Chương 19: I Have Outdone Myself Today!

Xiao Xuan entered his room and pushed the heavy wooden door shut. The metallic sliding of the latch echoed loudly in the quiet space. He reached into his robes, pulling out the plain blue Falcon Dash scroll he had just acquired from the Clan Treasury. He retrieved the silver storage ring he had carefully hidden away in his racks. With a subtle pulse of his newly awakened Qi, he activated his storage ring. The space around the dull silver band rippled, and the scroll vanished into the dimensional void.

He let out a satisfied breath. Now that the entire Su Clan had witnessed his cultivation, wearing a spatial ring openly wouldn't be a problem. With another thought, the air rippled again. A small mountain of items materialized, clattering onto his sturdy wooden table. First came a mid-sized bronze cauldron. It was cheap, slightly asymmetrical, and bore faint scorch marks. Next came a bundled scroll, the beginner's guide to pill refinement.

Finally, a dozen small, wooden lockboxes appeared, popping open to reveal a vibrant array of raw, unrefined herbs. Instantly, the stagnant air of the bedroom was replaced by a heavy, intoxicating aroma. It was a chaotic blend of sharp peppermint, damp earth, and something uniquely sweet that smelled faintly of scorched honey. Xiao Xuan pulled up a wooden stool and sat down. He rested his elbows on his knees as he stared at the ingredients.

The generous allowance of ten thousand silver coins that Su Luoyang had originally provided him was gone. Between the cost of the storage ring, the low-tier cauldron, and these specific herbs, he was down to exactly four hundred and fifty silver coins. He unrolled the beginner's scroll. The text detailed the standard procedure for crafting a Tier 1 Basic Healing Powder.

It was the lowest grade of medicine recognized in the cultivation world, often used by mortal mercenaries and fresh Qi Tu (Qi Disciple) rank cultivators to clot minor wounds. It was cheap, common, and fundamentally useless for a high-stakes auction. Xiao Xuan picked up a sprig of Crimson Blood-Clotting Grass, turning its serrated, ruby-colored leaves between his fingers. Next to it lay a pale, chalky root known as White-Bone Stem, and a small vial of Clear Water Sap.

He picked up a brittle piece of silver-colored bark and a small, faintly glowing blue petal from his pile. He recalled the exact temperatures required and the precise timing of the ingredient fusion. He closed his eyes and breathed in, feeling the ambient, gaseous Qi of the room. He drew upon the small reservoir of refined Qi inside his dantian. He channeled it steadily through his arms, pushing it through his palms and into the arrays carved into the base of the cauldron.

A flickering orange flame sparked to life at the bottom of the bronze chamber. The flame wavered at first, but as Xiao Xuan tightened his mental focus, he regulated the flow of his Qi flawlessly. The flame steadied into a concentrated spike of heat. The bronze walls of the cauldron began to radiate an intense, shimmering wave. Xiao Xuan picked up the Crimson Blood-Clotting Grass and dropped it into the pot. The moment the grass hit the flame, it sizzled violently. The serrated leaves curled and blackened.

Sweat instantly beaded on Xiao Xuan's forehead. He deployed threads of his internal Qi to act like an invisible pair of tweezers. He seized the cellular structure of the grass with his energy, gently vibrating it. He tore the medicinal essence away from the plant fiber while the flame provided the necessary thermal shock. The grass dissolved with a crack, leaving behind a hovering, thumb-sized sphere of boiling red mist. He tossed in the chalky White-Bone Stem.

Xiao Xuan pushed his meager Qi reserves, flaring the flame. He wrapped his internal energy around the dense root, using the Qi pressure to crush it into dust mid-air so the fire could melt it down instantly. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. A white, milky mist rose, hovering just beside the red mist. His chest heaved. His internal Qi drained rapidly as he maintained the flame and manipulated the herbs.

He carefully guided the red and white mists together using his Qi threads. They repelled each other instantly, hissing and spitting tiny sparks of chaotic energy against the bronze walls. Xiao Xuan gritted his teeth, a thick vein throbbing at his temple. He forcefully clamped his refined Qi around the two mists, physically crushing them together. He added the Clear Water Sap, using the liquid to coat the volatile mixture and force a temporary stabilization.

The mists fused, dropping to the bottom of the cauldron as a pile of coarse, pinkish powder. He cut the Qi flow, and the flame vanished. Xiao Xuan slumped forward, catching his weight on his hands as he panted heavily. He looked down into the cauldron. A small pile of Tier 1 Basic Healing Powder sat at the bottom, emitting a faint, clean metallic scent. He wiped the stinging sweat from his eyes. That single basic batch had taken an hour and drained eighty percent of his total Qi.

He safely stored the powder inside a glass vial and tucked it inside his ring. He crawled over to his bed, pulling himself up into a lotus position. For two straight hours, the room was completely silent except for the rhythmic sound of his breathing. When he finally opened his eyes, the sun had set outside, casting long, dark shadows across his chamber. Back on Earth, he had translated over three hundred chapters of a particularly famous web novel.

The author of that novel had been obsessively detailed, lifting ancient Chinese medicinal theories and twisting them into a Xianxia magic system. The herbs sitting on his table right now were an exact, one-to-one match to the flora described in that story. In that novel, the standard Tier 1 Healing Powder was described as a flawed, incomplete recipe created by lazy modern cultivators. The protagonist had realized that by introducing two specific catalyst herbs, the coarse powder could be compressed further.

The ash would be purified out, transforming the powder into a dense, highly concentrated liquid elixir. It was a theoretical Tier 3 equivalent that could fetch a massive sum. He didn't just remember the gist of the recipe; he remembered every single keystroke, every translated syllable, the exact temperatures required, and the precise timing of the ingredient fusion.

He prepared the ingredients for the advanced recipe: Crimson Blood-Clotting Grass, White-Bone Stem, Clear Water Sap, a piece of Silver-Thread Bark to bind the conflicting energies, and a single petal of Moonlit Ash Flower to act as a cooling agent. He placed his hands on the bronze handles. The flame flared to life once more, steadier this time. He threw the Crimson Grass and the White-Bone Stem in simultaneously. The cauldron roared as the conflicting energies of the two base herbs clashed violently.

His Qi formed a vice grip, crushing the materials into mist within seconds. He added the Clear Water Sap, forcing the pink powder to form. He didn't stop the flame. He pushed his remaining Qi harder, the needle of fire expanding into a small, intense vortex. He threw in the piece of Silver-Thread Bark. The moment the bark touched the flame, it reacted like a firecracker. Tiny, silver needles of pure energy shot outward, pinging against the inside of the bronze cauldron with sharp, metallic clangs.

The pink powder at the bottom began to destabilize, cracking and turning a sickly grey. Xiao Xuan's eyes snapped wide open, his pupils dilating. He threw his Qi like a dense net over the exploding silver bark, catching the volatile energy spikes before they could shred the medicinal powder. A thin trickle of blood slowly leaked from his left nostril, trailing down to his lip. The metallic taste of copper flooded his mouth.

He compressed the chaotic silver energy, grinding it down, forcing it to bleed into the pink powder. The powder began to liquify, turning into a bubbling, volatile, deep red paste. Rumble. The bronze was beginning to glow a dull, dangerous cherry-red. His Qi was depleted. With a trembling hand, he picked up the single blue petal of the Moonlit Ash Flower. He dropped it directly into the center of the boiling red paste. A wave of freezing cold erupted from the petal, colliding with the intense heat of the flame.

Thick, white steam billowed out of the cauldron, obscuring his vision. The conflicting extremes created a pressure vacuum inside the cheap bronze pot. The metal began to groan, hairline fractures spreading across the outer surface. Using the last remaining bits of his Qi, he grabbed the freezing energy of the blue petal and the red paste. He forced the two opposing forces to overlap. The groaning of the metal stopped. The steam instantly dissipated. Thud.

Xiao Xuan collapsed backward, his spine hitting the hard stone floor with a dull thud. His chest heaved erratically, his body soaked in cold sweat. His hands were trembling. For ten minutes, he simply lay there in the dark, listening to the frantic beating of his own heart. Slowly, painfully, he rolled over onto his side and dragged himself up to the edge of the cauldron and peered into it. Lying at the center of the scorched bronze bowl was a small puddle of liquid.

It was a smooth, slightly viscous liquid that shimmered with a mesmerizing, translucent crimson glow. The heavy, chaotic smells of earth and peppermint had vanished, replaced by a clean scent. He pulled out three small, pristine glass vials from his ring. With a gentle, exhausted nudge of his Qi, he lifted the crimson liquid from the cauldron, dividing it equally and guiding it into the vials. He popped the corks in, sealing the mesmerizing glow inside.

He held one of the vials up to the moonlight filtering through his window. The thick liquid slowly slid down the glass, heavy and rich. Xiao Xuan let out a raspy, exhausted chuckle, wiping the dried blood from his upper lip. I have outdone myself today! He carefully tucked the vials securely into his storage ring and let himself fall flat onto the floor, closing his eyes.