Chapter 29: Alchemy

Realgar, cinnabar, orpiment, alum, malachite, and an ancient bronze cauldron.

In cultivation, one must consider “wealth, companion, method, and place.” With the help of Qiqin Yicha, these small ingredients were gathered in less than half a day. The most difficult to obtain was the cassia wood; the Palka team had to cut down a decorative cassia tree on-site just to have enough fuel for refining the elixir.

Now everything was ready. All materials needed for refining the “Foundation Establishment Pill” were laid out on the balcony, waiting only for the furnace to be lit.

The afternoon sun shone directly overhead, the hottest time of day. Yet, strong winds swept across the rooftop balcony—these fierce gusts dispelled the stifling heat and brought with them the desert’s distinctive dry scent.

“Well then, let’s begin.”

Shang Luo took a deep breath and first scanned his surroundings with his divine sense.

On the empty balcony, he sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion in the center. To his left were the crushed powders of realgar, cinnabar, orpiment, alum, and malachite, ground finely with a small steel grinder. To his right lay strips of freshly cut cassia wood, still fragrant, along with a small bamboo stirring blade.

Directly in front of him stood the furnace cauldron. This was the bronze cauldron bestowed upon the Maya city-state by the imperial court during its formal investiture. The Maya held the rank of feudal lord and were granted seven such cauldrons; this was one of those seven.

The cauldron measured 53.8 centimeters tall, 27.2 centimeters deep at the belly, 47 centimeters in diameter, and weighed 34.7 kilograms—an exact replica of the Mao Gong Ding, a famous unearthed artifact, complete with calligraphic inscriptions inside. This kind of cauldron reflected the trend in epigraphy and metallurgy at the court during that era, when recreating ancient bronze vessels was en vogue.

In general size, this cauldron was roughly the same as a large black cooking pot used in inns—only thicker and heavier.

Several centuries had passed since the original investiture. This bronze vessel, which should have gleamed with a golden hue, had become covered in a heavy layer of verdigris and rust due to neglect.

By rights, this cauldron was a precious relic, bearing both cultural and political significance. Losing the imperial decree was one matter—the decree might be entrusted to others—but to lose the cauldron symbolizing the divine mandate was a grave offense.

Yet to Shang Luo, this heavy vessel was no different from an ordinary pot to be set over a firewood pile.

All that remained was to ignite the flame.

Producing a windproof lighter, Shang Luo set fire to the tinder beneath the cauldron. Flames leapt up, the unseasoned cassia wood producing thick black smoke. Where the fire touched, centuries of verdigris blackened and flaked away, revealing the bright copper surface beneath.

Before he could consume the Foundation Establishment Pill and ascend to the “Innate” realm, Shang Luo resolved to restore this cauldron itself to its “Innate” state.

“Good, that’s about right.” Shang Luo began adding the first and most crucial ingredient: Hua Chi.

According to his earlier plan, he needed to infuse the cauldron with his own blood, imbued with spiritual energy, to serve as the “Hua Chi,” the receptacle for the pill’s medicinal properties.

However, he did not intend to open a wound on himself directly. The amount of blood required as a solvent was not a mere drop or two, but several hundred milliliters or more. Alchemy demands precise timing, and he could not drip blood in like brewing coffee.

Therefore, after breakfast, he had a doctor draw his blood and store it in a blood bag. The blood had been kept refrigerated until just now, still cold.

Using scissors, he cut open the blood bag and poured the entire 400 milliliters into the large cauldron.

The fire beneath was now a gentle simmer. The blood touching the cauldron’s interior did not boil, but the strong scent of iron rust began to steam up, and faint wisps of red vapor rose from the mixture.

Without pause, Shang Luo added the powdered realgar, cinnabar, orpiment, alum, and malachite—all the yellow, red, and blue powders—into the blood, then stirred the mixture with the bamboo blade.

The minerals blended with the fresh blood transformed rapidly into a deep red mineral paste. The cauldron suddenly boiled, releasing a mix of burnt and rusty odors, mingling with the acrid scent of burning cassia wood, assaulting the nostrils.

“Cough… cough, cough, cough!”

A coughing sound came from nearby.

“Hm?” Shang Luo was momentarily startled; it was not him coughing. He had anticipated this smell before refining and had donned a gas mask beforehand. “Is that you?”

“Do I have a nose?” came a voice.

“Who’s there? Wait... who’s over there?”

The empty balcony was deserted, but the cough clearly came from the front.

“It’s me.” Suddenly, a black hand appeared on the wall ahead. Then, a helmeted head emerged outside the balcony.

“Wen Baihu? What are you doing here?” Shang Luo immediately recognized him. This was Wen Yuan, the man who had driven him home that day and a disciple of Lu Huaiyang.

“Cough… hello.” Wen Yuan seemed a bit embarrassed and waved toward him.

“It’s him!” Apollonia became alert. “He also carries the aura of the Divine Mechanism! But he is not the original owner of that aura—it is borrowed! He is that Lu Huaiyang’s disciple!”

Apollonia’s alertness was extraordinary, for Lu Huaiyang was the most formidable opponent she had ever encountered. Anything related to Lu Huaiyang put her on the highest guard.

“I’ll stay silent for a while; I’m afraid he might detect me. You handle him; I’ll watch.”

“Do you have business with me?” Shang Luo asked, looking out into the hundred meters of open air beyond the balcony. A living person climbing up the outside of the building could not be here just to admire the view.

“May I come inside to talk first?” Before entering Shang Luo’s private space, Wen Yuan asked for permission.

Granted permission, he leapt over the railing and landed firmly on the balcony floor.

“Phew… actually, I’m a bit afraid of heights. It’s pretty scary out here.”

“I think you’re scarier! How did you get up here? Couldn’t you just take the stairs if you wanted to see me?”

“Those Maya people have me under surveillance in my room. Wherever I go, they follow. When I tried to come to your floor, they said I couldn’t enter without a keycard. So I had no choice but to climb up the outside of the building. Listen, Shang Luo, I have something important to tell you—you have to stop refining that pill.”

“Wait, you know I’m refining a pill?” Shang Luo finally realized these Jinyiwei were indeed cultivators—and not ordinary ones at that.

Finding someone who understood his craft, he hurriedly asked Wen Yuan, “Is there something wrong with my formula?”

“On the contrary—your formula is correct! That’s why I had to come up here to stop you. Shang Luo, you’re rushing too much. Alchemy is not done this way, nor should a cultivator have such a mindset. You need to first learn the mental methods and internal cultivation, to steadily stabilize your Dao foundation and Dao heart. Only when heaven and man are united, and you capture that single thread of creation’s breath, should you proceed to temper the Foundation Establishment Pill.”