9 Miscellaneous Writings on Medicine

The morning lesson lasted no more than half an hour and had naturally long since ended. The two made their way to the dining hall to partake in breakfast. Pear Moon, lacking the disposition for cultivation and possessing only a mortal body, required three meals a day. Even Qin Chuan, with his meager first level of Qi Refining, was far from the realm of fasting, able merely to endure a bit of hunger.

Of course, both could take the Fasting Pills as well, but why bring unnecessary hardship upon themselves?

When they arrived at the dining hall, breakfast had already been prepared, and a faint, enticing aroma lingered in the air. There were no attendants in the Hall of Guiding Phoenixes; every menial task was handled by puppets. What was truly astonishing was that, without Qin Chuan’s prior knowledge, one would never guess that the old man before them was in fact a puppet. He appeared no different from a bent, elderly gentleman leaning on a cane.

Pear Moon’s nose quivered slightly. “Old Cat, what’s for breakfast today?”

“You little rascal, what else would you want? The usual—spirit rice!” Old Cat shook his head, scolding with a smile and a kindly expression.

Perhaps Qin Chuan and Pear Moon were not connoisseurs, but any worldly cultivator who encountered this puppet would cry out in surprise. Such a lifelike puppet—merely a servant?

“Junior Brother, you may not know, but Old Cat is the only puppet in the hall. All chores, washing, cooking, even tending the vegetable garden, are managed by him. Since I can remember, Old Cat has always been here.”

“Vegetable garden?” Qin Chuan mused inwardly; it must refer to the herbal gardens atop Mount Guiding Phoenix.

Spirit rice is more essential to Qi Refining cultivators than spirit stones, capable of shaping the spiritual body, purifying impurities, gathering spiritual energy, and dispelling mundane dust. For both Pear Moon and Qin Chuan, spirit rice is a delicacy. No matter how profound one’s fate or insight, brilliance can still be obscured. This ties into the mundane world’s dust and the spiritual energy of the transcendent path—a dilemma every Qi Refining cultivator must face, Qin Chuan included.

At the sandalwood table, the two ate their breakfast with measured grace. Contrary to Old Cat’s words, besides spirit rice porridge, the table was laden with an array of delicacies.

There was golden minced and jade-white dishes: garlic, ginger, salt, white plum, mandarin peel, perilla, and celery pounded into a paste, blended with golden-hued flower greens. Sliced perch was served in delicate layers resembling mosquito wings, so light that a breath might send them fluttering, finished with a verdant soup thickened with water shield greens, exquisitely delicious.

While enjoying the small dishes, Qin Chuan, finding the moment idle, asked, “Pear Moon, have you ever perused the Miscellany of Herbal Evolution?” He could tell the book’s marvelous tales were crafted with the stylized brushwork of antiquity, and thus dared not believe them all.

Pear Moon inclined her head, a gentle smile gracing her features. Cradling her warm porridge, she blew softly, a blush blooming on her cheeks.

“The protagonist of the book is merely a mortal, yet he encounters wonders that many cultivators never see. Surely much of it is fiction. Why did Master lend me this book?”

“Actually…” The delicacies proved so tempting that Pear Moon found herself tongue-tied for a moment.

“On the contrary, almost everything in the book is faithfully recorded. I once had similar doubts, but Master told me so herself. Every herb and every alchemical method in the book truly existed, and even now, they hold great value for reference.”

“They truly existed?” Qin Chuan seemed to grasp the crux. “How much can still be preserved today?” He recalled the yellowed pages of the ancient text, shaking his head with a smile. Seeing Pear Moon’s ambiguous answer, he guessed she too did not know. The mysteries left by the book seemed unlikely ever to be verified.

“The book describes the Curved Spirit Grass, which can advance one’s cultivation by ten years. Yet the protagonist is only mortal—how could he withstand such potency? Even more baffling, after consuming it, he felt nothing odd, yet could accurately discern its properties. Is there truly such a wondrous person in the world?” Qin Chuan scoffed.

“There surely is. You will understand in time,” Pear Moon replied, unwavering, despite Qin Chuan’s disbelief.

Her confidence left Qin Chuan uncertain. He soon smiled wryly; it was not a question for the moment, and the truth mattered little. “If so, I think I understand Master’s intent.” He set aside the unanswerable doubts.

“Let’s leave this matter. The spirit stones and pills you gave me yesterday have all been consumed by this thing. What should I do?” Qin Chuan gestured to the white jade seal in his hand, not daring to call it a toy aloud.

“Well… I don’t know either. Perhaps you should ask Master. Yesterday, she instructed me to take you to the pill room. The appointed time is near—let’s go now.” Pear Moon sipped the broth from her chopsticks, set down her bowl and utensils, and led Qin Chuan to the pill chamber.

When they arrived at the alchemy room, not a sound could be heard from within. They waited a while, and when the appointed time had passed, Qin Chuan was about to knock when the door opened of its own accord. He chuckled awkwardly, hastily withdrawing his outstretched hand.

Pear Moon laughed softly behind him, her beauty radiant, as if the clouds had parted.

Qin Chuan took no offense and entered. The pill furnaces inside were smaller than those in the main hall, but far more refined, clearly intended for alchemy, not decoration. Three furnaces stood, all green, the smallest barely waist-high, the largest as tall as a man.

As soon as he entered, a wave of scorching air greeted him, tousling his hair. Clearly, Master Su had just finished alchemy.

Several pine oil lamps lit the pill chamber as bright as day. The three-legged furnaces stood in a triangular formation, twelve cushions arranged evenly around.

Master Su had just finished, her cheeks flushed and a few locks of hair loose about her neck. She opened her eyes slowly, a hint of solemnity in her look. “Today, I was to take you to the Ancestral Hall to pay respects to our forebears, but your cultivation method is not yet chosen. I fear that if you enter the hall preoccupied with such matters, you might offend the spirits. Therefore, I have brought forward the selection of your cultivation method.”

“Master, how should I choose my method?” Qin Chuan sensed from her tone that the choice was his to make, not to be dictated.

“The secret lies within these three furnaces. Investigate, and you will understand.” Master Su’s words were always half-veiled, inscrutable, but at least she offered a clue. “Remember, from this moment, you have only three hours. If you exceed that, you will not only lose all progress, but your very life will be at risk!” With that, she closed her eyes again, silent as a statue.

Qin Chuan knew three hours would pass in a blink. Glancing at the incense burning in front of him, he made up his mind. He stepped forward and first examined the smallest, lowest furnace.