"Master Gu Ni, observe freely. If my clumsy technique can offer you some enlightenment, perhaps my Master would even praise me for spreading the Dao."
Gu Ni looked at the youth, his eyes shimmering with genuine emotion. His hands trembled slightly inside his sleeves. "Brother Chen Yang... your breadth of mind shames this Old Man. In this world, most Masters would kill their own disciples for stealing a glance at their secret arts, yet you offer it to a stranger?"
In truth, Chen Yang had no such noble intentions. His calculation was precise, cold, and mercenary. The System's logic was absolute: his rank was determined by the "Highest Ranking" individual in the domain. Currently, Gu Ni was the ceiling. If Gu Ni remained a Tier 2 Alchemist, Chen Yang would be capped at Tier 3. But if Gu Ni could gain enlightenment from this session and breakthrough to Tier 3, the System would inevitably push Chen Yang to Tier 4.
'I am not teaching you,' Chen Yang thought, a hidden smile touching his lips as he gazed at the eager old man. 'I am farming you. You are my experience points.'
Chen Yang sat cross-legged on the floor, flicking his wrist. A heavy, resonant thud vibrated through the floorboards as his own cauldron materialized from the storage ring.
It was a magnificent vessel, forged from Crimson Spirit Iron, standing half a man's height. Its surface was not smooth but etched with intricate fire-cloud patterns that seemed to writhe and shift in the dim light of the room. Three dragon heads served as the ventilation ports, their maws gaping open as if ready to devour the heavens.
"The Crimson Furnace..." Gu Ni whispered, his voice hoarse with longing. He recognized the quality immediately. "This... this is a Peak Tier 3 Cauldron. It naturally suppresses the violent nature of fire-attribute ingredients. Just touching it would increase a refiner's success rate by thirty percent!"
"Watch closely," Chen Yang whispered. His demeanor shifted instantly. The playful, carefree youth vanished, replaced by a grandmaster whose focus was sharp as a polished blade. The atmosphere in the room tightened, the air becoming heavy with intent.
He placed his right hand on the fire inlet of the cauldron.
"Ignite!"
Whoosh!
A crimson flame erupted within the furnace. It did not flicker wildly like a common wood fire; it roared with the suppressed fury of a volcano, yet danced with the grace of a spirit snake. The temperature in the room skyrocketed, beads of sweat instantly forming on Gu Ni's forehead, yet the heat was entirely contained within the vessel—a testament to terrifying control.
'This is... Dou Qi Flame Transformation,' Gu Ni analyzed, his heart racing against his ribs. 'But the density... it is almost liquid. It flows like blood, thick and potent. This is the hallmark of a Cultivation Technique at the High Xuan Class or above! Only such a foundation can support this level of consumption.'
On this continent, Alchemists valued their formulas and flame control techniques more than their own lives. Although the Qi Recovery Pill was a common medicine, every master had a unique rhythm, a "Fingerprint of the Soul" that defined their work. Gu Ni's teacher had passed away years ago; his progress had stalled due to a lack of guidance. He had been stumbling in the dark for a decade, hitting the invisible wall of his own talent. Now, a lantern had been lit before him.
Moved beyond words, Gu Ni rushed to the door, his movements frantic. He threw it open and barked at the guards. "Guards! Seal the corridor! Let no one disturb us—not even the Manager! If a fly enters this room, I will have your heads!"
After ensuring the perimeter was locked down, he returned, standing respectfully to the side, his back bent, his hands clasped—the posture of a humble apprentice attending a lecture of the Great Dao.
Chen Yang did not acknowledge him. He was fully immersed in the Crimson Flame Scripture. Although a Tier 3 Alchemist could not yet manipulate the Essence Flames of heaven and earth, his system-granted proficiency meant his control over his own Dou Qi fire was absolute. It was not just skill; it was an instinct, engraved into his very soul by the System.
With a wave of his sleeve, the ingredients Gu Ni had provided—Star Spirit Grass, Blood Lotus Leaf, and a Rank 2 Magic Core—levitated into the air, suspended by his Soul Perception.
"Refining implies purification," Chen Yang murmured, his voice echoing slightly in the silent room, sounding like a chant. "The common mistake is to melt the herb. The Master does not melt; he extracts. Observe the veins of the leaf."
He flicked a finger. The Star Spirit Grass shot into the crimson inferno.
Sizzle.
Instead of burning to ash, the grass withered instantly, its physical structure collapsing under the precise assault of the heat. A droplet of emerald green liquid, glowing with starlight, hovered in the center of the flame, rotating rapidly.
Gu Ni watched, mesmerized. 'He is using the flame to peel the skin of the herb without damaging the medicinal veins... Such delicate control requires a Soul Perception of the Mortal State's peak! If I had attempted this, the grass would be ash in a breath.'
Chen Yang did not rush. His movements were fluid, precise, and rhythmic, like a conductor leading a silent orchestra. He fed the herbs one by one, separating the essences—the vibrant green of the grass, the deep crimson of the lotus, and finally, the violent blue energy of the Magic Core.
When the Magic Core entered the flames, it shrieked—a high-pitched sound of escaping energy. The beast's residual will fought against the refinement.
"Submit," Chen Yang commanded softly. His soul force crashed down like a hammer. The blue energy shuddered and collapsed, turning into a docile stream of liquid.
To Gu Ni's eyes, this was not the work of a novice. It was the performance of a veteran who had spent decades immersed in the Dao of Fire, smelling the acrid smoke of failure until only perfection remained. He saw the gaps in his own knowledge being filled, the mistakes he had made for years suddenly glaringly obvious.
'Terrifying... truly a disciple of a hidden Grandmaster,' Gu Ni thought, sweat dripping into his eyes, stinging them, but he refused to blink. He tried to imprint every fluctuation, every hand seal, into his memory. He felt a barrier in his own mind—the bottleneck that had held him at Tier 2 for years—beginning to crack under the pressure of this revelation.
"Fusion," Chen Yang commanded.
This was the most dangerous step. The violent energy of the Magic Core resisted the gentle healing properties of the herbs. If the balance tipped by a hair's breadth, the cauldron would explode, and the backlash could cripple a soul.
Chen Yang's Soul Perception surged out, invisible ripples distorting the air in the room. He wrapped his will around the liquid essences, forcing them to spin, to blend, to become one.
"Condense!"
The flames surged, turning from crimson to a blinding white for a fraction of a second. The impurities were incinerated into black smoke that vented from the cauldron's dragon-mouths, filling the room with a scent of burnt dust before being replaced by a sweet aroma.
Ding.
A crisp, melodious sound rang out, like a silver hammer striking a jade bell. The fire died instantly, the silence returning to the room with sudden weight.
A single round pill, emerald green and swirling with a faint crimson mist, flew out of the cauldron. It hovered for a moment before descending gently into Chen Yang's outstretched palm. It was still warm, pulsating with a faint rhythm.
The room was filled with a rich, refreshing medicinal fragrance. Just inhaling it cleared Gu Ni's mind and eased the fatigue in his bones.
"Success... on the first attempt?" Gu Ni gasped, stepping forward involuntarily, his eyes fixed on the pill as if it were the most beautiful woman in the world. "And the quality... the medicinal patterns are distinct. High-grade! This is a High-grade Tier 3 Pill! Even among Tier 3 Alchemists, few can produce such purity!"
"Luck," Chen Yang said with a humble smile, though his eyes remained calm and unreadable. He walked over and placed the pill in Gu Ni's trembling hand. "Master Gu Ni, may this serve as payment for the ingredients? I fear I have used your hospitality to practice my hand."
"Brother Chen Yang jests!" Gu Ni shook his head violently, his face flushed with excitement. He looked at the pill, then closed his hand tight around it. "I have already received the grace of observation. The enlightenment I gained today is worth ten thousand gold! I feel the threshold of Tier 3 calling to me. To take the pill for free would destroy my Dao Heart. I will purchase this at the market price!"
Gu Ni fumbled with his storage ring, producing a card shimmering with purple-gold light. "This is a Five-Pattern Purple Gold Card. It represents the highest VIP status of the Mittel Auction House. It contains 60,000 gold coins. Please, Brother Chen Yang, do not refuse. If you refuse, I will have no face to ask for your guidance in the future!"
Chen Yang feigned hesitation, weighing the card in his hand. It was cool to the touch, heavy with the promise of resources. "Since Master Gu Ni insists, I would be hypocritical to refuse."
He tucked the card into his sleeve. '60,000 gold coins...' Chen Yang mused internally. In Wutan City, where a common family lived on ten gold coins a month, this was a king's ransom. Yet for a Tier 2 Alchemist, it was merely the cost of doing business. The economy of the Cultivation World was truly broken for the strong.
"Brother Chen Yang, the refinement has surely taxed your spirit," Gu Ni said, his solicitude bordering on reverence. He treated Chen Yang not as a junior, but as an ancestor. "I will arrange for a bath and fresh clothes immediately. Then, I shall introduce you to the Chief Manager of our Auction House. She handles the business; I am merely a pill-forger."
"That would be appreciated," Chen Yang nodded. "I am indeed dusty."
Gu Ni hurried out to make arrangements, barking orders at the guards with renewed vigor.
Left alone in the quiet room, Chen Yang sat back in the chair, his expression shifting from polite warmth to cold calculation. He tapped his finger on the armrest rhythmically.
'I cannot leave Wutan City until Xiao Yan departs. The System is bound to his location. Until the plot progresses, I am anchored here.'
'However, opportunities are approaching. The auction of the High Xuan Class Wind Sweep Technique is coming. Once that appears, the System will register it as the highest technique... and grant me a Low Di Class Technique.'
'And when Xiao Yan learns Eight Extremes Collapse from Yao Lao, the System will register a High Xuan Combat Skill... granting me a Low Di Class Combat Skill.'
He closed his eyes, visualizing the chessboard of Wutan City.
'I cannot simply wait for the plot to happen. I must accelerate the variables. If I train Gu Ni to reach Tier 3, the System will register a new Highest Ranking Alchemist... and promote me to Tier 4. If I aid Xiao Zhan in breaking through to a higher star level, or perhaps even the Dou Ling realm, my cultivation will rise accordingly.'
A subtle, dangerous smile played on his lips. "Since there are no experts in this newbie village, I shall simply manufacture them. I will drag this entire city's power level up, just so I can stand on their shoulders."