Chapter Thirty-Six: Conceal Your Talents, Act When the Time Is Right

Lu Qian channeled his true energy, a wave of chill sweeping across the land as he moved swiftly through the mountain forest. He was like a leopard, leaving fleeting shadows behind as he darted among the trees.

Under the moonlight, dense mist enveloped everything. The forest appeared eerily sinister, terrifying, with occasional strange cries echoing like the wailing of ghosts and wolves. It was easy to imagine specters lurking about; in legends, this was the place most likely to encounter spirits.

Yet upon reflection, he knew there were no ghosts here. Perhaps he himself was the monster of folklore.

Soon, he arrived at the pharmacy. Li Du had been waiting for some time. Upon seeing Lu Qian, he tossed over several prescriptions. Lu Qian glanced at them: Yin Ink of the Grand Marshal, Golden Centipede Qi-Gathering Pill, and Natural Powder.

“The first two replenish essence and strange energies, nourishing the spirit of the yin soul. The last one uses lead and mercury as its base, corpse powder and herbs as auxiliaries. It can instantly restore true energy.”

The Natural Powder was the most challenging, bordering on alchemy, requiring extraordinary skill. It was favored by wandering priests undertaking missions. In moments of crisis, it could instantly restore true energy. Of course, it also had side effects.

Green hair would grow all over one's body—a sign of corpse poison. A face pale as gold indicated lead poisoning.

“Master Li, these pills can’t be refined with ordinary fire, can they?” Lu Qian immediately saw the issue.

“Correct. That’s why I’ll teach you a fire technique,” Li Du said, handing over a small booklet to Lu Qian.

There were several kinds of flames.

The most common was ordinary fire, nothing worth mentioning. The fire used for refining medicine in the pharmacy was spellfire—a magical flame with intense heat and enduring strength.

Then there was true fire, a rare phenomenon in the world, not produced by spells or incantations. For instance, Li Du now gave him Nether Qi Fire.

Using Nether Fire as the seed, true fire was stored in the lower abdomen’s sea of qi, thus called Nether Qi Fire. This fire emitted a faint white glow and was of a yin nature.

Its temperature exceeded ordinary spellfire, and its adhesion was exceptionally strong—anything it touched would burn to ashes before extinguishing.

“Nether Qi Fire is a specialty of the alchemists in the temple. I know a little. Soon, you'll take my token to collect the fire seed.”

Li Du truly admired his talent. Each steward had one recommendation opportunity—to recommend a candidate to obtain the fire seed. Once true fire was mastered, the candidate could enter the alchemy chamber.

The alchemy chamber was vastly superior to ordinary pharmacists. Pharmacists sold spiritual medicines, mostly earning a bare living through volume. Alchemists, however, could sell even a failed pill for a handsome price.

Their status was considerable—they rode rare steeds and lived in high-grade caves.

It was truly a first-rate position. In the Hall of Spiritual Treasures, only weapon forgers could rival them.

Elsewhere.

Li Lin had kept himself hidden for days, waiting until his uncle’s anger subsided before sneaking out. He softly recited an incantation, and a gust of chilly wind swept past.

Figures flickered in the mist; Li Lin, enveloped in the yin wind, vanished like a phantom.

Before long, he arrived at a lavish hall.

People came and went, treasures passing through. A young priest in luxurious robes, wearing a gold-inlaid headband, stood with hands behind his back, watching the assorted servants and novices.

Seeing Li Lin, the young priest smiled broadly and said, “Li Lin, brother, what wind brings you here?”

“Greetings, Elder Jade An.” The usually arrogant Li Lin became as docile as a kitten before the man.

The priest was named Pu An, son of the warehouse steward, one of the eight chief stewards. Pu An held the position of warehouse assistant, controlling the flow of goods with great authority—a role comparable to Li Lin’s uncle.

Li Lin had established this connection by gifting him a woman, which finally allowed him to converse.

“By the way, Elder, the novice I sent was satisfactory, wasn’t she?” Li Lin asked quietly.

“Hm?” Pu An looked puzzled, then realized, “Oh, you mean her? Not bad. She practiced some spells that very day.”

“If you ever have requests, I’ll send more for you,” Li Lin replied, pausing slightly.

Pu An looked the part of a gentleman, but his mind was cruel and vicious. He delighted in tormenting women, and once bored, would drain their vitality for his own cultivation.

With his authority, his victims were always novices without background, so no one dared speak out.

“You know your place. So tell me, what do you want?” Pu An’s look suggested he knew Li Lin wouldn’t visit without reason.

“Well…” Li Lin began, recounting the events.

“All this effort for a few novices?” Pu An chuckled.

“It’s not about them,” Li Lin forced a smile. “To be honest, I’ve only seen Lu Qian once; he killed my men, which is a slap in the face. If I don’t respond, how will my subordinates view me?”

Others attached themselves to him because he was the steward’s nephew. If he couldn’t protect his own, why would anyone rely on him?

“You want me to kill him?” Pu An’s smile was inscrutable.

“Not exactly. I’d like Elder to help by assigning him to hard labor. After that, I’ll handle the rest.”

Flutter, flutter!

Suddenly, the sound of wings flapping was heard.

A yellow paper crane landed on Pu An’s palm.

Opening it, Pu An’s smile took on a deeper meaning.

“The man’s name is Lu Qian?”

“Yes.”

From the distant mist emerged a pale-faced priest, accompanied by a short-bearded novice.

Li Lin and his companion immediately recognized the novice as a paper figure.

“How… how did he come here?” Li Lin’s eyes widened.

“Hm?” Lu Qian frowned, recognizing Li Lin’s face.

“What’s wrong, Brother Lu? Wait, that’s Li Lin!” Wang Ming’s cheerful expression changed instantly, feeling trouble brewing.

He was well aware of the feud between Lu Qian and Li Lin, and knew Lu Qian had killed three of their peers. He had accompanied Lu Qian to collect the fire seed, but now sensed complications ahead.

“The one beside us is the warehouse steward. Just hand it over to him,” Wang Ming said, eyeing the steward with a strange look.

Lu Qian stepped forward, presented the token, and explained his purpose, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Li Lin, who was livid.

What Li Lin didn’t know was that Lu Qian had secretly advanced to the mid stage of Qi Refinement. It had taken only a few months, and to avoid shocking others, he had kept it a secret.

Had Li Lin known, he might have been more cautious.

“Collecting a fire seed?” Pu An scrutinized Lu Qian, his gaze predatory. “You’ve got talent—a pity.”

“Why do you say that, Steward?” Lu Qian asked, expressionless.

Clearly, this man was in league with Li Lin.

“Unlucky for you—the fire seed has just run out.” Pu An handed back the token, grinning. “Come again next time. Or go down the mountain to Nether Valley yourself. Friendly reminder—it’s dangerous there.”

Li Lin, behind him, wore a mocking smile, his eyes saying: I’m here to make things difficult for you.

“Thank you for the guidance,” Lu Qian replied, reclaiming the token and turning to leave without hesitation.

“Elder Jade An, I also want to collect a fire seed. Let’s head inside,” Li Lin said loudly.

“This person… interesting,” Pu An mused, intrigued.

He knew he was deliberately refusing, yet Lu Qian did not protest. Was it fear, or pride?

On the way, Wang Ming suddenly muttered resentfully, “That steward is Pu An. His father is one of the eight chief stewards. Han Li was abused and killed by him.”

Han Li was a pretty girl in their small group when they first joined.

“So that’s it—birds of a feather,” Lu Qian said, smiling calmly, showing no sign of anger.

Empty threats without strength meant nothing. Endurance was his forte.

Lu Qian had endured half a year at Mo Liang Daoist Temple; in the end, what became of those people?

The deliberate obstruction would only yield inferior fire seeds, so he might as well collect his own.

In any case, he would remember this.

Like a venomous snake, watching its prey in secret; keeping his power hidden, waiting for the right moment.