Humble Family Grass

Fire Spirit Stones, as a rare and special mineral, produce a furnace flame far more stable than ordinary earth fire. Their yield is low, so the sect dares not use them recklessly, reserving them only for special occasions—such as this very moment.

He selected a portion of medicinal herbs, arranging them casually around himself. Under the astonished gazes of the crowd, he once again activated the Fire Spirit Stones.

One piece, two pieces, three pieces!

He fed a full three Fire Spirit Stones into the furnace, causing a stir among those below the platform.

Even Fang Mu, when exerting himself to the utmost, could barely manage to activate two Fire Spirit Stones at once; yet Qin Chuan, at the very outset of his alchemy, was wielding three.

With this, the impurities in the spiritual herbs would be consumed more swiftly, and the pill would take shape sooner. However, the difficulty of control would also increase dramatically, making the process far more treacherous.

Below the stage, the hall was densely packed with alchemists, many of whom cocked their heads in disdain, waiting to see Qin Chuan make a fool of himself. Yet beneath their scorn hid a tension they themselves scarcely recognized. They had practiced alchemy for years, but none had reached the point of commanding three Fire Spirit Stones simultaneously without risking an explosion.

You—a mere novice, not even half a year into the sect, only at the fifth level of Qi Refining—how could you possibly succeed? Have all the years I, a Daoist, have lived, been wasted on a dog?

Qin Chuan paid no heed to the commotion below. The hearts of men were nothing but a den of ghosts and monsters.

He placed the prepared Yellow Star Grass and powdered Ice Wheel Stone into the cauldron, then swiftly raised his left hand to press down on the lid, while his right palm released a white mist of spiritual energy that split into three strands and merged with the three Fire Spirit Stones.

The blazing white flames shimmered and danced, the three fire serpents converging into one, revealing a crimson-scaled flood dragon. This dragon was lifelike, its scales overlapping in intricate detail, as if it might leap forth at any moment.

At this display, silence fell over the crowd. Some even showed a glimmer of insight in their eyes.

Such mastery of fire control—dividing and merging at will, precise to the finest degree—was truly wondrous, far beyond their own capabilities...

Under Qin Chuan's control, the crimson flood dragon proved remarkably docile. The two pronounced bulges on its brow quivered as it uttered a gentle cry, like a deer’s call, and began circling the round cauldron counterclockwise in a slow, measured dance.

The dark-gold cauldron, bathed in firelight, glowed a vivid red. Waves of heat radiated outward, distorting the air around it. The onlookers below could not help but tug at their sleeves and wipe sweat from their brows—though no sweat was truly there.

In stark contrast, Qin Chuan stood unmoved by the heat, his hands forming a succession of intricate seals.

Sometimes he used finger mudras, other times palm and fist strikes, each one landing on the cauldron’s body, producing only the occasional muffled hiss—as if his force had penetrated the cauldron wall to stir the pill liquid within.

Qin Chuan’s alchemical techniques were not formally taught; perhaps not orthodox, but undoubtedly effective.

Indeed, his method of striking from a distance kept all eyes riveted on the stage.

In terms of technical prowess, Qin Chuan could not match these Daoists who had devoted decades to the alchemical path. But when it came to imagination and innovation, none could hold a candle to him.

Qin Chuan’s foundation was tempered in countless trials. The First Volume of the Mustard Seed Immortal Finger pointed straight to the great Dao itself; alchemy, after all, was but a minor path derived from the heavenly order.

For him, refining pills was a natural, unimpeded process.

His mind flashed with inspiration, effortlessly drawing upon techniques others would never consider, plucking them as easily as picking up fallen leaves.

“So this is how the Minor Looping Hand is used... All these basic refining methods—so inconsequential I never bothered with them—turn out to be crucial. I must have been using them incorrectly all along.”

...

Amidst the crowd’s amazement, Qin Chuan’s actions flowed without the slightest hesitation, as if he truly had refined pills countless times before. Even the Elder of the Pavilion began to wonder if there was some secret collusion between Fang Mu and Qin Chuan.

But he immediately dismissed the thought. This matter was of utmost importance, and he himself had arranged it—there could be no mistake. So thinking, his gaze toward Qin Chuan grew even darker.

Qin Chuan had a venerable master to shield him; the old man could do nothing to him. But if Fang Mu took first place, there was no way he would hand over the Nether Spring Fruit. At that time...

This pill was, after all, only of the second tier of Qi Refining. If not for the lack of time left in the competition, he would never have dared to use three Fire Spirit Stones.

With the fire so intense, the various spiritual herbs fused more rapidly. If he wished the impurities not to affect the final pill, he could not adhere rigidly to the original recipe!

At this point, Qin Chuan took up an inconspicuous herb—Wild Family Grass.

“Hm? He’s going to alter the recipe?”

The crowd was stunned. To memorize the recipe at a glance was already astonishing for a Qi Refining alchemist, but no one had imagined Qin Chuan would choose to modify it in order to speed up the pill’s formation!

The Elder’s eyes lit up as he saw Qin Chuan holding the Wild Family Grass.

He knew best of all that this Dissolving Marrow Powder was utterly incompatible with Wild Family Grass; their medicinal properties clashed in every aspect and could hardly be combined.

As long as Qin Chuan added Wild Family Grass to the mixture, the entire batch would be ruined!

Then, when Fang Mu triumphed, he could quietly nip that sprout and save himself a Nether Spring Fruit.

Qin Chuan made no special preparations—just pinched the tip of a leaf from the Wild Family Grass and dropped that sliver into the cauldron.

He repeated this process, using about ten plants in total.

Yet the expected explosion of the cauldron never came. Now even the Pavilion Master was bewildered.

No one had ever processed herbs as Qin Chuan did, using only a tiny portion. Could it be that this sliver of leaf held some unique property, allowing two mutually antagonistic medicines to blend without a trace of rejection?

The Pavilion Master, like the others, wore an uncertain expression.

“I saw him add Yellow Star Grass and Ice Wheel Stone earlier—spiritual herbs and minerals that, by all rights, should repel Wild Family Grass. Am I misremembering?”

The naturally grown Little Family Grass had long since vanished from the world; the records mentioned it only in passing, so no alchemist present knew its details.

These fragments of Little Family Grass, wrapped in Qin Chuan’s spiritual energy, dissolved extremely slowly, their medicinal power released with exquisite control.

Sensing the time was right, Qin Chuan drew out another Fire Spirit Stone—but this time, he held it in his palm.

With a thought, his spiritual energy surged in.

A faint “puff” was heard.

At first, only a tiny flame appeared, but in an instant it grew into a serpentine blaze.

This flame-snake was far less imposing than the crimson flood dragon, its forked tongue flickering as it hissed, then slipped through the cauldron’s vent to stir the contents within.

By now, dusk had already fallen; sunlight spread like fire across the clouds above Bilu Peak, painting the ever-present mist with a touch of mystery.

The third round of the tournament was nearly at an end!

Only a quarter of an hour remained.

Even the Elder’s palm was slick with sweat, leaving a faint misty imprint on the sandalwood armrest.

The final moments had come.

A quarter hour, an incense stick, a single breath!