Chapter Ninety-One: Winds Stir from All Quarters

At dawn the next morning, a message that shook all directions spread out from Crimson Pine Temple.

Two days later, atop Crimson Pine Mountain, True Person Jade Morning would hold a Grand Elixir Assembly, inviting all fellow practitioners to come to Crimson Pine Temple to discuss the Way and taste elixirs.

Once this news was released, it immediately caused an uproar among the cultivators gathered for the fellowship fair.

What was a Grand Elixir Assembly?

Burn incense to summon immortal guests, taste elixirs, and discourse on longevity.

According to ancient custom, one must light the welcoming spiritual incense a day in advance and invite all fellow Daoists to come taste elixirs and discuss the Dao. Moreover, at the banquet, each guest had to taste at least one spirit pill for it to truly merit the name of Grand Elixir Assembly.

Otherwise, it could only be called a small elixir viewing gathering, and not by the grand title of Grand Elixir Assembly.

In antiquity, when spiritual energy was abundant, such grand gatherings were not uncommon, held for discourse on the Way or to celebrate birthdays. Cultivators who attended would generally bring medicinal herbs, spirit fruit, or other gifts of congratulations when paying their respects.

But as the world’s spiritual energy gradually waned, gatherings of this sort had vanished forever. Even the ordinary small elixir gatherings among cultivators no longer existed.

Nowadays, cultivators regarded spirit pills as more precious than life itself, and treated spiritual herbs like treasures. They would never easily reveal them, let alone take them out to share with other fellow Daoists.

In such an environment, how could anyone not be stirred when someone suddenly announced a grand elixir gathering?

There were those who doubted it, and those who scoffed.

But more of the itinerant cultivators and extraordinary folk looked forward to it with great eagerness. After all, with their cultivation, the chance of obtaining spirit pills at the fellowship fair was vanishingly small.

Better to try their luck at Crimson Pine Temple; perhaps they might even trade for some good things.

...

Guzhou, Pill Cauldron Mountain.

Between the pavilions and halls with blue eaves and green tiles, a middle-aged Daoist with a pale face and no beard stood before a pill furnace, his gaze fixed tightly on several spirit pills rising and sinking within it.

At his side, two attendant Dao boys each wielded a fan of iron leaves and plantain leaves, continually fanning air and feeding the flames in the furnace. Though sweat poured from them in the heat, they dared not slack off in the slightest.

Those who had dared to slack off had long since turned to fly ash within the furnace before their very eyes.

As the pale-faced Daoist formed a pill seal with his hands, the lid of the three-legged pill cauldron flew apart with a thunderous crash. Jets of black vapor gushed out at once, filling the entire alchemy chamber.

The Daoist’s expression darkened. Another batch ruined!

"You useless fools! You cannot even fan properly. What use are you to this poor Daoist!"

With a gloomy face, he kicked one of the Dao boys down with each foot.

Though he knew full well that this ruined batch had nothing to do with the two boys before him, it was only their bad luck to be on duty in the alchemy chamber at the wrong time!

Yet he did not even need to punish them personally. Under the spread of pill poison and toxic fumes within the chamber, the two Dao boys were soon foaming at the mouth and collapsed unconscious.

The pill poison created when an immortal elixir failed in refinement was terrifying beyond measure, far beyond what two Dao boys at the Qi Meridian stage could resist.

The disciples waiting outside heard the disturbance and immediately came in to drag the two unconscious boys away. Then, covering their mouths and noses with wet cloths, they swiftly cleaned up the furnace with practiced efficiency.

After replacing the two, two new unlucky fellows were shoved in to fill the vacant posts of the fire-fanning boys.

One of those dressed in a servant Dao robe was Zhao Fan.

He looked at the two boys who had been poisoned into unconsciousness and felt a pang of shared misfortune, unable to keep from silently lamenting his own fate.

Within these two days, the on-duty Dao boys in the alchemy chamber had died one after another, some blown to pieces by exploding furnaces, some suffocated by the poisonous smoke of ruined pills. Others had simply been thrown into the furnace itself.

He had originally wanted to seize an opportunity to slip away in secret, but who could have guessed that before he managed to leave, he had already been seized and dragged here to serve as a fire-fanning boy.

At this point, there was nothing he could do but submit. So he obediently stood before the furnace, holding a fan, and watched as Daoist Hu Sheng continued to open the furnace and refine pills.

As disciples entered in an orderly stream, each holding a jade tray and carrying spiritual herbs, the chamber was soon filled with the unique fragrance of medicinal plants.

Yet when Daoist Hu Sheng saw this, he only frowned and asked coldly, "Why is there so little spiritual medicine?"

The disciples who had delivered the herbs hurriedly fell to their knees and answered, "Reporting to the Sect Master, after you repeatedly opened the furnace to refine pills these past two days, all the herbs within the sect have been used up. This is already the last of them!"

Upon hearing this, Hu Sheng’s brows knit deeply. He had not expected that two days and nights of nonstop alchemy would have nearly exhausted every last herb.

He rose and inspected the herbs in the chamber. There was still enough to refine one more furnace of pills, though it was admittedly somewhat tight.

There were still four days until the fellowship fair. This batch of spirit pills would already be sufficient to exchange for quite a bit of resources.

If he could obtain some five-element spiritual materials, that would naturally be best of all. By then, he could directly trade with the Cult of No Life for herbs or foundation-building secret methods.

That state preceptor was somewhat unfathomable, but he had always been generous. So long as one was willing to work for him, he was never stingy with rewards, even if one was not among his own people.

Thinking of this, he nodded and said, "In that case, let us refine one final furnace!"

Zhao Fan’s face fell. He had thought he had escaped disaster, but unexpectedly he still could not get away from this bitter labor.

With a sigh in his heart, he could only pick up the iron fan once more and begin fanning cool air into the pill furnace.

The blazing cauldron seared the entire chamber. The orange-red pill fire seemed to scorch and warp the sight before his eyes.

As he fanned, he watched every movement of Daoist Hu Sheng.

One after another, the spiritual herbs, after only slight refinement, were thrown into the furnace, borrowing the pill flame within to force out their medicinal essence.

Though Hu Sheng stood by, forming seals to guide the process, these herbs of differing properties seemed forcibly fused together, unstable to an extreme, as if they might erupt at any moment.

But Zhao Fan frowned at the sight. Though he had never refined pills himself, his instincts told him something was wrong. Alchemy should not be done this way!

Yet as a mere servant disciple, what right had he to speak?

He could only continue praying inwardly to all the gods and Buddhas that Hu Sheng would not make any mistake, or the one who would suffer would be him.

And yet his prayers seemed to avail him nothing. The flames in the furnace suddenly trembled violently, as though some fierce reaction were taking place inside.

Daoist Hu Sheng’s expression changed abruptly. His hand signs grew faster and faster, and his spiritual power surged outward as he tried to stabilize the furnace.

But even after exerting every means at his disposal, he still could not reverse the present situation. Inside the furnace, the spirit pills had reached their final transformation.

At this moment, a single misstep would mean the furnace exploding outright.

A cold chill swept through Zhao Fan’s heart. He had heard of the terror of an exploding furnace; with his meager cultivation, he would surely die without a doubt.

Hu Sheng’s face had already turned hideous beyond measure.

With the explosion imminent, he had no time to care for anything else and immediately retreated in haste, not caring at all whether the two servant disciples before the furnace lived or died.

The other servant disciple, now staring at the violently trembling furnace, wore an expression of utter terror. He threw down his fan and bolted for the door.

Zhao Fan had also wanted to flee, but in the next instant a figure flashed past him. The disciple who had been running away was kicked square in the chest by Daoist Hu Sheng, screaming as he flew backward, his bones shattered, before collapsing limply to the ground.

At that moment, a trace of despair rose in Zhao Fan’s heart as well.

The furnace was about to explode, and he could not get out. There was no road before him or behind him, only death!

Just as he closed his eyes to await his end, a voice suddenly sounded in his ear: "Take the spiritual water in the gourd on the ground and splash it into the furnace through the Wind position!"

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