow ganoderma just melted like that?”

“And the Gathering Qi Orchid—aren’t you supposed to add it in four portions? What kind of technique did you learn from watching earlier?!”

Yang Fan felt his mind was coming apart.

Meanwhile, the second attempt only made Cao Xuan more proficient.

He thought to himself, “I understand now why Senior Sister Ye Caixuan adds a bit of flour. It’s a catalyst, helping the three ingredients blend better during the pill formation. But this method, while it raises the pill count and success rate, makes the pills less pure. Actually, if you fully extract the ginseng’s essence during refining, it can envelop the other two ingredients and push the Gathering Qi Pill’s quality to the limit.”

If Ye Caixuan could hear Cao Xuan’s thoughts, she might choke with outrage. The Ye family’s secret method—though it was just a pinch of flour—was highly particular about when and how much to add. It could raise the success rate and produce high-grade Gathering Qi Pills, which the Spirit Herb Pavilion bought at a price a whole spirit stone above market, proof of its value.

Even so, Yang Fan’s own pills, though lower grade, were still of decent quality, and the pavilion only paid three spirit stones per pill. Four per pill was a price not just anyone could command.

Cao Xuan, unaware of all this, jostled his true energy, opening the furnace.

Yang Fan stared blankly as ten Gathering Qi Pills shook off their ash in midair, like kittens shaking out their fur.

“Ding, ding, ding—” The sound of pills falling into the porcelain bottle rang out; another ten Gathering Qi Pills, perfectly refined.

“A hundred percent success rate, ten pills per batch...”

“No, I still don’t get it. Junior brother, do it again—my treat for the ingredients...”

Yang Fan was starting to lose it, but Cao Xuan, now weak, replied, “Senior brother, I’m out of true energy!”

Indeed, that was why only after reaching the seventh level of Qi training did inner disciples have a chance of becoming alchemists—their true energy could finally withstand the “waste” involved.

If Cao Xuan had used a gentle flame, at his fourth level of Qi training, even without mistakes, his energy would have run dry after just one batch.

But it was only thanks to his profound insight from “True Explanation of the Alchemy Path” that he could use almost masterful methods, wasting not a drop of energy, and manage two batches.

It finally dawned on Yang Fan. “Ah, right, you’re only at the fourth level of Qi training!”

“Wait—fourth level? Holy—!”

He was speechless; truly, he’d been utterly outclassed.

“So there really are geniuses in this world…”

“Junior brother, you know Senior Sister Ye Caixuan, right? Did you watch her refine Gathering Qi Pills many times?”

Cao Xuan shook his head, meaning he didn’t know her at all.

Yang Fan nodded, “Fair enough. Even if you did, with your recent breakthrough to the fourth level, you wouldn’t have the ability to refine pills anyway. Honestly, until just now, I didn’t think you could do it—at best, I thought you’d get familiar with the process. Tell me, is there really anyone who can succeed in alchemy before reaching the seventh level?”

Cao Xuan pointed at himself. Yang Fan immediately clutched his head.

…

Afterward, Yang Fan calmed down and finally accepted that he was not a genius.

He couldn’t help but sigh, “Junior brother, you must have an extraordinarily high spiritual root, right? They say those with high talent shine like this.”

Seeing Cao Xuan’s awkward look, Yang Fan quickly held up a hand. “I know, it’s not polite to probe others’ talent. I won’t ask.”

Generally, after the entry test, unless someone asked, cultivators rarely revealed their spiritual root attributes. It was like the story of Han the Demon King in Cao Xuan’s previous life: he started off with a fake spiritual root, but once he reached the Golden Core or Nascent Soul stage, who would believe he was a fake? No one would, especially since most with fake roots couldn’t even reach Foundation Establishment.

Now, Cao Xuan was in much the same position. With such a gift for alchemy—though it might not be tied to cultivation talent—his spiritual root couldn’t be too poor.

Yang Fan went on, “Junior brother, it seems you didn’t know about your alchemy talent before this. You can go to the Alchemy Hall and apply to take the alchemist’s exam—if you can successfully refine a batch, you’ll be a full-fledged alchemist.”

“But I’ve thought it over and I don’t recommend you apply so soon.”

“In short, being an official sect alchemist means having the right to use the Alchemy Hall, with certain benefits. But at the fourth level of Qi training, you’d only attract trouble by standing out.”