Chapter 37: The Peculiar Pill of Fasting

He had even thought about taking it to District B to gamble on a stone worth a thousand spirit stones! But alas, eight spirit stones it was—after all that haggling, he only managed to trick eight out of him! Though somewhat disappointed, the young Taoist betrayed none of it; instead, a faint hint of satisfaction flickered in his eyes.

“What a coincidence, junior brother, I just happen to have a little over ninety spirit stones here!” With that, he drew ninety-two spirit stones from his pouch, along with the pale brown betting stone, and handed them all to Qin Chuan.

Now that the deal was done, the young Taoist, afraid Qin Chuan might crack open the stone on the spot and expose his ruse, quickly darted over to a nearby attendant. He whispered a few words in her ear, and the two of them cast furtive glances in Qin Chuan’s direction.

Qin Chuan paid them no mind, instead turning his attention to the spirit stones he’d just been given. They seemed a little different. Upon closer inspection, he noticed faint red threads swirling within the white stones.

Lost in thought, he was soon approached by the attendant. From afar, he couldn’t make out her features, but when she drew closer, he saw the allure in her eyes and the graceful shape of her figure, accentuated by a tight, short robe.

“Sir, this betting stone is worth a hundred spirit stones...”

The transaction completed, Qin Chuan left the Azure Elixir Pavilion without obstruction. That was only to be expected—the young Taoist was surely hiding somewhere by now, fearing Qin Chuan might seek him out for revenge, and no doubt secretly delighted to have found such a gullible disciple.

Qin Chuan did not crack the stone open on the spot, much to the Taoist’s relief. Many victims of such scams refrained from doing so immediately, and for good reason—if a sword orb were to be revealed right then and there, the Yuanfeng Market, chaotic as it was, could become a dangerous place, and all one’s efforts could be for naught. Losing a treasure was one thing, but risking one’s life was quite another.

Besides, those who bought gambling stones often harbored thoughts of keeping any treasure for themselves—such is human nature.

Placing the betting stone into his pouch, Qin Chuan left the Azure Elixir Pavilion without haste, choosing not to return to his stone chamber right away, but instead to wander the Yuanfeng Market a little longer.

He still had ten spirit stones’ worth of fasting pills in his pouch and needed to exchange them for herbs. If he frittered them away carelessly, he might ruin everything.

The sights of Yuanfeng Market were truly charming: glazed tiles, colorful ribbons, and even a few out-of-towners with curious accents strumming clay lutes and singing songs on the street. Passersby, if pleased and well-off, would sometimes toss them a reward.

Before he knew it, noon had arrived, and the crowds had thinned. He’d already wandered every corner of the vast market.

“Hmm!”

The ebbing flow of people made many shops appear quiet, clearly outpaced by those with true strength. Before him stood two such establishments, both at a crossroads, facing each other, both busy with a steady stream of customers and, judging by their names, both dealing in elixirs.

The one on the left seemed newly opened—the attendant at the door still bore the downy fuzz of youth about his lips and a trace of childishness in his expression.

By contrast, the shop on the right had a well-polished but somewhat worn signboard, showing years of business. The attendant at its door was a middle-aged man, equally enthusiastic but with a forced smile that barely touched his eyes.

Without hesitation, Qin Chuan turned into the shop on the left. After all, he only had a few fasting pills—at most, ten spirit stones’ worth.

This shop was named the Ninth Grade Golden Elixir Pavilion—a grand name, though he had yet to see if its wares lived up to it.

Entering the shop, unfamiliar with its customs, Qin Chuan simply called over an attendant and handed him almost all his fasting pills, keeping only a few for himself.

The attendant was a young Taoist in his early twenties, clad in a uniform robe of fine cloth, clearly of higher status than the rough-robed greeter outside. He welcomed Qin Chuan with a smile and invited him to sit, then took the pills and examined them closely, looking surprised.

He was an outer disciple of the Elixir Hall, usually assisting alchemists in refining pills, so he had some knowledge. Yet he had never seen this type of fasting pill before, and his curiosity was piqued.

He did not suspect this slightly younger disciple of trickery, but nonetheless selected one pill to try for himself. Fasting pills were not particularly valuable, and it was faster to test one than to examine it thoroughly.

Holding a pill the size of a pinky nail in his right palm, he was about to swallow it when, suddenly, it dissolved into a wisp of smoke and shot up his nose and mouth.

“Ah?” The young Taoist was startled, instinctively thinking it might be poison. But soon, a wave of warmth surged through his body, and, feeling the energy within, he couldn’t help but show his astonishment.

Even Qin Chuan was impressed by the young Taoist’s courage—he hadn’t feared the pill might be poisoned. No one at the Azure Elixir Pavilion had ever checked a pill like this.

But then, who would bother to forge the cheapest pill just to swindle a few spirit stones? The cost of fakes was surely higher than that of genuine fasting pills.

“This...”

For a moment, the young Taoist was unsettled. This was a fasting pill unlike any he had known. Though fasting pills were common as dirt, if a new recipe could be made at lower cost, it would be an incredible boon!

Alas, he blamed himself for letting his emotions show—his surprise had given Qin Chuan reason to be wary, and now it would be impossible to acquire the recipe at the lowest price.

He had been at the Ninth Grade Golden Elixir Pavilion for over a month and had seen many rare pills, but never before had he revealed his thoughts so obviously—he was always known for his genial smile and composure.

Many alchemists, due to circumstance, would sell rare or unknown recipes, and under his gentle guidance, he could often acquire them cheaply. The secret was never to show too much interest.

Once he regained his composure and smiled at Qin Chuan, he realized the young man was already smiling knowingly at him. Embarrassed, he made a last-ditch effort.

After glancing around, he leaned in and lowered his voice. “To tell you the truth, the manager of this pavilion is my second uncle!”

But Qin Chuan cut him off immediately. “You just want to buy my recipe, don’t you? Don’t try those tricks on me.”

…

When Qin Chuan left the Ninth Grade Golden Elixir Pavilion, only a few fasting pills remained in his pouch, but he now carried a small bronzewood token inscribed with “Ninth Grade” and a large quantity of herbs.

Strolling through the bustling streets of Yuanfeng Market, surrounded by rows upon rows of shops and throngs of people, he felt this trip had been entirely worthwhile.

He had spent the whole afternoon at the pavilion, negotiating with the young Taoist in a secluded chamber before reaching an agreement: All fasting pills Qin Chuan refined would henceforth be sold to the pavilion, which would in turn provide him with certain herbs at a ten percent discount, and allow him to buy up to a hundred spirit stones’ worth of herbs on credit.

The herbs now in his pouch were, of course, obtained on credit.

Most of those herbs would be used to make fasting pills. His own skills were not yet deep enough to attempt the more ambitious concoctions he dreamed of, but he was content for now.

By the time the sun was half swallowed by the western hills, Qin Chuan was back in his stone chamber.

“Stardust grass, sea-dust weed… these are all common fasting pill herbs.” In the Ninth Grade Golden Elixir Pavilion, four or five young Taoists sat in a circle, studying two slips of paper.

The first listed the kinds and quantities of herbs Qin Chuan had purchased; the second listed the pavilion’s discounted offerings.

Before long, they set aside the second slip and carefully scrutinized the first, lest they overlook a single word—one could almost imagine them eating the ink off the page.

After much crossing out and annotating, they were left with thirteen or fourteen herbs.

“The fasting pill recipes I know require at least fifteen types of herbs, but after our selection, only thirteen or fourteen remain—it’s hard to see how a pill could be made from so few!”

“That’s right, Brother Zhang. These herbs shouldn’t be enough. So, the real recipe for that remarkably effective fasting pill probably uses fewer than thirteen herbs—maybe twelve, or even less!”

“Brother Wei, now that’s a bit much. Even if your alchemical skills are the best among us, there’s no way a fasting pill recipe uses fewer than thirteen ingredients.”

“Enough, let’s not argue. This isn’t something we can decide. We’d better report to the shopkeeper and hope we can bring in one of the old masters from Elixir Hall.” The young Taoist who had received Qin Chuan, seeing tempers rising, quickly intervened.

“Well said!”

“I agree.”

“Indeed…”

Qin Chuan had no idea that his few fasting pills were already stirring up such controversy—nor did he know they would soon attract the attention of several reclusive masters.

At that moment, he was quietly sitting cross-legged, refining pills, his focus fully absorbed by the earth-fire, not daring to be distracted for even a moment.

As soon as he finished preparing a batch of herbs, he placed them in the cauldron, then quickly drew a Qi Recovery Pill from his pouch and swallowed it.

A single Qi Recovery Pill worked almost as well as a spirit stone, but was slightly cheaper.

Formerly, he would process all the herbs before beginning to refine pills, but that method was slow—he could only manage two batches in a day. Now, by preparing herbs and refining pills simultaneously, he could finish four batches daily! Though he needed two Qi Recovery Pills for each round, the rewards far outweighed the cost—why not do it this way?