Chapter 79: Elder Qu
Chapter 79: Elder Qu
“Run?”
Fang Cun froze for a second. I just took a grape. Why run?
And why’s that girl running? Fine, run if you must—but why shove the whole plate of grapes into my arms?
“Ah! Quick, run…”
He Zhenzhang didn’t have time to explain. Pulling Fang Cun’s sleeve, he urgently whispered, “Elder Qu has only this one granddaughter! She’s his treasure…”
Before he even finished, an angry roar erupted: “Who dared bully my precious granddaughter?!”
Out of the thatched hut burst an enraged old man clutching a small alchemy cauldron. Like a stormy thundercloud, his eyes burned fiery slits. Spotting He Zhenzhang, he bellowed: “You again, you rascal? Not bashing your head open today means I wasted my whole life with cauldrons!”
Swinging the cauldron, he lunged at He Zhenzhang’s skull.
He Zhenzhang, stiff with terror, jabbed a finger: “Not me—him!”
The old man paused, angrier still: “Teaming up to bully my girl?”
He swung the cauldron toward Fang Cun instead. But a slender figure, the girl who’d darted into the hut, rushed out and wrapped both arms around his. “No! No, he didn’t…”
“Don’t stop me! I won’t lose!” the old man raged. “If he didn’t bully you, how’d the grapes get in his hands? Grabbing my granddaughter’s grapes—”
“No, no…”
The girl tugged his arm, voice so soft it might not frighten a mosquito. Seeing her grandfather wouldn’t listen, tears pricked her eyes. Suddenly, her voice strained: “He didn’t offend me… I gave them to him.” Flushing crimson, she stomped back into the hut.
“You… gave them to him?”
“Why’d you give him grapes?”
“Ah, darling, don’t be angry…”
Panicked now, the old man chased after her into the hut, coaxing and murmuring apologies.
Left outside, He Zhenzhang mopped his forehead. “That was too close…”
“What’s so scary?” Fang Cun popped another grape. “She’s rather cute…”
“You’re still eating?” He Zhenzhang sighed, eyeing the hut. He subtly edged away from Fang Cun.
“Inside. Both of you!”
A commanding voice boomed from the hut. He Zhenzhang glanced questioningly at Fang Cun. Smiling, Fang Cun gave a reassuring pat and entered. The single room held only a table and two chairs. Fang Cun sat down, placed the dish on the table, and inclined his head respectfully. “Greetings, Elder.”
Opposite him, the cauldron-wielding Elder Qu now sat stone-faced, the cauldron still resting beside him. His cold gaze fixed on Fang Cun… then flicked to the grape dish. Visibly irritated, he glared at He Zhenzhang. He Zhenzhang mentally protested—He’s the one eating them!
“Why are you two here?” The Elder’s voice was clipped.
Bowing quickly, He Zhenzhang replied, “Respects, Elder Qu. I deeply admire your alchemy skills and respectfully sought a few Qi-Refining Pills. This is my Academy classmate, Second Young Master Fang of the Fang Family… Fang Cun.”
Fang Cun stood and bowed again before sitting.
“Fang Cun?” The Elder blinked. “From the Fang Family… by Willow Lake City?”
“Indeed.” Fang Cun smiled. “Academy Disciple Fang Cun, of the Willow Lake City Fang Family.”
Whoosh.
The curtain dividing the room stirred faintly.
The Elder pretended not to hear, though the revelation clearly startled him. He studied Fang Cun intently, then formed a fist-palm salute toward the heavens. “Your brother was a remarkable man. His death… was undeserved.”
Since his brother’s passing, Fang Cun had endured countless condolences—earnest or hollow, elaborate or plain. Yet none echoed the stark, blunt honesty now before him. That rawness cut through, leaving a lingering spark of truth. Fang Cun offered a solemn salute in turn. “My thanks for your words, Elder.”
The Elder waved off the formality. After a pause, he turned to He Zhenzhang: “I remember you. Last time, buying pills, troubling my granddaughter. Still bitter you outran me without broken legs…”
He Zhenzhang almost groaned aloud. Swear to heavens—all I did was ask her name!
“Today, for Second Young Master Fang’s sake… a pass.” The Elder grunted. “But buying my pills—my rules stand. Being the Great Xia Immortal Master’s brother earns no exception.”
“Rules?” Fang Cun smiled inwardly. Only rule I know is: pay, take pills…
He Zhenzhang sighed. “What… might the rules be?”
The Elder snorted. “My pills? Either given for free… or not sold for any price.”
Lies! He sold me one for three hundred taels last time! Thought He Zhenzhang miserably. He dared not argue.
Fang Cun, amused, asked: “How do such rules work?”
The Elder jutted his chin. “Simple. Recognizes the pill? Pays nothing. Blind to its worth? Pay mountains of gold—still won’t sell.”
He Zhenzhang’s face crumpled. Disaster… The Young Master came for nothing.
This Old Alchemist—temper like… well… a bad pill. No wonder he lives in a hut.
Fang Cun’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Intriguing, Elder. Please enlighten us?”
“Bring them!”
No movement came from behind the curtain.
Eyebrows raised, the Elder repeated louder: “Bring them over!”
The curtain finally stirred. The slender, gentle-featured girl emerged carrying a pill casket, still blushing pink. Avoiding all eyes, she placed the box before Fang Cun. Glancing up inadvertently—and catching his smile—her blush burned hotter, like she’d been shocked. Retreating fast as a sparrow, she vanished back behind the curtain.
The Elder scowled at Fang Cun. Before he could speak, the curtain fluttered again. The girl returned—this time bearing a cup of tea—placed beside Fang Cun, then fled instantly.
He Zhenzhang watched her disappear, bewildered: “What about mine?”
Sniffing the air, the Elder froze. “My… best Maofeng?” he choked out horrified.
As He Zhenzhang eyed the tea mournfully and the Elder his prized leaves, Fang Cun took a slow sip, grimaced lightly, and set the cup aside. He flipped the lid open. Several compartments inside, each holding a pill on soft silk. All varied in size, shimmer, fragrance—even the veins twisting through them looked unique.
The Elder watched, thinking: That grimace?! My exquisite tea… not good enough?!
Fang Cun, ignoring him, delicately lifted one pill, studied it, then plucked another. “Forgive my confusion, Elder,” he smiled mildly. “Aren’t these all Qi-Refining Pills? How does knowing one from another matter?”
He Zhenzhang anxiously nudged Fang Cun’s chair. Careful!
The Elder merely eyed Fang Cun coldly. “You came seeking Qi-Refining Pills. What you see are Qi-Refining Pills. But just sharing that name makes them equal? The world teems with ‘people.’ Some are noble Immortal Masters like Fang Chi… others are vermin scurrying through muddy alleys. Are they the same?”
“Oh?” Fang Cun straightened slightly. This held weight.
Nodding acknowledgment, he focused intensely on the pills. The ‘Herbal Canon’ taught a chapter on alchemy. Mastered by rote, it granted Fang Cun an intuitive grasp of plants and medicines that bordered on genius. It opened pathways to all plant-related arts. While inexperienced in actual pill-forging, the roots of assessing ingredients remained firm.
And these pills? They weren’t some arbitrary trick. By scent, gleam, texture—these were, undeniably, authentic Qi-Refining Pills. Standard recipe. Yet… each held one subtle difference—added ingredients deviating subtly from the pure formula. These variances caused the dramatic uniqueness.
Fang Cun silently discerned most added herbs…
But he didn’t speak immediately. Deliberate pause.
Should he just list them?
No. That demanded ordinary focus at best. Not enough proof of mastery.
His purpose wasn’t mere pills. He needed insight from the old scholar. Real alchemical treasures.
How would… those grand figures learned in ancient tales have handled this?
Fang Cun’s mind flickered rapidly—hero council strategists, famed beauties, revolutionary outlaws—legendary speechcraft patterns stacking insight upon insight…
Song Jiang… Sun Wukong… Zhuge Liang…
Daiyu… Li Kui… Guevara…
…
The approach coalesced: PUA him.
Channeling their essence, Fang Cun let silence build. A faint, contemplative sigh escaped him at last. “These pills…” he murmured with scholarly distance,… “They’re rather ordinary…”