Chapter 106: The Burning of Clothes Festival

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Jiang Qian was momentarily stunned and couldn't help but speak, his tone tinged with confusion. "Why say that, Young Master Shao?"

"Actually, we’re on the same side."

"On the same side?"

His eyes showed bewilderment, as if he knew nothing at all, and for a moment he stammered. "I’ve worked at the Alchemy Pavilion for over ten years, and indeed, uh, well, on the same side."

Yet what he truly intended was known only to himself.

"Hey, do I have to make things clear, Wang?" Wang Hao suddenly put on a stern face, as if this was the truth. Even Qin Chuan, hiding in the shadows and quietly suppressing his aura with the Dust Pill, was surprised—quite a good performance.

But whether Wang Hao was acting or playing a role of someone skilled in acting, only he himself knew.

Wang Hao lifted his leg and kicked a cloth bundle beside him right in front of Jiang Qian. "See for yourself."

He seemed displeased, as if tired of explaining, and sat down with a grim expression.

Jiang Qian’s eyes suddenly trembled.

"This is…?"

Looking down, dark red blood seeped from the torn cloth, pooling on the ground with a strong metallic scent.

"The corpse of Qin Chuan."

He deliberately emphasized the name "Qin Chuan."

"I, Wang Hao, and the elders of my family are not fools. When the Zeng family patriarch broke through to that realm, he shattered the balance of Jade Screen Mountain."

"The Alchemy Pavilion must surrender. This is the token of loyalty! I fulfilled the Zeng family’s demands, but you’ve been deceiving me here!"

"I now seriously doubt your sincerity."

He snorted coldly at this point.

"Th-this..." Jiang Qian had just received news from the Zeng family that the plan had failed, but regardless of whether the Alchemy Pavilion saw through it, as long as no one had a handle on them, they could continue to operate undercover. He hadn’t expected such a turn of events.

Excited, he reached out to rip open the cloth bundle, revealing the severed head and body. "I’ve never met Qin Chuan in person, but I’ve seen his portrait. There’s no mistake!"

"Hahaha!"

Having been an undercover agent in the Alchemy Pavilion for over ten years was truly tormenting. He spent countless nights carefully weighing every word in his mind, fearful of raising suspicion. He dared not sleep too deeply, marry, or get close to anyone.

If he could complete this mission with the Alchemy Pavilion, he would no longer live in constant fear, and would be rewarded endlessly with spirit stones and pills. Even if his talent and aptitude were lacking, he would still be able to...

At the thought, his hand trembled as he excitedly took out a jade slip.

"I will report this to the higher-ups immediately."

"Which member of the Zeng family is it?"

"Zeng Qiu."

"So it’s Zeng Qiu!"

"Yes... uh..."

"Who’s speaking?"

Just then, Qin Chuan stepped out from the shadows and looked at Jiang Qian with a gentle laugh.

His smile was sincere—or at least, it appeared so—but in Jiang Qian’s eyes, it seemed magnified with suspicion.

"Qin, Qin Chuan?"

He lowered his head to look again at the corpse in the cloth bundle, and immediately the figure of a dark servant emerged.

"No need to look. That’s fake."

"Our Alchemy Pavilion may be lacking, but we’re not without a master of formation arts."

*Snap.*

Jiang Qian’s hand trembled, and the jade slip fell to the ground. Just as he reached to pick it up, a silver-white longsword pressed against his throat, barely an inch away.

With a sigh, he felt he would never touch that jade slip again. Yet a peculiar lightness swept over him, like a release.

...

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Qin Chuan often misunderstood Wang Hao but never failed to provoke his scorn.

It wasn’t until the third jug of warmed wine was drained that Qin Chuan’s face showed only a slight flush.

Only then did Wang Hao realize he had been deceived.

"You cunning scoundrel. I never thought you’d fool even me. Is this what you meant by not being able to drink?"

He was furious, pretending to grab a clay pot to smash it, but seeing Qin Chuan remain calm and composed, he thought, “How boring.”

"Friends like you are no fun."

"Why so?"

"No secrets."

"Bring on the fourth jug! Don’t be such a woman!"

"Wait, my old man would kill me! Even if I took just one jug, he’d nag me for days!"

Qin Chuan sighed and took the last of the Dan Zhi Wine from his storage pouch.

"Drink my Qing Shan Sect’s wine!"

"You’re from the Qing Shan Sect?"

"What, just realized?"

"Qin Chuan of Qing Shan Sect? That name sounds familiar," Wang Hao frowned, pondering.

"Forget it, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to try your Dan Zhi Wine."

He grinned, and soon the air filled with a rich, lingering fragrance of fine wine. He thought, “This is some good stuff!”

Looking out, the Jade Screen Mountain’s rocky cliffs were equally breathtaking.

Autumn deepened; mist wrapped the green slopes. Beyond the cliffs, dense woods stretched endlessly; thick clouds sealed the mountain pass, whose height was unknown. Wisps of fog swirled over flowing streams, whose length was likewise unfathomable.

Wang Hao snapped back to reality, noticing Qin Chuan was staring blankly at the horizon. He was about to speak but stopped himself.

“Today must be the Cold Clothes Festival…”

“Cold Clothes Festival? What kind of festival is that?”

Qin Chuan didn’t immediately answer, his expression darkening.

He slowly stood, removed his outer long robe, and tossed it into the air.

As the robe reached its apex, he did not form any hand seals. With his left hand, he made a gentle palm gesture, suddenly supporting the robe midair.

Nine threads of flame shot out instantly, merging into a vivid, lifelike dragon. Just as the flames were about to consume the garment, Qin Chuan’s expression shifted.

He recalled his father’s words: when burning cold clothes, one must use ordinary fire. At the time, it had no meaning, but now it struck him with surprise. The dragon abruptly dispersed.

“Ordinary fire? Could it be Father has seen these arts?” The thought flashed through his mind but he didn’t dwell on it; it wasn’t something he could clarify now.

He scooped the robe back into his hand.

“Brother Hao, do you have… uh, any fire stones or other ignition tools used by mortals?”

“Huh?”

The firelight reflected in Qin Chuan’s eyes—uncertain whether it was the flames or tears flickering. He wiped his face roughly, and only after the robe in the brazier was reduced to charred ashes did he turn and leave.

“Still drinking?”

“If you want, go drink yourself.”

Wang Hao muttered. He longed to drink such fine wine himself!

He didn’t disturb Qin Chuan and went off to drink by himself, whether from greed or some other reason, no one knew.

...

Qin Chuan sat cross-legged in the pill room, feeling the pressure of time weigh heavily. The situation on Jade Screen Mountain was strange. His cultivation couldn’t advance for the moment, so he had to fully exert his efforts to strengthen external means.

He already had enough spirit stones, and the Alchemy Pavilion offered a ten-percent discount on herbs. His first priority was to replenish his consumed pills.

The second was to improve the Yin-Yang Thunder Beads!

Both tasks were imperative and equally important, but after careful thought, he decided to refine the Yin-Yang Thunder Beads first.

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The Yin-Yang Thunder Beads were highly effective. Though their power alone couldn’t guarantee victory, they had the advantage of swift deployment, requiring little preparation time.

Having refined them once before, this attempt would undoubtedly be easier. Besides, Wang Hao mentioned a wondrous place on the Dan Stone Cliff that might assist him.

Setting aside distractions, Qin Chuan looked at the plain-looking cauldron and the surrounding herbs.

In his mind, the unrefined formula for the Yin-Yang Thunder Beads unfolded, revealing the necessary herbs as countless points of light.

He merged nearly ten thousand variations of plants, the wandering lights forming a luminous ring.

His heart stirred; the points of light on the ring resembled hungry wolves breaking free from their bonds, instantly attacking the previously faint lights.

“This first attempt at improvement—I wonder how far I’ll get.”

An hour later, Qin Chuan poured all his spirit and focus into the cauldron. Raising his right hand, he plucked three to five herbs, crushed them to extract juice, and poured it into the furnace’s mouth.

A master alchemist immersed in the Dao of alchemy for years would be amazed: Qin Chuan already possessed the rudiments of an alchemy master.

Those unfamiliar with pills first learn herbal properties—they care only for what lies within the plants.

Beginners understand the mutual generation and restriction among herbs and begin to refine pills, considering not only internal but also external changes, though still limited to plants.

Further advancement leads to Qin Chuan’s current state: no fixed formula yet surpassing those who have one; having a formula yet surpassing those without. His mind was fixed on the cauldron, no longer confined to mere herbs.

This time, Qin Chuan labored for nearly a month.

Failures were countless; the storage pouch held only a dozen or so charred worthless pills. Most were mere dregs.

Qin Chuan’s hair was disheveled, eyes bloodshot, face pale. His garments lost their original colors—patches of yellow and blue.

When spiritual energy depleted, he used spirit stones or took recuperation pills.

On the last day of that month, when the sky outside faintly brightened, Qin Chuan finally dispersed the spiritual energy that stoked the earthly fire.

When the furnace’s heat largely dissipated, he struck the cauldron with his right hand, and two pills shot forth, gray all over with fine white threads like hair running through them.

Bringing them close to his nose, he detected a faint burnt firestone scent; weighing them in his palm, they were about the size and weight of broad beans.

“Ah.”

He sighed softly and suddenly hurled them forward.

Boom!

As the smoke cleared, the area was a wreck; wooden and stone facilities lay destroyed.

“An all-out strike equivalent to the fourth level of Qi refinement—not enough!”

“At my current alchemical skill, this is all I can achieve.”

“Brother, what’s causing such a commotion?”

At that moment, Wang Hao’s voice came through a special formation. Although there had been several furnace explosions before, none matched this one in intensity.

He formed an arc of light with his fingers, landing on the formation.

“Qin Chuan has a business here. Brother Wang, are you interested?”

His face was pale and weak, but his tone showed no trace of fatigue.

“Oh? What kind of business?”

...

In recent days, the Dan Stone Cliff had grown strange. Many who bought pills no longer went to pill shops but to the Alchemy Pavilion to rent pill refining spaces.

At the Cloud Guest Inn, a gray-robed Taoist gulped down half a jug of wine.

“I just ran into someone outside asking for directions—a wealthy young master, no less.”

“Didn’t expect to be gifted twenty spirit stones just for giving directions. Heh heh.”

“Hey, another jug of spirit wine, on him!” shouted a black-robed Taoist opposite.

“Just one jug of spirit wine, Hao!”

“How many spirit stones have you really taken? I don’t believe it’s only twenty that’s got you this cheerful.”

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