Chapter 51: The First to Form the Core

Beside Che Wuyou, a clean tray displayed twenty-one kinds of medicinal herbs, each arranged meticulously. These herbs were all essential for refining the Beneficence Pill. Though their number seemed vast, they were only sufficient to produce a single pill. Che Wuyou scrutinized the appearance, age, and quality of each ingredient. Only after he had thoroughly understood every detail did he begin to prepare for the alchemical process.

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, adjusting his state to its peak. Now was the time to add the herbs, and the sequence was of utmost importance.

“Hm, morning glory is cold in nature and cannot withstand high temperatures. This stalk of morning glory should be added last,” he mused. He picked up a jet-black herb beside him. “Skybeard root, highly resistant to fire, must be simmered over martial flames to melt—it should go in first.”

Che Wuyou dropped the skybeard root into the center of the cauldron, the hottest part within. It was the perfect position for it. He closed the cauldron lid and carefully adjusted the flame dial, waiting patiently for the skybeard root to soften. Only then did he open the lid again to add the next ingredient.

He meticulously monitored the temperature, using all his senses to attune to the changes within the cauldron. Suddenly, a burnt smell wafted into his nostrils, and his face darkened. He had been so cautious—how could he have failed?

Just as Che Wuyou was filled with doubt, a grumbling voice rang out, “Damn this wretched cauldron! The temperature control is so sensitive. I only increased it a little, and everything’s burned to a crisp...”

It turned out to be a fellow competitor next to him who had failed in his alchemy. Watching the forlorn figure leave, Che Wuyou secretly wiped a cold sweat from his brow—he’d thought he had failed himself. He had been completely focused on sensing the changes in his own cauldron, with nothing seeming amiss. It must have been the proximity of his neighbor that misled him.

Time passed slowly; half a stick of incense had burned away. Now, the “puff, puff, puff” of ingredients burning to ash echoed around the field—a cacophony born of overheated cauldrons. Che Wuyou glanced around at the disheartened faces and the half-emptied arena, feeling his own tension rise.

Alchemy was a task of utmost mental strain, an ordeal for most. When the cauldron was sealed and one had to rely solely on intuition to sense the transformations within, many inexperienced practitioners could not help but feel anxious.

What was truly happening inside? Was the pill almost formed? Many, lacking experience, constantly worried the fire was insufficient, missing the optimal moments for fusion and so kept increasing the heat—ultimately burning their ingredients to ash and failing.

Others, by contrast, feared the flames too fierce and kept the temperature too low. Their excessive caution led them to miss the auspicious moment for pill formation, letting the essence of the herbs dissipate in vain, and they too ended in failure.

Time flew by—the incense used for timing was now down to a third, and the figures still at work in the arena grew sparse. A third of the time remained before the first elimination round ended, yet four-fifths of the participants had already been eliminated.

Just then, a faint whiff of pill fragrance drifted from an unknown corner. Even those watching below seemed to notice, some sniffing the air in delight. Such a lovely scent—was a pill about to be formed? But there was still time left; who was in such a hurry? Did they not fear failure? Who couldn’t resist and was about to finish first?

Amid the murmurs of the crowd, a figure cloaked in black atop the arena suddenly moved. She glanced disdainfully at those still struggling in their alchemy, then let out a series of lilting laughs. In the midst of her laughter, she flung open her cauldron.

A misty vapor swirled as a pill the size of an eyeball shone with a captivating brilliance, bobbing up and down inside the cauldron. Instantly, a sweet, rich fragrance spread in all directions. A Lower Yellow-Rank Beneficence Pill—success!

Who was she? She belonged neither to the Herb Garden Guild nor the Miao Family Manor, yet she had completed her pill so dominantly. The crowd quickly looked to the small flag by her cauldron: the name “Lu Mengjie” was written boldly upon it. “Lu Mengjie?” they wondered. “Never heard of her—is she the dark horse of this competition?” Excitement sparked in their eyes. If the champion belonged to neither the Miao Family nor the Herb Garden Guild, things would become very interesting indeed.

“Could it be the Lu Mengjie who was called the Charming Immortal Healer in Ji Province a century ago?” someone in the crowd whispered. While many didn’t know her, some of the older alchemists recognized her name. Yet even they were puzzled—she had vanished from the world for nearly a hundred years, so why did she appear suddenly now? Was she here for the lower-grade treasure? But how could that be?

The Xuanyin Sect, responsible for collecting the completed Beneficence Pills, took the pill from Lu Mengjie and delivered it to the examiners. After careful scrutiny, the veteran appraisers all nodded in agreement. “A Lower Yellow-Rank Beneficence Pill, of first-class quality.”

The crowd erupted in astonishment. Not only had she finished first—a feat that demanded exquisite control over the flames—but her pill was also of the highest grade. Truly a formidable master, and indeed the dark horse of the competition.

Lu Mengjie seemed to have expected this result. She showed no reaction, only fixing her gaze on the Herb Garden Guild’s direction and proclaiming loudly, “Old Whitehead! Even though you did not compete this time, I’ll have your disciples fall at my feet one by one. The so-called Ten Sages of the Herb Garden mean nothing to me—utter nonsense! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!” Her deranged laughter echoed through the arena.

The crowd was dumbfounded. The Herb Garden Guild had come to challenge the Miao Family, yet now someone had come to challenge the Herb Garden Guild as well. Everyone glanced at Old Whitehead’s darkening expression, feeling even more excitement. So the Charming Immortal Healer and Old Whitehead had a past grudge—things were getting more complex and interesting by the moment.

Lu Mengjie’s breakthrough seemed to spur the others on. One after another, pills were completed throughout the arena. Next came Ge’ermu, the leader of the Ten Sages of the Herb Garden, but his pill was only of second-class quality, leaving him visibly displeased.

The third to succeed was Liu Lanzhi from the Miao Family Manor. Though her pill was also of second-class quality, the result astonished many. She was so young—youth usually meant inexperience and lower skill, or so most believed. Yet she had surpassed expectations, though only her fellow clan members remained unmoved. To them, her achievement was expected—they even believed she could do better.

After Liu Lanzhi, the Miao Family placed their hopes on Han Feng. But just as everyone thought Han Feng would be next, the second, third, fourth, and fifth-ranked Sages of the Herb Garden all finished in succession, one after another. Then came a rogue cultivator from Ji Province, who called himself Nameless, and only after him did Han Feng complete his pill.

The Herb Garden Guild lived up to its reputation as the dominant force in Ji Province alchemy. Except for the surprise from Lu Mengjie, their disciples all performed outstandingly, completing their Beneficence Pills one after another. The Miao Family also stood out, but compared to the Herb Garden Guild, they were still a step behind.

Time continued to slip away—less than a fifth of the incense remained. Now, only two people were left refining their pills: Che Wuyou of the Miao Family Manor and, surprisingly, the tenth-ranked Sage of the Herb Garden.

How fascinating—the leaders were from these two factions, and so were those left at the bottom.

Han Feng, having lost his chance to shine, was bitterly resentful. He glared at Che Wuyou on the field and sneered, “I told you not to let that brat embarrass us. Now look—he’s become the focus of the entire arena... If you lack ability, you should’ve failed early and left with some dignity. But no, he just had to dawdle until the very end, making himself the center of attention, only to announce his failure to everyone. What a fool.”

“Hmph, and how do you know he’ll fail? Maybe he’ll succeed. It’s not as if you’ve done any better; all you do is criticize others,” Liu Lanzhi retorted, scornful. Now was the time for unity—she couldn’t fathom why Han Feng would pour cold water on his own side.

“Enough—just watch. There’s still a Herb Garden disciple in the running with him; perhaps things will change,” Yang Jian cut in before they could argue further. Though he too had little hope for Che Wuyou—so much time had passed that the best opportunity for pill formation had likely slipped away—he still tried to console them.