Chapter 67: The Eccentric Elder Crane

A flicker of demonic fire vanished at the tip of his finger. Atop the verdant mountain peak, already shrouded in mist interwoven with sinister energies, no one could discern the sudden appearance of that trace of black flame.

They watched with wide eyes as the spectral image of the blue-backed serpent coiled around the black-spined dragon’s neck. Just as they believed the contest between dragon and serpent was about to reach its conclusion, the blue serpent flicked its tongue, raised its head high, and the swirling mist seemed to freeze in place.

A wild boar, ferocious; a serpent, savage.

It was as if a painting slowly shrank, imprinting itself upon the freshly forged, eerie green elixir.

Lacking a principal ingredient to subdue both beasts, Lin Ze simply chose to quell them by force. He reached out for the pill, joy flickering in his eyes.

He Lin withdrew his gaze, face expressionless, still finding the day’s events riddled with oddities.

Someone had pressed a Daoist sword atop the cauldron to stabilize it; someone else had inexplicably dispelled the demonic aura. Through this absurd commotion, the two of them had managed to refine a fourth-rank pill.

Of course, though he himself was a fourth-rank alchemist, that did not mean Lin Ze or Pan Yang possessed skills comparable to his.

He Lin would wager neither of them could even explain what effect this pill might have. Who would dare consume something with the mere appearance of a fourth-rank pill?

Lin Ze gave a couple of dry coughs. Much as he liked it, he certainly dared not take this pill.

Pan Yang, hands trembling with excitement despite being master of the mountain, carefully took the pill from him. “Old He has been refining pills for over a hundred years and never did better. Does this mean, working with Elder Lin, I am already a fourth-rank alchemist?!”

The other elders, snapping out of their shock, heard this and all frowned.

“Working together?”

“Weren’t you just minding the fire?”

Pan Yang’s face froze. He was about to boast of his foresight in adding a few extra herbs and arranging a few sword formations, when he saw He Lin put away his small cauldron and walk over.

He fixed his gaze on Lin Ze.

A long silence.

A deep breath. “Elder Lin, have you considered joining another sect?”

Before Lin Ze could reply, the rotund elder seized his hand tightly, his voice brimming three parts with pity and seven with delight as he stroked it and exclaimed, “These hands of yours, Elder Lin, were born for alchemy.”

A fourth-rank pill might be illusory, but with just a little guidance, within a few years at most, the Minor Pill Peak would boast another third-rank alchemist.

The future was bright indeed.

Perhaps even becoming a sixth-rank grandmaster like the founder was not out of reach.

Compared to such a prodigy, the child Elder Zhang cherished as if he were a treasure seemed quite ordinary.

A shudder ran down Lin Ze’s arm, goosebumps rising inexplicably. Enduring his discomfort, he withdrew his hand and silently regarded the portly elder.

Is that the only thing you all know how to say?

Elder Zhang swallowed hard—look at that shamelessness! He couldn’t even bring himself to ask for a disciple, while Old He was brazenly trying to steal away the peak master.

Pan Yang reached out to touch He Lin’s forehead, puzzled. “You don’t seem feverish…”

What a joke to make in broad daylight.

The other elders were equally bemused. Lin Ze claimed never to have studied alchemy—but that was impossible to verify, and hardly certain. Old He seemed a bit too stirred up.

None of them knew He Lin had been watching closely from the start. Of all the herbs Lin Ze used—apart from that coldstone core—every single one was listed in the Longevity Pill Codex. Even when other, similar ingredients were at hand, he ignored them.

This showed that his understanding of medicinal properties came entirely from the jade slip He Lin had gifted him days earlier.

Alchemy, in the end, was nothing more than understanding medicine, proportions, timing, and the reinforcement of one’s cultivation.

Even if Lin Ze had never studied formulas, his ability to recognize and use herbs was a talent seen only once in centuries.

“What’s happening?” Xiao Bao asked, puzzled.

“That old man looks like he’s trying to trick Master into joining another sect…” Yang Mu, too, had never seen such a scene.

In the end, Lin Ze simply shook his head, bringing the farce to an end.

Pan Yang rolled his eyes, forcibly dragging away He Lin, who still wanted to plead his case. He returned the pill to Lin Ze with a broad grin.

“Brother Lin, I’ll come find you next time I want a pill refined!”

Having personally crafted a fourth-rank pill, he was now supremely confident in his sword-formation alchemy. Next time, he’d just need to prepare more Daoist swords.

The elders lingered on Green Mountain for several more days, bidding farewell atop the stone steps.

Old Zhang reluctantly patted Xiao Bao’s head. “Practice the palm technique I taught you—don’t slack off.”

The little one nodded quietly, not mentioning that he had already reached the minor mastery stage with that lower-grade technique.

Pan Yang glanced at Yang Mu, reminding him, “If you wish to learn the sword, a solid foundation is vital. Don’t chase after lofty skills before you’re ready.”

He took the opportunity to drag out the disappointed, pot-bellied He Lin.

“Still not willing to reconsider?” He Lin looked at Lin Ze, his heart unsettled.

Lin Ze could only sigh helplessly.

Seeing this, He Lin heaved a deep sigh and produced a bottle of pills. “Here are four Dragonbone Pills. Do not refuse. They are the prize for the winner of the Alchemy Gathering.”

The other elders watched him with amusement. Who would have thought the old man would one day be left speechless in the field of alchemy?

Just as they were about to take their leave, He Lin produced yet more items from his storage pouch.

“This is the Fortune Pill Codex, counterpart to the Longevity Pill Codex and foundational to Minor Pill Peak. It focuses on cultivation—read it in your leisure.”

“Here are also copies of a few formulas from my collection, all fine recipes. Take them.”

“This was the cauldron I used before becoming an elder. Though not a spirit cauldron, it is an excellent vessel. When you’re not training, try your hand at alchemy—it’s good for the mind and body.”

“And these as well…”

The elders exchanged glances, and seeing that He Lin was still intent on producing more herbs, hurried to restrain him and drag him down the mountain, forcing awkward smiles.

“Apologies, Elder Lin.”

“Do come visit Minor Pill Peak—it's not far—”

He Lin struggled, waving his hand with tears streaming down his face. “You must come!”

Lin Ze looked at the massive cauldron before him, feeling a sudden headache.

It was a pity he truly wasn’t an alchemy prodigy. He still remembered, in his first simulation, how the Daoist had spent three whole years without managing to produce even the lowest, first-rank pill.

Besides, he truly had no interest in this path—no doubt disappointing the old man.

What Lin Ze didn’t expect was that, as soon as they reached the foot of the mountain, He Lin’s expression changed entirely, and he began chuckling slyly.

“Failed to take a disciple and lost your wits in the process?” Pan Yang teased.

“I gave him my cauldron and pill recipes… In your place, could you resist?” He Lin’s eyes glinted cunningly. The thrill and suspense of opening that furnace—few could resist it.

Once Elder Lin began studying alchemy, he was sure to encounter difficulties. Oh yes, indeed.