The next day dawned clear and bright beneath the Golden Crow. A faint breeze stirred the clearing, carrying the damp mineral scent of the creek and the green fragrance of growing plants.
Going about his normal daily routine, Chún slowly realised that many of his usual chores had suddenly become unnecessary.
When he went to add Essence and water to his vegetable and Essence-herb plots, he discovered that the new Treasure-Ground Manifestation was already supplying a tremendous amount of Essence to the garden beds. The plants glowed faintly with vitality, their leaves trembling with slow motes of drifting light.
As for water, not only was the concentration of Water Essence in the clearing high enough—along with the other Elements—to produce bright blue Water motes drifting lazily through the air, he also spotted the tiny flying additions to the clearing hauling minute containers of water from the stream and carefully pouring them into the garden beds.
The little workers moved with a steady rhythm, the faint patter of water droplets and the whisper of their wings barely audible above the quiet murmur of the creek.
He did not need to hunt or search for new herbs to sell either.
That left collecting the overnight deposits from the saltpan, refilling it from the hot spring, and preparing more clay for additional pottery.
He needed some medium-sized storage pots. The smaller bowls he had been using to store salt and other minerals were almost full, and this time he wanted to make proper pots with lids to protect their contents from wind and damp.
After dealing with the saltpan—scraping the mineral crust from the warm obsidian surface and refilling the pan with steaming spring water—he headed leisurely for the creek, the damp soil cool beneath his bare feet.
"I am going to gather clay, my friend," he told the Mountain. "I need to make some basic pots with lids. Perhaps a few more bowls for food as well. Do you have any requests?"
"I would like us to make the cauldron we have been discussing," remarked his locus calmly. "The sooner we have that, the more time remains for you to learn the basics of medicine."
"If I make a cauldron today it will not be ready until tomorrow," Chún said thoughtfully as he stepped across the shallow creek, the cool water slipping around his ankles. "That leaves seven days to learn to make medicines. Is that enough time?"
"Some simple ones," the Mountain replied. A faint note of regret coloured the link. "I should have shown you how to make a basic decocting pot before now."
"Well, we can do both today," the young teen said reassuringly. "It may even be easier to begin with a decocting pot first."
He crouched beside the clay bank where the Essence density was highest, the earth there dark and cool beneath his fingers.
"Does the clay for the cauldron and the decocting pot need to be gathered using Essence, like the clay for Dao pots?"
The Mountain gave a low, interested hum.
"Why do you ask?"
"It seems to me that a proper decocting pot or cauldron would be Dao Treasures," Chún reasoned aloud as he rolled a smooth ball of clay between his palms. "So they must be able to support Dao patterns. That should work best if I gather and shape them using Essence."
"You are correct," his locus said approvingly. "I will show you how to shape the decocting pot and the cauldron with Essence illusions. Simply follow the guiding lines."
"Will I need to sculpt complicated designs into the cauldron?" Chún asked with some concern as he gathered another head-sized ball of clay.
The Mountain laughed softly through the link.
"No. True cauldrons—the ones prized by alchemists and recognised as genuine Dao Treasures—always begin completely plain. Their only unusual features are the openings that allow Essence to be injected into the vessel."
The silver-haired teen paused, clay in hand.
"Really? In the stories, Treasure Cauldrons always look elaborate."
"Yes. But only false cauldrons begin that way," the Mountain explained patiently. "Artisans make them look impressive from the beginning.
"A real Treasure Cauldron grows elaborate naturally over time as it is used to successfully concoct medicines. Its appearance changes as its Dao patterns develop.
"You may think of it as part of its cultivation."
Chún nodded slowly as he gathered another ball of clay.
"That… actually makes sense. In the stories, the best cauldrons often develop spirits." He hesitated. "Are they… like you?"
"Yes," the Mountain admitted. "If created and used correctly, a Dao Treasure will develop Dao patterns of increasing complexity until it eventually gains the ability to reason and cultivate deliberately.
"The oldest of them may even develop their own worlds, as I have."
"What about a decocting pot?" Chún asked. "Would the same thing happen?"
"It is not impossible," the Mountain replied. "But because such pots are smaller and exposed to weaker ingredients and flames, it is far less common. Unless they are made from exceptional materials or exposed to powerful Essence for long periods, smaller items rarely gain spirits."
Chún gathered the last ball of clay and stood.
"So what do I need to do?"
---
"Blood mint, water, five-colour honey, and blood ginseng," Chún recited as he trotted through the forest, moving easily through the branches he now knew as well as the paths of the clearing.
"Are you certain this prescription does not require the decocting pot or cauldron?"
"No," replied the Mountain. "It merely needs to be mixed and allowed to simmer over a gentle fire. You may as well do something productive while the clay stiffens."
"I remember you mentioning the creation of inheritances and resources…" the teen said somewhat nervously as he approached the Essence-touched bee hive he had discovered on his first day after awakening on the Mountain.
The hive hummed steadily with life, a deep droning vibration that filled the surrounding air.
"Relax," the Mountain soothed. "With your Cloak, the bees will not sting you.
"As for creating or changing the world—everything you have learned until now has been preparation for that. You have learned how to increase Essence in a local area. You have learned to manipulate the Elements with Essence—water, earth, fire…"
"When did I learn Element shaping?" Chún interrupted, stepping carefully toward the hive while his Cloak released slow billows of concealing mist.
"You manipulate clay, fire, and water with your Essence constantly," the Mountain pointed out. "You have also learned to alter the properties of existing things—ice-crack grass, concealment manifestations.
"You have advanced ordinary plants and items into Treasures and Essence herbs. You have even created minor Dao treasures.
"When these skills are combined, you can easily create a fortunate encounter—a hidden cave of a fallen cultivator, a thousand-year grass, minor Dao treasures."
"I see," Chún said slowly. "I do not know enough yet to create ancient weapons or mysterious inheritances, but you mean creating smaller fortunate chances—minor resources or replenished opportunities."
"Exactly."
He nodded, then turned his attention to the hive.
"Alright. How do I gather the honey?"
---
Chún returned to the clearing with two small pots full of ingredients.
The entire process had been remarkably easy.
The Essence mist of the Cloak prevented the bees from becoming agitated while quietly siphoning away a small portion of five-colour honey from the enormous hive. Because the hive was so large, even this tiny amount became a sizeable quantity of normally rare Essence-infused honey.
One pot held nearly a full sheng of honey by itself.
The other carried the remaining ingredients: blood mint leaves, fresh water, and the thick crimson root of blood ginseng.
The recent running battles in the forest had left many Essence plants soaking in the blood of slain Essence beasts. As a result, numerous herbs had advanced into rare blood variants, including the ginseng he had found along the way.
"I will make some fu pots," Chún decided as he set the ingredients beside the fire pit. "I can divide the honey between them to sell along with the salt and minerals.
"I will also add some excess vegetables from my garden so it is less obvious that I have so many Essence herbs."
"You realise," the Mountain remarked mildly, "that if you sell all these items, you will be reasonably wealthy?"
"I will probably buy any low-level weapons I can find," Chún mused. "Any martial techniques or formations. Perhaps some plants or spices that do not grow up here.
"Maybe even sheep or goats for wool and milk. Chickens for eggs."
He glanced toward the Heaven and Earth Vine.
"Would she mind if they grazed in the clearing?"
"Any ordinary animals brought here will not remain ordinary for long if they survive," warned the Mountain. "But I will ask her.
"Why would you want Consumer martial techniques? If such things can even be found in the village."
"I was thinking about what you said earlier—about creating inheritances," Chún explained. "I am not very good at creating things from nothing. But I seem reasonably capable of improving existing things.
"If I acquire examples of weapons, tools, or martial manuals, perhaps we could refine them until they become ancient weapons or mysterious martial arts."
"You could already do that," the Mountain pointed out. "If you recorded the Movement Dao of Monkey Movement, it would qualify as a powerful martial technique."
Chún laughed awkwardly.
"I was an orphan, remember? The village temple never allowed me inside. I never learned to read or write."
The Mountain was silent for a moment.
"That is unfortunate," it finally said. "However, I did not mean writing it down.
"I meant imbuing a jade with the Essence of the Movement Dao itself. I would teach you how."
Chún considered that, then shook his head.
"Perhaps another time. For now, show me how to make this medicine for internal injuries."
---
Almost half a shi later, the mixture of ingredients simmered slowly over the coals in a small pot. A fragrant herbal scent rose from the fire pit as steam drifted lazily upward.
According to the Mountain, it needed to simmer for at least a full shi.
While waiting, Chún returned to the clay that had stiffened slightly and began shaping small fu pots using Essence manipulation. Each tiny vessel had a snug-fitting lid, suitable for storing honey, salt, or minerals.
Then he made several ordinary bowls and plates.
Given the amount of Essence now flowing through the clearing, even these simple dishes would likely become far stronger than ordinary ceramics once fired.
Finally, he wiped the clay from his hands and asked,
"Show me how to make the decocting pot."
A quiet hum of interest came through the link.
"A decocting pot is simply a well-balanced vessel with a lid and a small spout for pouring, much like a teapot. The clay must be evenly distributed—not too thick.
"In our case we must also distribute Essence evenly through the clay. Try to push all five Elements of Essence through the vessel as you shape it.
"I will form the internal Dao patterns and balance the Yin and Yang of the Element cycle."
Chún raised an eyebrow.
"I will make several, then. Achieving that balance sounds difficult."
He began shaping the clay carefully, drawing separate streams of Essence through each finger.
"Why is the balance necessary? And will the Dao patterns draw Essence from the environment, like the plant pots?"
"Yes," the Mountain confirmed. "Decocting pots draw the Elements they require from the surrounding environment.
"Cauldrons, however, isolate and refine ingredients from external Essence. The only Essence used comes from the alchemist, the ingredients, and the cauldron itself."
The Mountain paused briefly before continuing.
"Both must begin in a state of balance.
"For a decocting pot, balance allows it to draw whichever Element is required to assist with the decoction.
"For a cauldron, balance allows it to withstand the powerful reactions created when refining ingredients."
"But what about pill tribulations?" Chún protested. "In the stories the cauldrons always draw huge whirlwinds of Essence from the environment."
"That occurs only during extremely high-level pill refinements," the Mountain replied. "A basic cauldron—the kind all true cauldrons begin as—would be destroyed by such forces.
"Ideally a cauldron grows alongside its alchemist. As the alchemist attempts more complex recipes, the cauldron develops new abilities and manifestations."
A puzzled sensation flickered through the link.
"Very ancient treasure cauldrons eventually become elaborate as their Dao patterns grow stronger. At that point they may draw Essence from the Nine Heavens through their vents."
Chún shivered slightly.
"I thought there were ninety-nine heavens…"
A cool breeze stirred the clearing at his uneasy thought, rustling the leaves overhead.
"Nine major Heavens," the Mountain replied calmly, "each with ten subordinate heavens."
"There is always somewhere greater than where you stand," Chún sighed.
He lifted the finished pot toward the Golden Crow, the damp clay still cool against his fingers, examining the surface carefully.
"Better?"
"Yes," the Mountain said. "That one is nearly perfect. Make several more for practice. Then we will begin the cauldron."
Chún brushed leaves from his legs as he placed the finished vessel on the drying shelf.
"I think it would be wiser to make two smaller cauldrons rather than one large one," he said thoughtfully. "If one fails, the other might succeed."
"Not a bad idea," the Mountain agreed.
Chún sat back down beside the remaining clay and began working again.
"I am starting to feel more like an artisan, merchant, hunter, or farmer than a cultivator," he grumbled good-naturedly as the clay slowly turned between his Essence-guided hands.