Longyu found the first reference to Whale Glue exactly where he expected.
In the medical records.
The problem was that it said almost nothing.
Whale Glue: a substance obtained from certain marine Soul Beasts.
Used in nutritional tonics and strengthening preparations.
Effectiveness varies.
That was all.
Longyu stared at the page.
Then at Lingyu.
Then back at the page.
“That’s useless.”
Lingyu shook her head.
“Not completely.”
“What did we learn?”
“That it is already used medicinally.”
Longyu had to concede the point.
“Fine.
Almost useless.”
Lingyu kept searching.
They found other mentions.
A recipe for physical weakness.
A supposedly aphrodisiac preparation.
A remedy for recovery after prolonged illness.
One text claimed it improved fertility.
Another said it was little more than expensive food.
The results contradicted one another.
Longyu started smiling.
Lingyu noticed.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because this is good.”
“We have five books that disagree with each other.”
“Exactly.”
Longyu closed one of them.
“That means there’s something to investigate.”
His memories of the future were frustratingly incomplete.
He knew Whale Glue could help strengthen the body.
He knew age or quality mattered.
He knew that when properly used, it could help young Soul Masters endure more powerful rings.
But he did not remember a recipe.
Or temperature.
Or dosage.
Or which species was best.
Or how much should be taken.
Or for how long.
He remembered the result.
Not the road.
That was simultaneously an enormous advantage and a constant source of frustration.
It was like remembering that somewhere there was a door.
Without remembering where the key was.
Finding samples was easier.
Spirit City was one of the greatest cities for Soul Masters on the continent.
If something related to Soul Beasts could be sold, someone there probably sold it.
Longyu, Lingyu, and Mu Qinghe visited the commercial district, discreetly accompanied by a Worship Hall guard.
Longyu did not want to introduce himself as Qianjun Douluo’s grandson.
That would immediately change the prices.
They entered the first shop.
“Whale Glue,” Longyu said.
The merchant looked at them.
Then at Mu Qinghe.
“What for?”
Longyu answered:
“Research.”
The man looked disappointed.
“I thought it was for your father.”
Longyu did not understand.
Neither did Lingyu.
Mu Qinghe coughed.
“Show us what you have.”
The merchant brought out a box.
Inside was a hard, dark amber substance.
Longyu examined it.
“What species?”
“Whale.”
“What kind of whale?”
The merchant blinked.
“A big one.”
Longyu closed his eyes for a moment.
“Approximate age?”
“Old.”
Lingyu covered her mouth.
Longyu suspected she was trying not to laugh.
“How was it processed?”
“Properly.”
This time even Mu Qinghe looked away.
Longyu breathed slowly.
“Where was it obtained?”
“Western coast.”
“What region?”
“Near the sea.”
Longyu slowly pushed the box back toward the merchant.
“Thank you.”
“You’re not buying it?”
“Definitely not.”
The second shop was better.
At least the merchant knew the origin.
Deepwater Iron Whale.
Around three hundred years old.
Caught by Soul Master fishermen eight months earlier.
Sun-dried.
No additional treatment.
At the third shop, they found much darker Whale Glue.
The merchant claimed it came from a beast over a thousand years old.
He had no proof.
Longyu bought only a minimal amount.
At the fourth…
“This isn’t Whale Glue.”
The merchant looked offended.
“Of course it is.”
Lingyu examined the piece.
She smelled it.
Scraped one edge.
“It has animal fat mixed into it.”
“It’s a special preparation.”
Longyu placed the piece back on the counter.
“Goodbye.”
By the end of the day, they had six samples.
All different.
Longyu numbered them.
Not by name.
A, B, C, D, E, F.
Lingyu asked:
“Why?”
“Blind testing.”
Mu Qinghe smiled.
“Good.”
Longyu looked at him.
“People already do that?”
“Not by that name.”
Longyu made a mental note to be more careful with his vocabulary.
The first objective was not to consume them.
It was to analyze them.
Color.
Smell.
Texture.
Solubility.
Response to heat.
Apparent energy content.
Impurities.
Mu Qinghe could use his Martial Soul to perceive some of the contained vitality.
Lingyu had a natural sensitivity toward life energy.
Longyu observed changes in Soul Power.
Sample A barely reacted.
B released a small amount of energy after heating.
C smelled so bad that Jin Yue refused to remain in the room when she learned about the experiment.
“That was inside a dead whale!”
Longyu looked at her.
“Technically, all Whale Glue—”
“I don’t want to know.”
Sample D produced something interesting.
When heated slowly, its internal energy increased.
Not created.
Became more accessible.
Longyu watched the substance begin to soften.
“Stop.”
Lingyu removed the container.
Mu Qinghe examined the sample.
“More active.”
Longyu wrote:
Moderate heat: possible activation/release.
They repeated the test with a smaller portion.
Same result.
Then Longyu made his first mistake.
“Higher temperature.”
Lingyu looked at him.
“Are you sure?”
“We need to know the limit.”
They increased the heat.
The sample melted.
Then began to darken.
Its energy dropped.
Longyu stopped the process immediately.
Mu Qinghe examined the substance.
“Less vitality than before.”
Lingyu looked toward Longyu.
“You destroyed it.”
Longyu stared at the container.
“Yes.”
Jin Yue, who had just returned because the smell had improved, smiled.
“The great researcher just cooked his research.”
“We learned something.”
“That you’re bad at cooking.”
“That there is a useful temperature range.”
“And that you’re bad at cooking.”
Longyu wrote:
Excessive temperature degrades properties.
Beneath that he added:
Jin Yue is not useful in the laboratory.
“I saw that.”
“Good.”
The second mistake happened two days later.
Not because of Longyu.
Because of Jiangmo.
They had left several sealed samples on a table.
When they returned, one was missing.
Longyu looked at the containers.
Then at Qianjun.
“Where is E?”
Qianjun looked around.
Jiangmo walked inside.
Chewing.
Longyu froze.
Lingyu froze.
Mu Qinghe froze.
Jiangmo stopped chewing.
“What?”
Longyu pointed at his hand.
“What are you eating?”
Jiangmo looked at the piece.
“This.”
“That is an experimental sample.”
“It tasted strange.”
Longyu closed his eyes.
“How much did you eat?”
“A little.”
Mu Qinghe was already walking toward him.
“Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sit.”
Jiangmo looked at Qianjun.
Qianjun smiled.
“Finally.”
Nothing happened to him.
Which, scientifically, was still information.
But Longyu wrote a new rule.
Do not leave samples where Jiangmo can find them.
Lingyu added underneath:
Or Jin Yue.
Jin Yue protested.
The first analyses confirmed something important.
Not all Whale Glue was equal.
Its quality varied enormously.
Probably because of species.
Age.
Preservation.
Processing.
Possibly environment.
Longyu gathered the samples on the table.
“Then the texts may not actually contradict one another.”
Lingyu understood.
“They may have used different materials.”
“Exactly.”
Mu Qinghe added:
“And different doses.”
Longyu nodded.
“And different methods.”
That could explain why some physicians considered it useful and others nearly worthless.
There was no standardization.
No origin control.
No common processing method.
No defined dosage.
Longyu wrote:
The problem may not be the substance.
It may be the method.
That same afternoon, Golden Crocodile arrived to take Jin Yue away.
Before leaving, he looked at the containers.
“Is that going to let her absorb an older ring?”
Longyu answered:
“I don’t know.”
Golden Crocodile nodded.
“Good.”
Longyu raised an eyebrow.
“Good?”
“If you had said yes after four days, I would have dragged you out of the laboratory.”
Jin Yue smiled.
“Can I hit him if he’s wrong?”
“No.”
“You never let me do anything.”
Golden Crocodile practically lifted her by the back of her clothes and started walking.
“We’re training.”
Jin Yue immediately stopped complaining.
Longyu watched them leave.
Then he looked at the Whale Glue.
Strengthening the body could not depend on a single substance.
That was another obvious conclusion.
Nutrition.
Training.
Recovery.
Medicine.
Circulation.
Whale Glue.
Everything had to work together.
Longyu wrote a new sentence.
Do not search for a miracle resource.
Build a system.
That felt far more correct.
By the end of the week, the Soul Beast lists had also improved.
Jin Yue had four primary candidates.
Luoyue, five.
Lingyu, four.
Renxue, six.
Still too many.
But now they had to leave the books behind.
Longyu remembered what had happened with the Ruinclaw.
An archive could tell you a great deal.
It never told you everything.
The next step would be obtaining field information.
And possibly meeting the creatures before deciding which one to kill.