Chapter 41
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Qi Wuhuo placed one hand on the pill furnace, guiding the flow of the Primordial Qi as he added various herbal essences into the mix. He began refining their properties, working to condense them into Primordial Nourishing Pills. His alchemy technique was far from refined, showing several signs of inexperience and even obvious mistakes.
Among the mountain gods, there were those with far more adept alchemy skills.
Yet when the young man raised his hand, he directly drew upon the power of a Mountain God, summoning the radiance of the sun and moon. With a single gesture, he commanded a majestic scene they had never seen before.
Using the sun and moon to open the furnace and refine pills—though they had lived for three to five hundred years, they had never seen such a technique executed with a mere wave of the hand!
The radiance of the sun and moon merged into the pills, and Qi Wuhuo’s understanding of alchemy, based solely on the foundational principles, suddenly sparked an insight. The sun represents yang, linked to the heart, nature, and Primordial Spirit; the moon represents yin, connected to the kidneys and Primordial Essence. The golden crow and jade rabbit are symbols of the sun and moon, urging each other forward in an endless cycle—a method that aligns perfectly with the practice of refining Primordial Spirit and Essence.
How curious.
The elder’s pill-refining method was obviously a method for refining the outer elixir, yet it also followed the principles of refining the inner elixir.
Could it be that, from the perspective of cultivation, [Internal and external are one, and there is no distinction between the human body and Heaven and Earth]?
Was it that the path of alchemy revealed the cultivation method?
Or was it that the cultivation method illuminated the art of alchemy?
Qi Wuhuo felt a growing sense of clarity, realizing that the elder’s lineage was particularly skilled in the art of alchemy. This was both an internal cultivation method and an exceptional alchemical technique, where refining pills was itself a form of cultivation, and cultivation was, in essence, refining pills.
“To refine spiritual elixirs to their perfect form, in the mortal world only the ashes of immortality remain…”
“Elixirs perfected, the ashes of immortality.”
“This is not merely a foundational principle of alchemy; it must be one of the core tenets of cultivation as well.”
Qi Wuhuo had an epiphany and began to collect the pill according to the cultivation method of circulating breath. A strange fragrance began to waft around, and suddenly, the pill furnace started to shake violently.
The pill furnace opened.
One by one, the pills flew out, carrying glowing radiance. At this moment, Qi Wuhuo had attained the realm of Xiantian One Qi. Although he was initially somewhat flustered, he still managed to collect all the pills without letting a single one fall. He said: “These are Qi-Nourishing Pills; if a cultivator takes them, they can enhance their vital energy.’” [TL_Note: Because he’s using the Mountain God’s power his realm is equivalent to the Xiantian One Qi]
The brawny mountain god accepted the pill, and his previous casual attitude about merely stopping by to meet the new mountain god shifted. Clenching his teeth, he said:
“Today, as the Mountain Lord assumes his position, I, too, have a gift to offer. I hope you won’t find it lacking.” He promptly presented a jade box containing ginseng with fully developed roots, emitting a faint golden glow, clearly not an ordinary item. Other mountain gods rose as well, each offering a gift.
One presented a pair of flawless white jade, another an exquisite qin, and yet another a treasured sword.
Most, however, gifted rare mountain treasures and various spiritual herbs, many already three to five hundred years old, brimming with spiritual energy. For an ordinary person, even a single bite would greatly boost their vitality, while for a cultivator, one dose could immediately replenish their Qi. These items filled the table, and this time, Qi Wuhuo did not refuse. Using the storage ability of his sword case, he carefully stored each gift.
Tao Taigong, stroking his beard, initially intended to present a single pill. But, after a pause, he changed his mind and instead took out a scroll.
He brushed his hand over it, and under the astonished gazes of the others, gently placed the jade scroll on the table.
It was crafted from white jade, with names inscribed in gold.
Tao Taigong seemed a little reluctant, but after a moment, he let go and smiled, saying: “This is a portion of this old man’s lifelong accumulation, a record of the names and auras of the Mountain Gods and Earth Spirits across the vast lands of Central State(Zhongzhou). If, in the future, you travel the world and face hardships, channel your power into this jade scroll. Should any Mountain God or Earth Spirit be nearby, they will sense it and come to your aid.”
This time, the elder showed no trace of calculation or personal gain, only bowing respectfully, letting out a long, heartfelt sigh:
“You have allowed me to glimpse the Dao, as it was always meant to be.”
“Were it not so, I would carry this shame in my heart, unable to progress.”
After bowing in return, Qi Wuhuo accepted the jade scroll and carefully stored it away.
Seeing that everyone was immersed in their insights, he said nothing more, and rose to leave, and as he did so, a young spirit deer noticed his movements. As it stood, the young man bent down with a gentle smile, one hand softly patting the spirit beast’s head, while the fingers of his other hand rose to his lips, a strand of black hair falling at his temple, his eyes filled with a clear, gentle smile.
Then, he whispered softly:
“I’m off.”
As the two Divine Guardians escorted him down the mountain, Qi Wuhuo said:
“We’ll still keep to the old agreement—lectures every three years, and alchemy every year.”
The two Divine Generals respectfully replied: “Understood!”
After hesitating for a moment, they took a step forward, bowing, and said: “Lord Mountain God, we previously underestimated you because of your youth, and we hope you won’t…” They didn’t finish, for as they looked up, they saw Qi Wuhuo had already turned and was walking away. The young man in blue waved back at them, his gesture indicating he didn’t mind. With the sword case on his back, he took a few steps.
He walked farther and farther, merging into the depths of the mountains, disappearing into the clouds and mist until he was no longer visible.
And thus, the gathering ended.
The winter wind guided his steps as he departed.
He walked on and on, the path winding with the mountains, entering the depths of the clouds.
After leaving, Qi Wuhuo did not go straight away but instead turned back to find the Huangjing spirit. He greeted the little figure, who promptly climbed up and perched on his shoulder. Qi Wuhuo playfully teased the tiny, nearly millennia-old spirit of the Huangjing, with his fingers, glancing around with a smile: “It seems that when he left, he set up a rather powerful formation to protect you.”
“With his level of cultivation at the time, you’ll be quite safe here.”
After a bit of playful teasing, the little spirit, formed from the Huangjing’s Qi, burrowed back into the ground. The young man stood, walking across the mountain, and took out the gifts the mountain gods had given him—those spirit herbs filled with Primordial Qi were three to five hundred years old. He found secluded spots along the way, dug into the earth, and replanted each herb.
In this place, these spirit herbs could continue to grow.
The spiritual veins of the mountain will also grow stronger as a result, and these spiritual medicines will emit vital energy, gradually transforming the surrounding area.
Qi Wuhuo planted the last mountain ginseng, watching its spiritual energy ripple outward. He exhaled lightly, then stood, gazing at the mountain before him. He remembered how, in his youth, he had survived here, relying on the mountain’s fruits and dry branches. Bowing slightly, he smiled and said: “The New Year is near. May you be blessed as well, mountain.”
Naturally, there was no reply.
The young man couldn’t help but laugh at himself.
He turned and made his way down the mountain, gathering pinecones along the way—those with no seeds left, which would make excellent firewood. Some still had a few seeds remaining, preserved from the harsh winter cold. Before long, he had filled his basket, and, wiping a pear clean, he bit into it. The juice was sweet and refreshing, perfect for quenching his thirst after talking for nearly an entire day, even for a cultivator.
After rounding a few bends, he heard a commotion ahead. Walking forward, he found a group of people beating drums and gongs, advancing down the path.
Qi Wuhuo and the procession came face to face.
At the front were several sturdy men carrying a sedan chair, draped in silk, with a statue of the mountain god seated atop.
The statue of the mountain god was wrapped in layers of red silk ribbons, inscribed with auspicious phrases like “May all be well” and “The mountain god brings blessings”. Beside it stood the town officials and local gentry, dressed in fine silks and brocade, looking immaculate. When they saw Qi Wuhuo coming down the mountain with a basket on his back, casually eating, and with black soil smudging his cuffs from planting spiritual herbs, they first looked surprised, then a hint of disdain appeared in their eyes.
Yet, on the surface, they remained polite, bowing and greeting him with feigned cordiality:
“Oh, I thought I heard magpies chirping for good fortune today!”
“So it’s Young Master Qi. In the dead of winter, instead of staying home to keep warm, what brings you to the mountain?”
Qi Wuhuo replied: “Just collecting some firewood.”
“Oh, I see.”
“We’ve gathered all the townsfolk to create a statue for the Mountain God and build a new shrine in his honor.”
“Previously, it was because Wuhuo has no elders at home that I didn’t inform you. Haha, in the future, if you have time, you’re welcome to come up the mountain to burn incense. After all, you’re one of us in the town and also acquainted with the Mountain God.”
“No need to worry about the incense fees. I’ll cover them for you.”
The official chuckled as he exchanged pleasantries.
Qi Wuhuo thought for a moment, then nodded and said: “Yes.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Thank you.”
The official smiled and continued: “The path here is rather narrow…”
The young man in blue nodded and stepped aside, watching as the crowd made their way up the mountain, some carrying large plaques. He then looked away, took another bite of the frozen mountain pear, and continued down the path, his steps light. With a woven bamboo basket on his back and one hand holding the strap over his shoulder, a small mountain sparrow perched on his shoulder, playfully pecking at the strands of black hair falling over his temple.
This fourteen-year-old boy walked down the mountain into the wind, carrying a youthful, clear grace.
People climbing the mountain.
People descending the mountain.
As he made his way down, he tossed the half-eaten pear to a yellow dog wagging its tail at him, waved the sparrow away, and saw smoke rising from chimneys in the twilight. Behind him, he heard someone calling out behind him:
“Honor the Mountain God”
At last, he couldn’t hold it in, and he laughed out loud.
