Returning to the shelter of the abandoned house, Wan Lihan set the bronze refining furnace onto the stone hearth. He carefully laid out the harvested Earth-Blood Weed, Sun-Burst Leaves, and Silver-Mist Vines.Following the alchemy manual's illustrations, he prepared to refine his first healing pill.
Because his 2nd Layer Qi was far too weak to manifest a core spiritual flame, he packed the base of the furnace with dry wood and glowing coals, igniting a mundane fire to provide the heat. Once the bronze chamber grew hot, Lihan extended his hands, attempting to channel his thin Qi threads into the vents to regulate the temperature.Puff.
A thick cloud of black soot coughed out of the vents. The temperature had fluctuated too violently, instantly burning the ingredients into useless ash. Lihan’s expression remained flat.
He didn't let the failure deter him.Using the remaining spiritual plants he had left, he wiped the furnace clean and tried again. This time, his calculating mind adapted. He tracked the boiling juices of the herbs with extreme care, gently guiding his Qi threads to stabilize the heat.
After an hour of intense focus, a faint, medicinal aroma drifted from the lid. He opened the chamber to find a perfectly formed, low-grade healing pill resting at the bottom.After consuming his leftover boar meat and drinking fresh water from the stream, Lihan sat cross-legged on the floorboards.
He opened his primary cultivation manual, closed his eyes, and began to nourish his core cultivation, slowly drawing the world's spiritual energy into his veins to heal his lingering internal injuries.The small, rotting house had officially become his private sanctuary.
A rigorous, solitary cycle began. Every three days, Lihan would venture out on foot into the dense forest paths to hunt wild game, gather more spiritual vegetation, and practice his physical martial arts. He swung his rusted iron blade thousands of times against the oak trees, grounding his muscle memory in fluid, close-range sword forms since his Qi Cleansing realm did not allow him to launch or fly on weapons.
Two years bled together in perfect, uninterrupted isolation.By the time the two-year mark passed, the changes to his body were staggering. The emaciated, bone-skinny slave boy had completely vanished. Nourished by a steady diet of meat and stabilized Qi, his physical frame had completely healed.
His height had shot up significantly, making him a lean, strong 183cm tall. Now seventeen years old, his gaze was as sharp and unyielding as flint, his quiet presence holding the calm danger of a seasoned rogue cultivator