Chapter 49 Baking Sweet Potatoes in the Alchemical Furnace

Mingyue gradually grew accustomed to her new identity as a pill-attendant. During this time, she heard that Sun Qinglai had his immortal powers stripped away and was expelled from the Shushan Immortal Sect. Zhou Pi was demoted to a low-ranking outer disciple and sent to do hard labor in the exact place where Mingyue had previously carried bricks.

Yan Dan and Zhang Shan were both assigned by the Pill Sect to work in its herbal medicine room. Lin Tian had come looking for her a few times, bringing either pastries and snacks or small gifts. With a shy expression, Lin Tian explained that he had asked Zhang Shan to bring them back from Luding City. Mingyue was deeply moved, resolving to head to the academy's back mountain as soon as possible to gather herbs to help detoxify and heal his injuries.

Mingyue's relationship with Feng Qingcheng also grew progressively closer. She came to realize that, provided their interests did not clash, Feng Qingcheng was actually quite good to her. He ensured she was well-fed and provided with comfortable quarters, and from time to time, he would personally guide her in learning various skills. He dedicated himself wholeheartedly to tutoring her, a mere little pill-attendant.

Ever since the day Feng Qingcheng taught her the zither piece, he required her to practice the instrument for half an hour every single morning after waking up, right after her breathing exercises, sword practice, and brewing his medicine. The practice session took place in his study.

While she practiced the zither, he would sit quietly beside her, reading books or handling other official matters. When time permitted, Feng Qingcheng would even spar with her in swordplay, though for the most part, he was kept quite busy. Several times, Mingyue wanted to ask him when she could return to the academy, but each time, the words dissolved unbidden in her throat.

A few days later, Feng Qingcheng began taking Mingyue to the alchemy chamber to familiarize her with various medicinal herbs and the entire alchemy process. For a moment, Mingyue wrongly assumed that Feng Qingcheng intended to take her on as his formal disciple.

Feng Qingcheng's private alchemy chamber was located in a relatively secluded grand hall to the right of the Pill Sect's main hall, situated in the exact opposite direction of the herbal medicine room. The paths leading to this area were strictly guarded by top masters of the Pill Sect. Surrounded by layer upon layer of lush greenery, the place appeared exceptionally mysterious, highlighting the unique and lofty status of the alchemy chamber.

The alchemy chamber was a giant, domed hall, connected on one side to the herb repository. The herb repository stood over four meters high and hundreds of meters long, lined with rows of towering shelves that reached higher than a man. These shelves were filled entirely with neatly sorted, premium-grade herbs, and numerous disciples were hard at work sorting herbs with their heads bowed. Right in the center of the alchemy chamber sat a towering, man-high triangular bronze cauldron, beneath which burned a raging terrestrial fire. This terrestrial fire never extinguished; it could be summoned to burn whenever the furnace was opened for alchemy.

Visiting this place for the first time, Mingyue could not help but look around in wonder. She touched this and poked that, imagining what Feng Qingcheng looked like when refining pills, and couldn't help thinking: *He must look incredibly handsome doing that, right?*

Mingyue reached out to touch the massive alchemy cauldron, which stood much taller than she did, and asked curiously, "Elder, since this alchemy cauldron is so huge, how many thousands of pills can it refine in a single batch?"

Feng Qingcheng shook his head and replied, "During the process of refining pills, the loss of medicinal ingredients is extremely high. At most, one can refine a few hundred pills in a single batch, and at the very least, only one or two."

Gazing at the raging flames within the furnace, Mingyue suddenly remembered that she had a couple of sweet potatoes in the kitchen. She wondered what roasted sweet potatoes would taste like.

Unable to resist, she pressed her lips into a smile and said, "Elder, roasting sweet potatoes in this alchemy cauldron must yield something truly delicious."

The corners of Feng Qingcheng's mouth twitched uncontrollably as he remarked, "Using an alchemy cauldron to roast sweet potatoes—you are probably the only person in the world who could come up with such an idea." Suddenly remembering the time they roasted a rabbit together with Xiaor in Hundred Flowers Village, he asked, "Are you quite eager to try it?"

Mingyue nodded eagerly without hesitation, "Elder, can I really give it a try?"

Feng Qingcheng nodded and warned her, "This terrestrial fire is extremely fierce. You must control the heat carefully and make sure you don't end up roasting yourself."

Mingyue smiled slyly to herself. No sooner said than done; taking advantage of the moment when Feng Qingcheng walked away to check on the classification of the herbs, she sneaked off to the kitchen to fetch two sweet potatoes. Slipping back to the side of the alchemy cauldron, she tossed the sweet potatoes inside and began roasting them while carefully regulating the terrestrial fire.

Using her immortal power to manage the flames, Mingyue watched as the fire inside the alchemy cauldron blazed fiercer and fiercer, seemingly driven by a tremendously powerful force moving within it. Only then did she realize that the terrestrial fire possessed an inherent, formidable might. If the operator's immortal power was too weak, it would be exceptionally difficult to control. No wonder the requirements for someone practicing alchemy were so demanding.

The fire burned brighter and brighter. Suddenly, Mingyue saw the terrestrial fire leap forward with a sharp hiss. A strong, charred odor wafted out, accompanied by choking, dense smoke. Before she could dodge backward, the wall of fire surged straight toward her face.

"Ouch!" Mingyue cried out in alarm, falling backward onto her bottom. Her face burned with heat, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of scorched hair, stinging her eyes until tears streamed down her cheeks.

Hearing her startled cry, Feng Qingcheng hurried over, fished the smoking sweet potatoes out of the alchemy cauldron, and pulled Mingyue up from the floor.

Seeing her soot-blackened, disheveled face and noticing that the fringe of hair on her forehead had been thoroughly singed—making her look as though she had just crawled out of a coal mine—Feng Qingcheng managed to suppress his laughter and asked, "Are the sweet potatoes roasted? Why did you manage to roast yourself along with them?"

Mingyue chuckled sheepishly and said, "Hehe, my skills are simply too poor. I'm terribly sorry."

Feng Qingcheng smiled and chided her, "Now you've learned your lesson. Let's see if you dare to be mischievous again."

Mingyue stuck out her tongue in a playful grimace, quickly cleared away the ruined sweet potatoes, and scurried back to her room like a wisp of smoke to clean herself up.

The moment she thought about appearing in such a disheveled state before the great deity Feng Qingcheng, her face twitched in mortification: *Mingyue, oh Mingyue, you've completely disgraced yourself today.*

However, experiencing the thrill of roasting sweet potatoes in an alchemy cauldron finally satisfied her intense curiosity, giving her an entirely new perspective on the mysterious vessel.

At noon, having caught wind of the incident, Sun Qinglai sought out Mingyue and rebuked her, "I heard you used the alchemy cauldron to roast sweet potatoes today?"

Seeing Sun Qinglai fuming with his beard and eyebrows twitching in anger, Mingyue thought to herself: *How on earth did he find out? Even Elder Feng agreed to it, what business is it of this old bird?*

Cautiously, Mingyue replied, "Y-Yes, the Elder gave his permission..."

Trembling with rage, Sun Qinglai let out a sudden, thunderous roar, "You—you actually used the alchemy cauldron to roast sweet potatoes! What, what kind of behavior is this? What outrage!"

Startled by his booming voice, Mingyue stood there dumbly, staring at Sun Qinglai without a word.

Sun Qinglai shouted at the top of his lungs, "Ignorance! Utter ignorance! Do you even know the origin of this alchemy cauldron?"

Mingyue shook her head. How could she possibly know its origin when Feng Qingcheng had never mentioned it to her?

Beating his chest in exasperation, Sun Qinglai said earnestly and sternly, "This alchemy cauldron is a high-grade magical artifact, a rare treasure left behind by the senior masters of ten thousand years ago. There is only one such item in the entire world, and you—you actually used such a precious artifact to roast sweet potatoes? Ah? What sort of utter lawlessness is this?"

Mingyue shrank her neck in fear, enduring Sun Qinglai's thunderous voice and the countless sprays of saliva that came with it.

Sun Qinglai sighed heavily and muttered, "I said it before—how could the Pill Sect possibly recruit a female disciple? Isn't she just here to create chaos?"

While Sun Qinglai was still at the height of his fury, Mingyue kept her head down, not daring to talk back. After lecturing Mingyue relentlessly for half an hour, Sun Qinglai finally let out a long sigh toward the heavens and let her off.

Feeling thoroughly depressed, Mingyue ran into Yan Dan on her way back. Yan Dan asked with an expression full of juicy gossip, "I heard Sun Qinglai came looking for you?"

Mingyue nodded in silence.

Yan Dan lowered her voice and said, "Sun Qinglai has always been rigid and old-fashioned. Since he doesn't dare lecture the Elder, he came to lecture you instead. Don't take it to heart."

Mingyue muttered, "I really didn't know that alchemy cauldron was a high-grade magical artifact." Had she known, she certainly wouldn't have done such a thing.

Yan Dan chuckled. "Well, using an alchemy cauldron to roast sweet potatoes, and having the Elder not even object—you really something else. Hahaha..." Mingyue rolled her eyes at Yan Dan and stomped back to her room in a huff.

That afternoon, Mingyue brewed the medicine as usual and brought it to Feng Qingcheng. "Elder, it's time for your medicine." With a listless expression, she placed the bowl of medicine and the preserved plums in front of Feng Qingcheng.

Glancing at the aggrieved-looking young girl, Feng Qingcheng picked up a preserved plum and popped it into his mouth. Then, he took the medicine bowl and finished the bitter draught, remarking, "Hmm, the plums you bought last time taste quite good."

Mingyue looked up at Feng Qingcheng. A smile blossomed on her face, and her spirit suddenly soared. Her eyes sparkled as if shooting stars had flashed across them, making her entire being seem bathed in a soft radiance.

"Come here and help me grind the ink," Feng Qingcheng said, pulling his gaze away and giving her an instruction.

Mingyue hurriedly took out the inkstone and began grinding the ink, while Feng Qingcheng sat at his desk, wholly absorbed in painting.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, making the study exceptionally bright. Clad in white robes with wide sleeves, he sat with an air of refined leisure. His ink-black hair and sculpted, handsome facial features were even more breathtaking than the artwork itself.

As she ground the ink, Mingyue stole glances at him. Putting aside his domineering and cunning flaws, he truly looked remarkably pleasing to the eye when he was concentrating on his art.

Lost in her observation, Mingyue gradually drifted into a daze, her face displaying an adorable, blank expression. Seemingly sensing her gaze, Feng Qingcheng raised his phoenix-like eyes and looked lazily toward her. Their eyes met, and Mingyue's face flushed crimson. Overcome with guilt, she hurriedly lowered her head.

"Yue'er," Feng Qingcheng called out, beckoning to her once she finished her zither practice. "Come here and write the inscription for me."

"I-Inscribe it?" Mingyue walked over and carefully examined the painting he had completed.

She saw distant mountains depicted like dark eyebrows, with faint waterfalls and gushing springs hidden among them. A sea of clouds rolled across the paper, and beneath the glow of the setting sun, a majestic eagle soared with wings outspread. Beneath a sturdy, ancient pine tree lay a smooth boulder, upon which rested a guqin. Wisps of smoke from a nearby incense burner curled into the air, and the only thing missing was someone to play the instrument.

Though rendered in just a few sparse strokes, the scene was depicted with vivid realism. Even though Mingyue knew little about painting, she could easily tell this was a masterpiece. If she messed up the inscription, it would be an absolute tragedy to ruin such an exquisite artwork!

She had never liked practicing calligraphy since she was a child. Her mother often spent two or three months away from home, traveling the world year-round, and never forced her to practice brushwork. Consequently, although she recognized many characters, her handwriting was far from pretty.

Scratching her head, Mingyue stammered, "Um, Elder, my handwriting isn't very good, and I've never written inscriptions before. What if I ruin your painting..." *Will I get punished for it?* Mingyue worried anxiously.

"Come, write something for me to see," Feng Qingcheng said, spreading a fresh sheet of paper on the desk for her.

Biting the bullet, Mingyue stepped forward. Since childhood, she had loved reading extensively, so this part at least did not stump her. Picking up the brush and gathering her concentration for a moment, she wrote a line of rather clumsy characters on the paper: "Dusk Mountains and Seas of Clouds."

Examining her handwriting closely, Feng Qingcheng said, "Hmm, your handwriting is indeed rather poor. From now on, after you finish your zither practice every day, practice your calligraphy for another half hour. I'll have Yan Dan bring you a copybook."

"Ah? Calligraphy practice? N-No, I don't want to..." Mingyue protested instantly.

She detested practicing calligraphy the most; it was dry and tedious—this was practically asking for her life. She would much rather plant herbs, apply fertilizer, water the crops, or study medicinal plants to cure the sick, any of which was infinitely more interesting than writing characters.

"Oh? Then let's make it a full hour of calligraphy practice every day." Feng Qingcheng glanced at her, and seeing her reluctant expression, threatened, "If my pill-attendant's handwriting is this atrocious, it's embarrassing if word gets out."

Mingyue glared at him indignantly, while his phoenix eyes curved into an amused, threatening smile.

After the two of them locked gazes for a long while, Mingyue finally conceded in defeat: "Elder, let's stick to half an hour... Is that alright?..." Inside, however, she was wailing: *Why is my life so miserable?*

With a hint of a smile in his eyes, Feng Qingcheng replied, "Very well. For the other half hour, you will practice sword flight."

"Doesn't the academy only teach unified sword flight practice after a year? Isn't it a bit too early to start now?" Mingyue protested with a mournful expression.

Mingyue possessed a natural talent for cultivation, and her speed of advancement seemed much faster than that of ordinary people. Ever since Feng Qingcheng began tutoring her personally, her immortal cultivation progressed even more rapidly, making this the ideal moment to begin learning sword flight.

"Elder, what if my immortal power fails me and I fall to my death?" Mingyue asked with a pitiful look.

"Rest assured, with me here, you won't fall to your death," Feng Qingcheng answered with absolute certainty.

As Mingyue's small face puckered up like a walnut shell, Feng Qingcheng pulled her closer and pressed the writing brush into her hand. "Come on, finish the inscription first."

Standing right beside her, Feng Qingcheng wrapped his right hand over hers. His hand was warm, with slender fingers, and his palm completely enveloped her small hand. Guiding her patiently, he helped her write the characters "Twilight Clouds and Longing" stroke by stroke onto the painting.

Mingyue thought to herself: *This man is truly... an existence akin to a demon. With formidable immortal powers, supreme alchemy skills, extraordinary swordsmanship, peerless zither artistry, profound painting talents, and beautiful handwriting—not to mention being far better-looking than anyone else—is there anything he isn't good at?*

As for learning sword flight? Her heart actually swelled with anticipation.