After briefing Chenhan, Yan Mingqiu entered the apothecary that very evening to begin his closed-door seclusion.
Replicating the patriarch’s steps from memory, he began selecting spiritual plants, processing them, igniting the flame, and refining pills.
Beyond meticulously selecting top-tier spiritual plants as raw materials, the quality of a medicinal pill hinges primarily on the caliber of the alchemy flame and the cauldron used.
Possessing a heavenly-grade fire spiritual root, Yan Mingqiu was capable of exercising exquisite control over his flame, maintaining a steady temperature and pure output which was precisely why he had never once suffered a cauldron explosion.
As for his cauldron, he was currently using the very same one he had encountered upon first embracing a furnace and meeting the patriarch: a personal relic of the founding patriarch himself, bearing the name Stellar Cauldron.
The moment Yan Mingqiu stepped into the apothecary to enter seclusion, Immortal Yunshang erected a protective barrier around the building, barring anyone from disturbing him.
This barrier kept out those wishing to pay a visit and also masked the aroma of the pills. Consequently, no one had any inkling of what grade of pills Yan Mingqiu was managing to refine during his retreat.
Days bled into one another, and soon the day of Yan Mingqiu’s emergence arrived.
Early in the morning, Immortal Yunshang, Chenhan, and Mu Jiusi were already waiting outside the apothecary doors.
As Yan Mingqiu stepped out, the three individuals all of whom possessed higher cultivation than him instantly perceived his current realm: he had advanced all the way to the early Foundation Establishment stage.
Vaulting straight from the mid-stage of Qi Condensation to the early Foundation Establishment stage in the span of just one month this god-like progression left both Chenhan and Mu Jiusi dumbfounded for quite a spell.
Yun Feng, however, seemed to find it well within expectations. He stepped forward and clapped Yan Mingqiu on the shoulder. “You’ve worked hard. Get a good night’s rest tonight, and tomorrow, put on a stellar performance in your match. Master believes in you. Everyone from our Yucang Peak has always been peerless within the same realm, capable of challenging opponents of higher tiers a mere peak Foundation Establishment cultivator, just two minor realms ahead of you, is nothing to worry about.”
Mu Jiusi: “…”
Any trace of lingering anxiety in Chenhan’s expression melted away at Yun Feng’s words, replaced by a bright smile. “Mingqiu, you’re amazing.”
At that moment, Chenhan was still battling a wave of remorse. Why couldn’t he have kept his temper in check back then instead of lashing out at Lin Pu? Just because Lin Pu called him a demon, he had harbored such intense hostility? What on earth was his deep-seated grievance with demons, anyway? Why couldn’t he remember a single thing?
Observing the fatigue and dark circles under the eyes of both Yun Feng and Chenhan, Yan Mingqiu felt a pang of guilt for having worried them so.
Meanwhile, what Yun Feng and Chenhan had spent the past month doing was entirely different: Working sleeplessly for a whole month, we finally finished digging the escape tunnel! Never mind any ancient barriers you can control the heavens and earth, but you sure didn’t expect us to tunnel straight underneath the Duel Stage, hehe~
Late into the night, Yan Mingqiu pulled Chenhan up to the Moon-Embracing Pavilion at the peak of Yucang Peak to drink wine and gaze at the moon. Yan Mingqiu was a remarkably sensitive soul in short, an overthinker.
Tomorrow was his debut on the Duel Stage, and a flutter of nervous tension had settled into his chest. Fearing he might suffer from insomnia tonight, he decided a bit of alcohol might coax him into a sound sleep.
The two sat facing each other across a white jade table, each holding a flask and drinking under the moonlight.
Vaguely, a memory drifted into his mind: when Lin Pu had accused Chenhan of being a demon, Chenhan’s reaction had seemed excessively violent.
Prompted by the thought, he asked Chenhan, “Do you… really hate demons that much?”
“Of course I do. Demons prey on human vital energy, slaughter the innocent, and commit every imaginable evil. They deserve to be executed by everyone. Besides, we are practitioners of the Dao; safeguarding the mortal world and slaying demons should be treated as our bounden duty.”
Yan Mingqiu’s expression shifted slightly. “What if the demon has never consumed human vital energy and has never harmed anyone?”
“Impossible. There is no such thing as a demon like that.” Chenhan stared at him with a puzzled frown. “Did you run into some demonic entity trying to trick you with honeyed words? Demons are deceitful and cunning to the core you must never trust a demon.”
“N—no, not at all. I just suddenly thought of the question, so I asked,” Yan Mingqiu muttered, taking a sip from his flask. “Suppose just suppose you encountered such a demon, would you strike him down?”
“Slay… a demon?”
Abruptly, several fragmented images flashed through Chenhan’s mind.
In the visions, flames blazed across the sky, while weeping and cries for help rose in an endless chorus. Following the sounds of agony, half-grown children knelt beside their bleeding, lifeless mothers; a middle-aged man stood shield-like before his wife, both pierced through the chest by a single sword, their eyes wide with un-resigned death…
In the sky, a dozen golden-winged roc demons soared low, clutching longswords as they massacred without discrimination. In no time at all, corpses littered the earth.
A splitting headache slammed into Chenhan. He bolted upright to his feet. “I would! All demons deserve to die! They deserve to be slaughtered! I will kill them all!”
Seeing Chenhan gripped by such extreme agitation his brows knitted in agonizing distress Yan Mingqiu swiftly raised a hand and cast a calming sleep spell directly into his mind.
Chenhan’s eyes fluttered shut instantly as his body collapsed to the side.
Moving with practiced agility, Yan Mingqiu caught him and pulled him into his arms. Looking down at the peaceful yet still deeply furrowed brow of the sleeping youth, a complex storm of emotions stirred in his eyes.
“If one day you find out I am a demon… will you kill me?”
That night, Yan Mingqiu lay awake until dawn. It turned out that drowning sorrows in alcohol didn’t cure insomnia after all.
The following day, the Duel Stage was packed shoulder-to-shoulder, the spectator stands capable of seating tens of thousands completely filled to capacity.
When Yan Mingqiu stepped onto the platform sporting a prominent pair of dark circles under his eyes, Lin Pu burst into raucous laughter. “What’s this? Did you stay awake all night trembling with terror? If you drop to your knees right now and beg for mercy, I might just show some magnanimity and spare your life.”
So utterly confident was Lin Pu that he couldn’t even be bothered to waste energy probing his opponent’s cultivation level.
Turning a deafening ear to the taunts, Yan Mingqiu walked straight over to his designated table. The long wooden surface was laden with a diverse array of spiritual plants and auxiliary alchemy ingredients.
Two long tables stood facing each other across the open expanse, and right in the center of the intervening space lay a massive carved relief depicting a phoenix rising from the ashes, reborn through fire.
Realizing his mockery was falling on deaf ears, Lin Pu snorted in annoyance and marched to his own table. Right in the middle of his workspace sat a life-and-death waiver document.
Presiding over the match was the First Elder.
“Competitors, take your positions and sign the life-and-death waivers,” the First Elder announced, his voice amplified by sound-transmission arts to echo clearly across the entire arena, ensuring every spectator caught every word.
Moving with brisk efficiency, Lin Pu picked up his brush and dashed off his signature in one fluid motion.
Yan Mingqiu picked up the wolf-hair brush, his eyes scanning the clauses on the waiver document line by line.
Visibly losing patience, Lin Pu urged him impatiently, “Are you going to sign or not?”
Lifting the parchment, Yan Mingqiu read aloud: “Any consequences arising directly or indirectly from the duel—including death, impairment of cultivation, or dismemberment—shall be voluntarily borne in full by both participating parties, and neither party may lodge claims for compensation or seek retaliation of any kind.”
“This clause here—do you understand what it implies?” Yan Mingqiu asked, looking up at Lin Pu.
“Stop spouting nonsense! Do you take me for an idiot? I’ve signed waivers like this countless times before; this is clearly your first rodeo, isn’t it?”
“Good to know. Just don’t go crying and screaming foul later,” Yan Mingqiu said as he stroke his name onto the parchment.
With a sweep of the First Elder’s horsetail whisk, the two signed waivers drifted up toward him. Pocketing the documents, he declared, “The duel begins. Release the barrier!”
At a sign from the three elders, three spiritual keys soared upward into the airspace above the Duel Stage.
Empowered by the keys, the lifelike phoenix relief at the center of the platform suddenly sprang into animate motion. A blinding beam of golden light erupted from its beak, shooting straight up into the high air before scattering outward to knit themselves into a shimmering, golden dome that sealed the entire platform tight.
An alchemist duel differed distinctly from other disciplines. While sword cultivators, talisman crafters, and artifact masters dove straight into physical combat the moment the bell rang, alchemists opened their bouts with pill refinement. Whoever produced the superior medicinal pill earned the right to land a direct strike on their opponent.
The First Elder announced the first topic: “Return-Origin Pill. Time limit: three sticks of incense.”
The Return-Origin Pill was a common grade of medicinal pill designed to rapidly replenish spiritual energy for a practitioner whose reserves were fully exhausted.
Lin Pu sneered. “Too easy. Whatever I brew is guaranteed to be grade five or above.”
Medicinal pill grades spanned from the first to the ninth grade, followed by supreme-grade and heavenly-grade tiers. Supreme-grade pills could only be crafted by sect leaders and elders, while heavenly-grade pills were practically unheard of in the mortal world.
Typically, the highest grade a Foundation Establishment cultivator could hope to churn out was fifth-grade, whereas Qi Condensation cultivators could manage at most a second-grade pill.
Smug satisfaction radiating from every pore, Lin Pu retrieved an alchemy cauldron from his storage pouch a parting gift bestowed upon him by his master, Immortal Zhulan. Dubbed the Purple-Gold Cauldron, its body was cast in a rich purplish-red hue imbued with a faint golden sheen.
Yan Mingqiu pulled out his own cauldron in turn. Its appearance was remarkably unadorned to sum it up in one word: black. Two words: pitch-black.
In short, it looked like a totally unremarkable, blackened pot.
Lin Pu let out a snort of derision. “Did you raid your backyard and bring out your family’s chamber pot?”
Giving Lin Pu a sideways glance, Yan Mingqiu retorted, “Keep those dog eyes of yours wide open and watch, I’m about to blind you.”
With that, Yan Mingqiu channeled his spiritual energy into the Stellar Cauldron. The previously unremarkable cauldron seemed instantly jolted awake, bursting into a brilliant, dazzling radiance.
The surface of the pitch-black vessel transformed as though reflecting a cascading galaxy, points of starlight dancing across its body and weaving together into a vast, boundless expanse of the starry night sky.