Zilong had already turned his back. He had no interest in extending a ridiculous argument with an attendant who did not even understand the nature of the goods he was selling. His mind was now occupied by a single, focused thought: Money.If a pill of such trashy quality could fetch five hundred gold coins, then amassing ten thousand was far from impossible. In fact, with his vast reservoir of knowledge, he could potentially reap tenfold that amount.Zilong walked steadily toward the raw materials section. A younger female attendant immediately greeted him with a smile far more courteous than that of the previous male attendant."Is there anything I can help you with, Young Master?""What is the price for one set of ingredients for a Qi Recovery Pill?" Zilong asked, getting straight to the point."Sixty gold coins," the attendant replied.Zilong paused for a moment. "Sixty?""That is correct, sir. The price of raw materials has indeed been rising."Sixty gold coins for the raw materia

The disciple immediately recoiled, his face twisted in indignation. Elder Mo stared intently at Zilong, a profound sense of curiosity burning behind his eyes. "If you truly know the cause of my failure, follow me upstairs."Zilong didn't budge. He stood rigid in his spot.Elder Mo furrowed his brow, unaccustomed to anyone who didn't immediately obey him. "Did you not hear me?""I heard.""Then why are you still standing there?"Zilong met his gaze with a flat expression. "What’s in it for me?"The faces of the disciples transformed into masks of sheer disbelief."Brat! My Master is allowing you into his sacred refining room, and you’re still asking for a reward? You should be kneeling and giving thanks!" one of the disciples barked.Zilong didn't even glance at the disciple. He kept his eyes locked on Elder Mo. "I came here to make money. Not to be a free tutor for others.""You!""Enough!" Elder Mo’s voice commanded instant silence. The old man studied Zilong for a long time, gauging

Dozens of medicinal droplets hung in the air, shimmering beneath the dim, flickering light of the room’s oil lamp. Some were pitch-black, the useless, corrupted residue, while others had transformed into a clear, pale green: the salvaged essence. Suspended between them were several grey droplets that vibrated violently, as if on the verge of exploding.Qing Zilong sat cross-legged directly before the stone bowl. Both hands were raised, his fingers dancing with agility, as if plucking the invisible strings of a musical instrument. A thread of thin Purple Qi, emanating a dense, ancient aura, flowed from his fingertips, enveloping each droplet with terrifying precision.One drop. Two drops. Then, dozens moved in perfect unison.Behind the thick wooden door, Elder Mo held his breath. His aged, experienced eyes tracked every movement of Zilong’s hands through the small gap, not blinking once. His throat felt tight; he felt as if he were witnessing a miracle that had no place in this world.

Elder Mo’s footsteps struck the wooden floor of the Spirit Pill Pavilion corridor in a rapid rhythm.Tap! Tap! Tap! His brown robes jerked and fluttered, trailing behind the urgency of his pace. His right hand clutched a small jade bottle tightly, shielding it as if it were more precious than everything else in the pavilion combined.His two disciples followed, gasping for breath."Master!" one of the disciples accelerated, nearly running. "Where are we going?"Elder Mo did not turn his head; his gaze remained fixed forward. "The fifth floor."The two disciples exchanged glances, confused. "The fifth floor?" the other disciple asked in surprise. "Isn't that where the Pavilion Master's office is?""That is our destination," Elder Mo replied coldly.The first disciple glanced at the jade bottle in his master’s hand, hesitant. "But, Master... do we really need to see the Pavilion Master just for one pill?"Screech!Elder Mo stopped abruptly. The disciple behind him nearly collided with h

Meanwhile, on the third floor, Qing Zilong was completely unaware that he had become the center of attention on the top floor.Before him, nine sets of medicinal ingredients were scattered about. Zilong picked up a stalk of Qi Gathering Grass, twirling it between his fingers, observing its color and scent."Eight months," he muttered, placing it on the right side. He picked up a second stalk. "Six months," he placed it on the left. The third stalk... he frowned. "Five months? The person who harvested this doesn't even know when the medicinal essence reaches its optimal condition."Zilong let out a long sigh. He began to understand why pills with sixty percent purity were considered luxury goods in Black Cloud City. The alchemists here mixed ingredients of inconsistent age and quality into a single blind recipe."Idiots," he whispered softly.After half an hour, the ingredients were divided into groups based on their energy content. Zilong approached the bronze furnace in the center of