Before sunset, Rong Yu boarded the last spirit boat heading back to Pyeongchang Island.
As soon as he returned home, he bolted the door behind him, resolving not to step outside until he had successfully refined the Zengyuan Pill.
Rong Yu began by meticulously recalling the details of his last failed attempt, replaying each step in his mind. Then, taking a deep breath, he pulled out the spiritual materials for his next attempt and got to work.
This second attempt went significantly smoother. He extracted the spiritual liquids effortlessly and timed the process more accurately. Everything progressed seamlessly—until the final stage.
A muffled sound from the alchemy furnace signaled failure.
Rong Yu, however, wasn’t disappointed. He’d anticipated needing three tries to produce even a waste pill.
Opening the furnace, he found a thick milky-yellow residue instead of a properly formed pill. It was far better than the charred mess from his first attempt.
Curious, Rong Yu rolled up his sleeve and pressed his hand against the white mark on his arm. The mysterious scroll reappeared, its runes glowing faintly before the residue’s image manifested on the parchment. Moments later, seven patterns of spiritual herbs emerged beneath it, linked by white lines.
His heart raced with excitement. His earlier hypothesis was correct. The scroll didn’t need a fully-formed waste pill to function; even partially failed attempts could be restored. The implications were extraordinary.
Without hesitation, he touched the spiritual herb patterns on the scroll. A burst of radiant light illuminated the room, and seven pristine spiritual herbs materialized midair. The residue in the furnace vanished entirely.
Stolen story; please report.
Suppressing his elation, Rong Yu took a short rest to analyze his mistakes before starting another attempt.
The third time, the process felt even smoother, culminating in three waste pills.
The fourth attempt yielded five waste pills.
By the fifth, he had refined six waste pills—a significant milestone.
On his twenty-first attempt, he successfully refined one genuine Zengyuan Pill alongside four waste pills.
Rong Yu had fallen into an obsessive rhythm.
He alternated between refining pills and meditating to replenish his energy. When hunger struck, he relied on fasting pills; when exhaustion crept in, he took brief, restless naps. His mind never strayed from alchemy, replaying each step and refining his technique even during his breaks.
Day by day, his skills improved. By the second day, he successfully refined his first genuine Zengyuan Pill, a moment that left him nearly euphoric.
Through relentless practice and the scroll’s miraculous assistance, Rong Yu’s proficiency grew. By the tenth day, he could consistently produce one genuine pill per attempt—a feat his predecessor could only dream of.
The family alchemist assessment required a 30% success rate to pass. By this point, Rong Yu had reached that threshold, but he wasn’t satisfied. He continued refining, pushing himself to achieve perfection.
By the fifteenth day, he could produce at least two genuine pills per batch, with the occasional three.
With each attempt, he saved thousands of spirit stones worth of materials thanks to the scroll. Without it, his practice would have cost more than 2,000 spirit stones—an impossible sum for most cultivators, let alone him.
As the final days of his deadline approached, Rong Yu’s dedication bore fruit.
On the eve of the last day, he opened his alchemy furnace to a sight that nearly brought tears to his eyes.
Six perfectly round, gleaming Zengyuan Pills lay nestled inside, their delicate fragrance filling the room. They were flawless, with no cracks or imperfections—true masterpieces.
Rong Yu let out a hoarse laugh, his voice filled with exhaustion and triumph.
At that moment, with his disheveled hair, unkempt beard, and bloodshot eyes, he might have looked like a madman. But his gaze was steady, his smile calm and self-assured.
“Master Dao,” he murmured to himself, “I’ve done it.”
With that, he collapsed onto the floor, finally allowing himself the rest he had long denied.
End of the Chapter.