Chapter 88: Refining the Treasure Pill

“Who dares bully my grand…”

“…Huh? Oh, it’s Second Young Master Fang…”

Fang Cun watched the steam puffing noisily from the kettle, looking helpless. Then, he heard a clatter from the thatched hut. Elder Qu scrambled out angrily, clutching an alchemy cauldron. But seeing Fang Cun, the rage vanished instantly from his face, replaced by a smile. He tossed the cauldron aside, clasped his hands respectfully, and hurried forward.

“Greetings, Elder Qu…”

Fang Cun leapt down from the carriage with a laugh. Turning around, Xiao Qingliu handed him two jars and one box.

The old man frowned. “Why bring trinkets like those fools?”

Holding up the items, Fang Cun grinned. “These two jars are the finest Jade Dew Wine, brewed from water drawn from that ancient well. They’ve aged three hundred years, unopened. And this box? Top-quality Rain-Whisk Tea from Misty Cloud Peak. Hand-plucked by maidens…”

“What?”

People passing nearby gaped, eyes wide.

He Zhenzhang’s heart skipped a beat. “Good heavens! Such extravagance…”

Under all stares, Elder Qu’s expression instantly became blank. “Bring them in. Sit.”

“Ah no, I’m just here to ask a favor. If it’s inconvenient, I’ll visit elsewhere!”

Fang Cun smiled as he placed the tea and wine on a small wooden table before the hut. He bowed to Elder Qu. “My family’s patriarch turns a great age soon. As his son, I must show filial devotion. But he has seen treasures aplenty—rare jewels, divine wines. Small gifts can’t please him anymore. So I’ve come seeking your wisdom. I wish for you to gather precious herbs and forge a Treasure Pill to extend his life. Would you accept?”

“A Treasure Pill?”

Many curious ears strained within the crowd.

“A Treasure Pill?”

Elder Qu paused. Though separated by just one word from a Spirit Pill, Treasure Pills meant unmatched potency, worth, and difficulty. Most alchemists dared not attempt them—some couldn’t even if they tried. But Elder Qu brushed aside such worries. “But the master of Fang Family… he’s no Qi Refiner, is he?”

Pills belonged to four ranks: Spirit, Treasure, Divine, and Immortal. Each carried different powers.

Only Qi Refiners who’d refined a Treasure Body could withstand their might. Mortals tasting Treasure or Divine Pills would see their flesh rupture, dying faster than poison. Even Qi Refiners beneath the Treasure Body state risked torment from such pills.

Faced with Elder Qu’s doubt, Fang Cun flourished his sleeves, laughing. “Though my father doesn’t cultivate, he enjoys life far better than Qi Refiners! If forging pills for him, let them be the greatest kind! As for potency? Many methods soften it—steep it in wine, breathe its fumes as incense. Such ways too grant longevity!”

“Using Treasure Pills… as wine and incense? Truly… wasteful!”

Beside them, He Zhenzhang stood struck dumb, eyeing Fang Cun strangely.

True, steeping Treasure Pills in wine or burning them as incense could make them safe for mortals. But pills meant sealing potency. To deliberately waste it? Wasn’t that utter folly? Whether dissolved in wine or cast as smoke, it scattered ninety-nine parts potency—savoring one.

Such thoughts swirling, He Zhenzhang shot Elder Qu a worried glance.

Some alchemists cared only for forging, leaving pill fate to others. But some cherished each work as art. Elder Qu valued pride and might bristle seeing his pills squandered.

Considering his temper… could this ever happen?

“So that’s it…”

To He Zhenzhang’s shock, Elder Qu simply nodded thoughtfully upon hearing Fang Cun’s words. “For anyone else, I’d kick him out. But this pill’s for Immortal Master Fang Chi’s father… that changes matters. Don’t squander what I forge. I’ll teach you a method to dilute it safely.”

He Zhenzhang’s mouth fell open. Helplessly, he shut it.

People… differ too much.

Fang Cun himself felt surprised. He bowed again, deeper this time. “Then… my gratitude.”

Motionless, Elder Qu waved aside the thanks. “When?”

Fang Cun paused. “In… three days?”

“Hmm…”

Elder Qu murmured assent before seeming troubled. His brow creased.

Spotting this, Fang Cun swiftly asked, “What troubles you?”

Elder Qu waved urgently. “None! None at all…”

Still, his worry deepened.

Both He Zhenzhang and Fang Cun sensed it—one puzzled, one waiting. Yet the elder refused to speak. Just then, a girl timidly lifted the hut’s curtain. Flushed scarlet, she shuffled toward Fang Cun, legs weakly. With deepest red cheeks, she curtsied, whispering, “S-second Young Master Fang…”

Fang Cun smiled warmly. “What is it, Miss Qu?”

Stifling the urge to flee, she pressed a fiercely pounding heart. Her voice was faint as a trapped fly’s: “You asked… Grandfather to forge pill… very grateful. But… forging Treasures Pills needs… rare herbs. Willow Lake City… can’t provide all soon. Getting them… is hard.”

Though brief, each word choked out, her head nearly dropping to Fang Cun’s chest.

“Aha…”

Both Fang Cun and He Zhenzhang understood at once.

The girl dared not say outright; Elder Qu worse. Truth lay simple: Materials for Treasure Pills counted as exotic treasures, scarce and costly. Any single herb demanded tens of thousands in silver—or Dragon Stones. Elder Qu’s humble state… how afford advance payment?

“Heh, Miss, fear not. Short in Willow Lake? Then buy from Qingjiang Prefecture!”

Fang Cun beamed. “Honored Elder Qu would forge it—fortune enough! Why task him with herb gathering? Name any needed treasure herbal. I’ll have them fetched from Qingjiang via… escorts!”

Hearing this, He Zhenzhang felt sudden dread.

Subtly scanning the scene, he counted listeners. He pushed Fang Cun aside, whispering fast: “This is the Night Market! Careful what you say! Eavesdroppers abound!”

Even Elder Qu urged softly, “Enter the hut to speak!”

“So cautious? Over mere herbs?”

Fang Cun yielded but flashed a helpless glance around. All nearby leaned ears forward; the sudden hush felt eerie. Yet as eyes turned, the Night Market flooded with noise once more. Heads turned back to peddling wares as if each was intensely busy.

……

Fang Cun found nothing amiss. Settling the recipe with Elder Qu, he wandered the Night Market—spirits seemingly high. He bought various oddities less for use, more for price. Each time he trailed Fang Cun here, He Zhenzhang suffered deeply. Such silver tossed about so carelessly—did he not ache?

He Zhenzhang’s heart bled!

Buy pills? Flying marbles? Fine. But why buy vile insects?

He’d heard Second Young Master Fang mastered all except the Classic of Documents. Talents high enough for all six to be picked for his Destined Scriptures. Why choose Classic of Spirits—widely linked to the twisted path?

Ah, but let me boast—I studied Classic of Documents well. Heh heh!

“Well, Second Young Master Fang, pardon my boldness…”

With Fang Cun’s bags piled high on the carriage, having delighted shopping, He Zhenzhang cleared his throat then cautioned quietly: “Asking Elder Qu to forge a pill? Fine. But declare it later. And… your herb transport… delay it days.”

“Why?”

Fang Cun eyed him curiously. “I buy herbs freely. What wrong?”

He Zhenzhang’s face hardened with worry. “This Night Market trades news like any good. Words spoken today become tomorrow’s sold secrets. Guard against it!”

“Danger?”

Fang Cun waved dismissively, laughing. “The Fang Family of Willow Lake fears whom?”

Seeing no budge, He Zhenzhang could only sigh. At the Academy gate, he trudged toward his quarters, shaking his head.

Halfway, he jolted: “Forgot something…” Peering about, he sighed heavily. “So… today he didn’t dump me roadside…”