Twenty-odd days—neither long nor short.
Ruan Se had already wasted sixty-seven batches of medicinal herbs. This sixth-rank elixir pill was indeed very difficult to refine, but Senior had said it was already a relatively simple pill.
She was still somewhat discouraged.
Lai Li’an had grown accustomed to this routine. In the first few days, he would run over and ask, “Are you alright?”
Later, he learned to judge the situation from the muffled sounds. A sharp crack meant the furnace had exploded; a dull thud meant Spiritual Power had dispersed.
This evening, no sound came from the alchemy room. Lai Li’an stood up from under the corridor, stretched his stiff neck, and cast a look toward the alchemy room. After about fifteen minutes, the door of the alchemy room was pushed open from inside.
When Ruan Se walked out, she was holding something extra in her hand. A small white jade bottle. She held the bottle very steadily, but when she walked up to Lai Li’an, her fingers involuntarily tightened.
“It’s done.”
Ruan Se said it very calmly, but Lai Li’an noticed that her fingertips were trembling slightly.
Lai Li’an took the jade bottle, opened the stopper, and an extremely faint fragrance wafted out. The previous intense, alluring aura had all been sealed into this tiny pill. The Green Wood Harmonizing Qi Pill. It was done.
Lai Li’an looked at it for a long moment, then recorked the bottle and handed it back to Ruan Se.
“Excellent quality.”
Though it was only a few words, they still filled Ruan Se with joy. She took back the jade bottle without showing emotion.
“Thank you for your guidance, Senior.”
Lai Li’an waved his hand, signaling her to sit. Ruan Se hesitated for a moment, then sat down on the step beside him, about an arm’s length apart. Neither looked at the other; both stared at the old locust tree in the courtyard. Dusk slowly slipped down from the treetops. The white crane had curled up and entered dreamland.
“Senior.”
“Mm.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Senior, just who are you?”
Lai Li’an was slightly startled. This was not the first time he had heard this question. He was silent for a moment, then instead of answering directly, he asked back,
“What do you think?”
Ruan Se lowered her head. The corner of her mouth twitched beneath her face veil, as if weighing her words.
“Senior’s Alchemy Path attainments are not inferior to our sect’s Grand Supreme Elder. Senior’s cultivation level, I also cannot see through. Any one of the cultivation techniques, elixir pills, or talismans in Senior’s hands would be enough to shake the Cangwu Realm. Yet someone like Senior is willing to stay in this small courtyard, watching over a comatose disciple every day, and watching me blow up the furnace again and again.”
She paused.
“Senior is either a reclusive great master tired of the mortal world, or…”
She didn’t finish. Lai Li’an waited for a while. Seeing that she wasn’t going to continue, he completed the second half for her:
“Or an immortal toying with the world?”
Ruan Se didn’t nod or shake her head. She just sat quietly until dusk dyed her robes a gray-blue.
“Senior, I’m not testing you,” she finally spoke again.
“I’m just thinking, if one day Senior has to leave this place, will Wan’er… will she be sad?”
Lai Li’an’s fingers moved slightly. Ruan Se didn’t wait for his answer. She stood up, brushed the dust off her skirt, and said,
“I’m going to give Wan’er her medicine.”
Lai Li’an sat alone on the steps. Ruan Se’s words still lingered in his mind. He was a transmigrator. He was not a person of this world. This fact had been sealed the moment he opened his eyes lying in that filthy gutter.
He had no sect, no master, no inherent belonging like those cultivators. He had crawled out from among the mortals, relying on deception, on acting, on a set of fabricated rhetoric.
He had actually never seriously thought about “the future,” because for him, just surviving the present in the Cultivation World was already a luxury.
But now someone was asking him: if one day you have to leave, will someone be sad?
Would Su Wan’er be sad?
Of course he knew the answer.
But what about himself?
Lai Li’an looked up at the moonlight and suddenly let out a self-deprecating laugh. He was not a reclusive great master, nor an immortal toying with the world. He was just a liar. But this liar now had a girl counting on him. He had to first gain a firm footing. As for the future, he’d worry about it later.
The same night, at the other end of Yunze Market.
A middle-aged cultivator in a gray robe stood outside the alchemy room door. He glanced inside through the half-shut door crack, then finally couldn’t resist pushing the door open and walking in.
Meng Qiuran was sitting cross-legged in front of the elixir furnace, his lapels stained with dregs of medicinal herbs and ashes, his hair casually tied behind his head. There were two obvious dark circles under his eyes, but the hand brushing over the elixir furnace was so steady that it didn’t tremble in the slightest.
The gray-robed cultivator stood behind Meng Qiuran for a long time, seeming to want to speak but hesitating. He was Meng Qiuran’s senior uncle. He had watched the child grow up—exceptional talent, outstanding comprehension, but with a restless nature that could never sit still.
Every time he refined pills, he would go out for air before half was done, or drag his fellow disciples to drink and chat. He had been scolded countless times for this. But this time, after Meng Qiuran returned from his travels outside, he seemed like a different person—soaking in the alchemy room all day, forgetting to eat and sleep, repeatedly refining.
“Senior Uncle, if you keep staring, my batch of pills will be scorched by your gaze.”
Meng Qiuran said without turning back, a hint of teasing in his voice.
The gray-robed cultivator was not annoyed at being seen through. He stroked his beard and walked into the alchemy room, crouching beside him. With a tone of emotion, he said,
“Qiuran ah, your uncle has lived to this age and seen many geniuses, and many hardworking people. But someone who is both genius and hardworking is rare. What did you encounter on this trip?”
Meng Qiuran did not answer immediately. His gaze fell on the dancing flames in the furnace.
“Senior Uncle,” he suddenly spoke, his tone losing some of its nonchalance, “this Alchemy Grand Assembly will be very different.”
The gray-robed cultivator raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“A very formidable person will participate.”
Meng Qiuran paused, and in his mind’s eye appeared that charred peak that had been flattened by Heavenly Thunder. He took a deep breath.
“I have to perform well in front of that Senior. If he’s pleased, maybe I’ll have another path open up.”
The gray-robed cultivator looked at the light in Meng Qiuran’s eyes, brighter than the furnace fire. He didn’t ask any more questions.
He just patted his nephew’s shoulder, stood up, and walked out of the alchemy room. That someone could turn his restless nephew into an alchemy fanatic—no matter who that “Senior” was, it was worth a thank you.
The days of the Alchemy Grand Assembly drew closer day by day. The number of cultivators in Yunze Market had clearly increased. No longer were only rogue cultivators passing through the streets; more and more sect disciples began appearing everywhere.
They wore various sect robes, purchasing spiritual herbs and alchemy tools in groups in the market. Every alchemist knew what the once-a-century Cangwu Alchemy Convention meant.
And deep within the Enforcement Hall, an undercurrent had never subsided. That murder case file still lay on Sun Zhanglao’s desk. The direct evidence of the case pointed to an unidentified Golden Core cultivator, but all leads for deeper investigation had inexplicably been cut off.
Li Xiuyuan had reported the investigation progress to him more than once. The only female cultivator from the Dan Sect who might have had close contact with the murderer—he dared not investigate deeply due to her identity. Fortunately, Fu Yuan had not continued to apply aggressive pressure.
After this Nascent Soul Elder of the Tianlan Sect personally stood before that sword mark, his attitude had subtly changed. He only occasionally sent someone to ask a question, maintaining a posture of accusation, but in reality it was more like giving an explanation to his own sect.
He planned to wait until after the Alchemy Grand Assembly, when the attention of all parties in the market had shifted away from this matter, before making further plans.