Although the Icy Fairy Kong Meiling regarded me with the disgust reserved for something particularly slimy - which, I must state for the record, I am not - she did bring up a useful point, a point further restated by Zhou Cheng.
Cooking is not an efficient way to refine things - Alchemy is.
I am not really looking to be efficient, it must be said, but learning Alchemy may make me a more valuable person. As content as I am to be Cheng's lackey and hug his thighs, I'm not so arrogant as to believe I will always manage to justify my status with cooking alone. Thus, Alchemy. If it's anything like cooking, then I should be okay. And if it's not, then I'll still be okay because I'll work hard at it, and hope to the Gods I won't blow myself up in the process.
"Outer Disciple Hei Lian, seeking access to the Great Library." I hold my hand out to verify not only my identity but my points. A small mark is made on the inner wrist of one's left hand when you join the Sect and through it, your point total is tracked, amongst other things I'm sure. It acts as a sort of ID as well.
When my fellow Outer Disciple holds his own hand out and grasps my wrist, I grasp his in turn. Outer Disciple Lan Xinghuan blooms into my mind. My identity thus verified (his as well, not that it matters), we release each other and he gestures for me to step onto the elevator and be allowed up.
The Great Library is… massive. It's technically part of the Lower Ring, but it's basically its own Ring. It has countless texts, manuals, scriptures, scrolls, tablets amongst other innumerable artefacts and treasures. Endless stacks of shelves are visible from the small foyer where those who aren't authorised to peruse at their leisure must remain - which is really anyone who isn't a Core Disciple or an Elder. There are others who are granted some time or permission, but it is something that must be verified.
The foyer itself is richly appointed, with the whole library lit up by floating crystals, although there are no chairs or tables or anything of that sort. Nobody is expected to wait all that long, and if you must wait, then it's probably because you're not important enough to matter.
Once I step in, it's a fairly short wait before one of the Disciples on duty comes over - I'm a little surprised to see it's one of the Core Disciples. She's a severe looking beauty, and her eyes hold little regard for me at all… but it doesn't feel like the gaze of someone whose disdainful or disgusted. It's just that, to her, someone in the early stages of Core Formation, I am nothing to be concerned about at all beyond her duties.
Why should she have any feelings for someone like me at all, one of hundreds who will not amount to anything?
"Disciple," she greets, not coldly but hardly warmly either. Utterly neutral and business-like. Its only the fluidity of her words and tone that prevents her from being completely robotic, but the sheer apathy in her words is overwhelming.
I kowtow immediately. I can probably get away without doing it, but it's not in my nature to risk offending someone so powerful. "Senior Sister, this humble one seeks a manual suitable for someone beginning to study Alchemy."
"Hold out your hand."
I lift myself only so much as is necessary for her not to have to bend.
Her hands are warmer than I expected - perhaps a consequence from whatever method she uses to cultivate - and I grasp her wrist as she grasps mine. The connection cannot form unless both parties do it, after all, or I would not dare even dream of touching her.
Core Disciple Wang Minyi. A moment after, I sense my points reduce as she deducts the appropriate amount with a mudra.
"Wait here," she instructs, as we release our holds. She turns to leave, disappearing into the stacks as I obey. I don't even lift my head. I don't have to wait long until she returns. "Here," she declares, and I lift my head just enough to see the text I am taking. "Is that all, Disciple?"
"My gratitude is unending, Senior Sister, such that I cannot put it into words."
She doesn't even acknowledge me with a nod, simply turning away and returning to whatever it is she does when not answering requests like this. I take it as the dismissal it is, and scurry away, clutching the tome to my chest.
It's only when I'm back at my quarters - well, I say 'my quarters', it's a dormitory room with seven others in relatively cramped space - that I take the opportunity to peruse the text. 'Myriad Laws of Alchemy'. Seems… okay. It's not all that detailed, but it does cover the basic introductory concepts. Very broadly. Very broadly. There's so many different styles and schools it references, but it only goes into the surface of each, although it at least does go into the basic fundamentals that nearly all of them share.
The basics of it boils down to purifying, refining, condensing - it's basically cultivating externally in a sense, with the end goal being to create something that is easier to absorb. You could absolutely eat a spirit core raw - I've already done it - but it's better to refine that core and then eat it because you'll get more Qi out of it more easily. Refining can also enhance certain qualities or remove unwanted ones. You might want to enhance the restorative effects of medicinal herbs, or maybe you don't want to have to deal with Qi that's difficult to absorb.
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The actual steps to do this vary wildly, but the very basics of it uses a flame, a cauldron, and a little Qi to guide the processes. I still have the core from the Icefang Serpent, and some nuts so I'm going to try and start with those. The equipment costs me most of my remaining points but if this works out, it'll be all for the best.
Both of them have fairly Yin-aspected Qi, although the Serpent's more Ice-aspected, where the nuts are more broadly Yin. There's other ways I could refine them, but for a beginner like myself, some kind of Yin pill is likely easiest.
Using fire, something generally aspected to Yang (especially when it's a roaring blaze), to refine Yin may seem counterintuitive, but Yang produces Yin, and Yin produces Yang - there is Lesser Yin in the Greater Yang, and vice versa. That is the nature of the Dao.
Of course, the nature of the Dao is something vastly more profound than such a simple understanding, but for a simple fool such as myself, thinking in terms of things like 'If you cast a light, you create a shadow' is easy enough.
All I need to do is create a reaction that draws out the Yang aspects of the ingredients and discards them, leaving condensed Yin behind. The fire blazes blue as I do this, slowly drawing out the Yang into the flames, and paradoxically cooling the cauldron itself. Likewise, I draw out moisture and condense the substance with faint touches of Qi.
It's not an easy process by any means. It's simple on the surface, but actually implementing it requires a lot of focus and care, because if I'm not careful, it can and will explode. Case in point, the cauldron rocks slightly as a bit of Yang Qi escapes without being disseminated properly. Yang nurtures Yin, and Yin nurtures Yang - if you're not careful, it nurtures itself a little too much, and you get an explosion of Qi. If you're skilled, you can contain it - the process for the very best alchemists, I'm told, is basically a controlled explosion.
I am not skilled, so I have little interest in any explosive growth here.
Slowly. Carefully. Bit by bit. A gentle touch here, and a nudge there, a firm grasp over there. When the process finally concludes, I'm… drenched in sweat. That was more effort than I expected it to be, if I'm honest. The end result is a glass-like pearl that kind of resembles a marble to my eyes. Or like, a fruit gummy.
All those nuts, that core, all condensed down into something the size of a pea. Now to see if it was worth it.
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Core Disciple Bang Yanhuo rolls the pill between his fingers, studying it with a disinterested air. "For a first attempt, it's not bad, Junior Hei," he concedes, "There's plenty to be improved on, but I cannot fault one such as you for that too harshly." He's a much older man, at least going off his appearance - he looks like he's in his early twenties, which really means he could be anything. "Are you giving it to the Sect then?"
Anything that one makes, one can keep - but of course, if you give it to the Sect, then you have contributed and thus are rewarded with points. Most Outer Disciples lack that kind of ability, however. Few can create anything worth contributing - few will get more benefit from contributing than they would just using whatever they get either. "I will gladly offer it to the Sect, Senior."
He gives me a polite nod, and holds his hand out. We grasp wrists, and I feel my point total increase. It's not as much as I was hoping for, if I'm perfectly honest, but it's enough. The magic of capitalism is that resources allow you to buy more resources and repeat the process. So long as I can transform ingredients into pills that I can trade for more points for ingredients, I can keep going, and now that I have a solid way of catching Steel Armour Fish…
The rest of the Steel Armour has gone to getting myself a proper kitchen knife, alongside a small pan and pot. The alloy is sturdier and stronger than my originals, and it didn't cost me that much - beyond a raised eyebrow and a handful of points - as I'd provided the materials.
And so I had everything I needed to get my little enterprise going, so I headed back to the Forest.
Day in, day out, fishing up Steel Armour Fish, cooking some into a delicious soup, and refining the rest of them into pills. An endless loop, but not an entirely unpleasant one.
As I improved my skill at refining pills, I too improved my cooking. New spices, new methods of cooking - the end result was something I found rather pleasing.
The pleasantly warm soup slid down the back of my throat, coating my tongue with a delicious savoury flavour, with just enough acid to cut through.
Although they were called 'Blood Oaks', I'd discovered that a few of them actually grew fruit instead of nuts - and I could only really describe it as a 'Blood Orange' in the most literal sense. They were… disturbingly fleshy, and although the sap was lovely and sweet, the fruit was sharp and acidic, and it made a wonderful contrast to the soup.
It was… not perfect, but as close to it as I could get with my current ingredients. The elements felt like they were balancing themselves in harmony. The Yang of the Fish, the Yin of the Noodles… it almost feels like I'm eating the Dao in soup form.
It's certainly easy to draw the Qi out of it. Having tested some of my own pills, I can safely say that whilst pills are easy to digest and absorb the Qi out of - because most of the refinement has been done for you - the soup isn't much worse, if at all. It's also just… delicious and pleasant and smooth.
And at no point did I risk exploding myself whilst making it.
I'm sure I'm missing out on some efficiency, but I think I much prefer the soup to the pills. Alas, I'm unlikely to be able to offer my soup as a contribution to the Sect, although something must be said for the longevity of pills as well. Soup does not store well, no matter how delicious. Well, not without some kind of storage formation.
All things I'll have to consider, going forward. But for now… I think I'll write this recipe down for my own notes. Once I'm done with the soup. Mm. These noodles were wonderful as well - just a wonderful amount of bite to them without being chewy. I was worried Ghost Tree Noodles might be too delicate, but although they have a glass-like quality to them, they remain springy and firm.
I close my eyes, drawing on the Qi swimming in my stomach, pulling it straight into my lower Dantian and beginning to refine it. I feel a pleasant chill thrumming through my body, a familiar sensation as it settles into my bones.
Qi Condensation… Fourth Step. It's no great achievement compared to my peers, but for me, it feels like the first step all over again to a great horizon.