Chapter 26: A First Glimpse (1)

Liu Lanzhi pondered silently to herself. No wonder so many people favored disciples with exceptional aptitude, refusing to pass down their legacy to those less gifted. It seemed there was indeed reason behind such a practice. If one were burdened with a group of disciples like Che Wuyou, it would surely exhaust or infuriate any master to death.

Yet Liu Lanzhi still could not understand why her master held Che Wuyou in such high regard. Not only did he praise Che Wuyou’s talent before his wife, but he even intended to impart the treasured “Compendium of Hundred Herbs” to him. One must know that out of hundreds of disciples, only ten qualified to study the Compendium. Could it be that the master had misjudged?

As the morning slipped away, Liu Lanzhi, weary in both body and spirit, could only instruct Che Wuyou to return at noon for sword practice.

Che Wuyou’s comprehension of swordsmanship was equally poor, but after the morning’s recitation ordeal, Liu Lanzhi was no longer surprised. Compared to her own effortless movements, graceful as a swimming dragon, Che Wuyou’s attempts were clumsy and strenuous. Still, it was better than the morning’s embarrassment; he could at least imitate her form, albeit barely.

Liu Lanzhi watched, shaking her head inwardly, but said nothing more. She was truly exhausted—emotionally drained. It turned out that being a teacher was a taxing affair.

Yet her suspicions only deepened. From Che Wuyou’s performance, it was clear he was not cut out for the path of cultivation. Perhaps her master was indeed losing his judgment, entrusting her to teach the Compendium to such a person—wasting her effort and dishonoring the precious secret art.

Watching Che Wuyou practice swordsmanship was pure torment. Just as Liu Lanzhi was about to complain to Miao Shilin, resolved never to teach such a dull disciple again, the afternoon’s lesson on medicinal pills surprised her. Che Wuyou suddenly displayed extraordinary skill.

Though he remained awkward when memorizing formulas and identifying herbs, his talent for concocting pills and controlling the heat was astonishing—he could almost be called a genius in this field. Even Liu Lanzhi, excellent as she was, had to admit that while Che Wuyou’s ability was still far from hers, it surpassed that of most others by a wide margin.

She couldn’t help but wonder what caused such disparity in his abilities. Perhaps it was what her master called “second-grade spiritual power”? It seemed this “gifted disciple” did possess remarkable qualities, not entirely worthless as she had thought.

Days passed, then months, and soon another year had gone by. Throughout this year, Che Wuyou was constantly busy. Each morning, he drank a bowl of mysterious green herbal soup and hurried to practice the Hundred Herbs Technique. At noon, he toiled over swordsmanship, never daring to slacken, and in the afternoon, he devoted himself entirely to studying medicine and alchemy, careful not to make the slightest mistake, for any error would waste an entire batch and force him to start anew.

Beyond his training, Che Wuyou also performed menial tasks: assisting senior disciples in collecting supplies, picking herbs, guarding the alchemy furnace, and so on.

Because of these circumstances, Che Wuyou’s status gradually became unique. He couldn’t be called a master, for he did the work of a servant; yet he was treated as a formal disciple of Miao Shilin, training alongside Liu Lanzhi, a key figure of the Miao family.

Such an individual was looked down upon not only by the servants—who had once been his peers, some even his superiors—but also by the official disciples of Miao Shilin. The servants’ disdain was understandable; Che Wuyou had once been the lowest among them. Though he had soared to a new position, he was hardly a phoenix, so they saw no reason to respect him.

The direct disciples of Miao Shilin were shocked to see Che Wuyou training alongside Liu Lanzhi. Many went to question Miao Shilin, but he remained indifferent, neither explaining nor acknowledging the matter, as though it had nothing to do with him.

Many disciples suspected Miao Shilin intended to accept Che Wuyou as a student, and were furious. Yet as time passed without any such announcement, they relaxed. After all, many were close to Miao Zongbao, and could not accept the idea of becoming fellow disciples with his enemy.

With Che Wuyou’s change in status, he was bullied less, but gossip and reproach behind his back only increased. Some, however, continued to treat him as before—among them well-known disciples like Han Feng and Yang Jian, who remained nonchalant and unrestrained.

As for Che Wuyou’s cultivation, whether due to the obscurity of the Hundred Herbs Technique or his own limited talent, his understanding remained superficial and uncertain. Sometimes even Liu Lanzhi was surprised; most people at the Qi Refinement stage struggled with the elusive sensation of “Qi,” and she assumed Che Wuyou was similarly unable to grasp it, thus unable to comprehend the technique.

Yet, in truth, Che Wuyou’s grasp of Qi was precise—so much so that Liu Lanzhi considered him a “prodigy.” Where then was the problem? Was it in absorbing the vital energy of heaven and earth, refining his meridians, transforming the elemental energy, or strengthening the dantian? Neither Liu Lanzhi nor Miao Shilin could pinpoint the obstacle.

Watching Che Wuyou’s progress crawl at a snail’s pace, Liu Lanzhi lost all confidence in him. Sometimes, seeing him train so diligently to no effect, she felt an impulse to advise him to abandon cultivation altogether, for this path was simply not suited to him.

But she never voiced this thought. If she did, it would extinguish Che Wuyou’s motivation. If he truly gave up cultivation, what would become of him? Would he spend his life being humiliated in the Miao family, forever a menial, forever a servant?

Che Wuyou’s talent in swordsmanship was slightly better than in the Hundred Herbs Technique, but progress was still limited. His ability was poor, and there were no skilled swordmasters in the Miao family to guide him. Despite his efforts, his swordplay remained awkward and unrefined.

Yet, it must be mentioned, Che Wuyou’s talent in alchemy was exceptional, advancing with remarkable speed. This was due not only to his aptitude but also to his tireless diligence. Knowing his own limits, he often studied herbal names and formulas late into the night, sometimes until dawn.

Sometimes, to memorize a formula, he would recite it repeatedly, never ceasing even when dizzy or sleepless. He was like a man possessed, obsessively chanting. When sleep overcame him, he would take a stimulating pill—and if one didn’t suffice, he’d take two, three, even four.

Once, Che Wuyou, in order to memorize a chapter on medicinal properties, swallowed a handful of stimulating pills. Liu Lanzhi happened to witness this scene, her face turning pale with shock, and she harshly scolded him, explaining in detail the dangers of excessive use.

Che Wuyou was well aware of the risks. He had studied the pill chapter for an entire year; the first pill he encountered was the stimulating pill, whose effects and hazards he knew intimately. The pill could sharpen the mind and reduce sleep, but prolonged use would damage the spirit irreversibly, causing stagnation in cultivation. Excessive doses could even lead to death or insanity.

Yet Che Wuyou had no choice. He lacked time and seized every moment he could. To save time, he frequently used stimulating pills, sacrificing rest for constant study and practice. In the end, his efforts paid off. Over the course of a year, he laid a solid foundation in alchemy.

However, Che Wuyou did not know that while others might suffer severe aftereffects from overusing stimulating pills—such as stagnation in cultivation—these problems would not afflict him. His spiritual power was simply too strong. Second-grade spiritual power was rare even in all of Jizhou; how could mere pills affect him?

As Che Wuyou’s talent in alchemy began to show, some senior disciples occasionally asked him to help prepare medicines. At first, they were merely lazy and curious, but after several trials, they found Che Wuyou’s work surprisingly competent. Though his technique was immature, his control of the heat was uniquely advantageous.

For some lower-grade medicines, Che Wuyou’s ability in refining was not inferior to the senior disciples, sometimes even producing pills of slightly higher quality. As for higher-grade medicines, he was naturally unable to manage them, given his limited experience. Still, to have reached this level within a year was a testament to his remarkable talent.