Seven days passed in silence, broken only by the bubbling of cauldrons and the faint clinking of jade mortars. Arthur worked tirelessly; his every movement was measured, his face impassive.
The sect had finally capitalised on his worth. He was given a pouch of Spirit Stones, crimson in hue. It was more wealth than his father could currently produce. There were one hundred of them.
In Tianyu, the shade of red determined their potency. His stones glowed a steady scarlet red, the mark of the Amber Radiance Spirit Stones, carrying Qi dense enough to aid cultivation for individuals in the Third Luminary, let alone Arthur, who was an Early Stage Crimson Furnace Cultivator.
The Alchemy Pavilion decided to grant him a share of the profit from the pills and potions. It was twenty percent of his own sales. The remaining eighty percent was siphoned away through the channels of the sect. Some to the Sect Master's coffers, some to the Alchemical Pavilion and the materials they gathered, some to Merchants and Sellers, and a healthy share to Elder Yan, his "nurturer."
It was not a terrible deal, but it was not a great one either. A great deal would have left him with half or more avoiding third parties.
But Arthur had no power to negotiate. He bowed, he accepted, and he returned to his work.
Elder Yan watched him often with narrowed eyes. Arthur did not just brew the standard recipes handed down. He was still tinkering and experimenting, as though driven by an obsession.
But Elder Yan did not know the truth. Arthur was not creating. He was remembering, quietly copying fragments of knowledge he had of Lianhua.
And in these seven days, his secret labor bore fruit.
The grey powder born of Hearth Ash and Withered Lotus Filaments. He soaked it in Stale Spirit Wine Lees, sealing the clay jar for seven nights. The mineralized carbon fused within the darkness with the decayed lotus strands, producing a dormant toxin.
Elder Yan was unaware of what was happening. He thought the boy was wasting his time.
But Arthur knew.
Elder Yan stroked his beard, his gaze thoughtful.
"Qing Tian," he finally said, "you've done well these past weeks. Better than I expected. But now… it is time you learn the foundations of a higher realm pill."
He pulled a slender jade slip from his sleeve and placed it on the table. The letters shimmered faintly. It was outlining a pill formula.
"This," Elder Yan continued, "is the Azure Meridian Pill. It is a low-tier formula meant for those of the Amber Radiance Realm. Its purpose is simple — to refine Qi, smooth the meridians, and stabilize the radiance of the Amber Radiance Dantian. At your current stage, you cannot temper the flame required. You will almost certainly fail."
He paused, looking Arthur in the eyes.
"But failure is not wasted. When you break through to Amber Radiance, your body will remember these motions. Your Claudron flame will bend more easily to your will. Study now, and in the future, this pill will yield to your hands."
Arthur bowed silently, receiving the jade slip. Upon being satisfied, Elder Yan turned and clasped his hands behind his back.
"Good. I have other duties today. Use this time wisely." His robes swept as he departed, leaving Arthur alone in the quiet chamber.
The silence deepened until only the bubbling of the cauldron remained. Arthur did not reach for the Azure Meridian Pill recipe. Instead, as dawn broke, he drew a small jar close. With slow hands, he uncorked it and dripped Moss Dew into the mixture, one bead at a time. Each droplet hissed faintly, sinking into the sludge. With every drop, qi stirred, awakening something within. The dull mixture turned black, and faint silver ripples glimmered across its surface.
Arthur's gaze never wavered. He set the jar over a low flame, and the liquid trembled, then reduced. Boiled down and refined, all that remained was one viscous drop, gleaming darkly in the light.
Arthur's breath caught. His hand hovered above the cauldron.
The final product was his.
Hearth Withering Venom.
He remembered the tale of Lianhua. She had brewed this same venom to test her fellow alchemists. She poisoned them so silently that not even a single one of them could detect it. When everything was brewed and done, they had laughed and lived because the fellow alchemists were able to refine the cure.
But there was no cure here, in Tianyu. Their alchemy was primitive, and their knowledge was shallow.
This poison also took a worse turn. It became colorless and odorless when diluted. It would pass through unnoticed. It caused no pain, no alarm. And within the time of a single incense stick, the victim's meridians would tighten, Qi dispersing as though scattered by the wind. By the second incense, their dantian's radiance would dim, collapse, and finally extinguish. Even a Peak Amber Radiance cultivator would fall. But that was the limit, as unlike Lianhua, he had not used many other ingredients of the pill recipe from her story. Many were costly, and some were not even in the Archives of Tianyu's Alchemy.
Arthur held the vial to the light, his reflection staring back through the black sheen.
"The poison is done," he murmured, his voice flat. "I hope it's only preparation and never used."
He sealed the vial, slipping it into his sleeve as footsteps approached. Elder Yan's voice called him.
"How was it?" he said with a smile. "Do you have any doubts about it?"
Arthur shook his head respectfully.
"No, Elder Yan."
He didn't even give a look at the jade slip all this time, but he knew it was nothing special, even if he had a look.
"Fine, then we will begin its concoction tomorrow. It's evening now; you should be home."
"Yes, Elder Yan," Athur replied, although he was not paying attention. Because his thoughts lingered on the drop of venom hidden against his wrist, colder than any stone.