Alchemist In A Cultivation Realm

Chapter 4: Cultivation Pills

Lao Zhang was old, his name quite literally meaning Old man. It had been ages since anyone had called him by his own name, and he preferred the name he’d been given anyway. It represented the time he’d spent at the sect here.

Lao Zhang had been working as an Alchemist for several decades now. A large portion of that time had been spent here at the Cloudy Peaks sect, ever since the Sect Elder had seen his skill and hired him as an alchemist. He had spent his life’s work here, and only a few now remained who remembered him as he was in his youth.

As he’d crossed a century in age, he had been free to leave the sect with his earnings, gaining the title of venerable Elder solely on his age. He had refused, of course. What purpose would he have in life if he stopped working for his sect? Perhaps if his grandson had been alive… Lao Zhang felt a pang of guilt at the memory, but the pain had dulled with time.

No, his purpose was right here. Working under the sect as he lived the last of his days trying to reach the truth of his own Dao. His age had offered him wisdom, and there were some things that you only saw when death approached closer and your own physique turned against you. It had been a while since something had surprised Lao Zhang. But here, today, that fact seemed to have been occurring more than once.

“Why hasn't anyone tried to test the original recipe? Or improve it?” the boy, Yuan, asked, sitting cross legged on the floor with textbooks opened all around him.

Lao Zhang frowned as he looked at the boy with a strange expression through narrowed eyes. “These recipes were created by our Venerable ancestors, that too at the peak of their cultivation paths. To try and tamper with them would be folly,” he replied, as the boy turned back down to read through the texts, murmuring something under his breath.

“Doesn’t that mean they’re outdated?” Yuan asked once more. And once again, Lao Zhang found himself lacking words. He stood silently for a moment, trying to think of a suitable way to guide Yuan, but the boy had already lost track of his words, busy leafing through the textbooks once more as he occasionally muttered words Lao Zhang had a hard time placing.

There had been something off about the boy ever since he’d lost his spar. The way he’d so easily chosen to give up had worried Lao Zhang that the defeat had been quite harsh, and that his spirit might be in shambles. Yet Yuan appeared to be just fine, quite excited if anything, judging by the smile that crept onto his face from time to time as he read the textbooks around him.

Perhaps the treatment of the head injury was not complete. Lao Zhang was versed in medicine, but he was no healer. And injuries of the head were often tied to injuries of the spirit. Perhaps he should ask a healer to have a look at the child.

Lao Zhang shook his head. This was not his grandchild, no matter what he thought at times. He shouldn’t coddle Yuan. Without tribulations, none would ever grow and find their Paths. All he should do was look after the child when he was about to fall. The same thing he’d do for any other disciple in the sect.

“I’ve memorised them,” Yuan said, closing the textbooks.

“Already?” Lao Zhang asked in surprise. The text only had a few basic herbs, but he’d still expected it to take a few days. It had barely been two hours. “What is the use of the Glacial Spirit Poison then?”

“Glacial Spirit Poison. A poison that acts on the heart and the body, slowing down its beat as the blood and body begin to turn cold, before the victim eventually dies of heart failure. It can be used as an ingredient to counteract potent spirit poisons, as the decreased blood flow can prevent the poison from spreading while the glacial Qi can be used to mellow the fever,” the boy replied in a single breath.

Lao Zhang exhaled, staring at Yuan. “That… is correct. You memorized all of them?” he asked. Perhaps this was the boy’s true blessing.

A sheepish smile appeared on the boy’s face as he looked down. “I know most of them by their descriptions. I got lucky with this one since I remembered the properties and application as well.”

“Have you been taught Alchemy before, Yuan?”

“No, Elder—err, Master. This is my first time. But I had to memorise a lot of things as a kid, so I’m good at memorizing names and descriptions,” Yuan replied, looking up at him.

Lao Zhang coughed once, hiding his pleasure at being called Master. He hadn’t had many disciples. His talent was too meagre to teach many, and those that had been there were all old like him. To be called Master after so long was pleasing.

“Very well. Then let us start learning how to use the Cauldron,” Lao Zhang said, as he watched Yuan’s face light up with a smile. Ah, he was truly blessed to have such an enthusiastic disciple.