Chapter 1210 — The Qihuang Sacred Hall

Cold sweat broke out on the Alchemist's brow. Round and round Shen Mu he paced, his sleeves streaming on the air, his myriad elixir-refining arts wrought with such uncanny mastery that the eye could scarcely follow.

Elixir-refining was a divine art in its own right, and in that art, if the Alchemist accounted himself second, no man dared claim first.

Long ago, back in Yincan Village, the Village Head had said as much: if the Alchemist could turn his elixir-refining arts to battle, his Daoist arts and divine powers would advance by leaps and bounds; and if he should add to that a mighty cultivation base, then the Alchemist too could stand among the strong men of the world. Yet the Alchemist had never set his heart on cultivation, nor studied the arts of the Dao; he bred venomous insects and planted medicinal herbs, until at last he ranked lowest of all in Yincan Village for cultivation realm.

And now Shen Mu lay in mortal peril.

The spirit elixir the Alchemist had refined carried a potency too fierce; his aim was to dissolve Shen Mu's cultivation and smelt it into a heavenly palace of the Medical Dao—in other words, to lend his own hand to Shen Mu's entering the Dao through medicine. Loath as he was to brawl and vie, there was pride in his heart too; he had set his will on outdoing the Village Head, the Silent Artisan, and the rest of them.

Little had he guessed that he would not merely fail to surpass their perfected heavenly palaces—he could not even command the potency of his own spirit elixir. The Alchemist's feet flew; round Shen Mu he spun, his elixir-refining arts shifting through a thousand forms and growing ever faster. Sweat poured from his brow, and before a drop could fall it steamed away into white vapor.

He took Shen Mu for his elixir furnace and the medicinal power within Shen Mu's body for his ingredients, and sought to refine Shen Mu himself into a spirit elixir. Only now did he rue his failure to train hard and raise his cultivation. Shen Mu was too strong in himself; to use Shen Mu as a furnace, to drive this human-shaped furnace, demanded magic power of mighty depth.

And the medicinal power inside Shen Mu was too fierce; to drive that power to evolve into a heavenly palace of the Medical Dao was doubly hard.

He was gasping now, his vital essence draining away faster and faster—at any moment one breath that could not be drawn would undo everything. His face was swollen red as cloth just hauled from a dye vat as he desperately marshaled his cultivation, striving to turn the pure true essence within Shen Mu into a heavenly palace of the Medical Dao.

Only when that heavenly palace of the Medical Dao took its final form could the rules of medicine it held within it save Shen Mu's life. Yet strain as he might, with all his strength and all his cultivation, he could not turn Shen Mu's true essence into a heavenly palace of the Medical Dao.

Pff— A mouthful of fresh blood burst from the Alchemist's lips.

He felt his vital essence spent to the last drop, and still Shen Mu's heavenly palace of the Medical Dao stood only half-built. "I will spend my life if I must—I will not let anything happen to Shen'er!

" The Alchemist's stubborn temper flared. Of a sudden he reversed his own art, burning his qi and blood, and went on striking out at Shen Mu with every elixir-refining art he knew, to feed this human-shaped furnace and speed the refining of the medicinal power.

Just then Shen Mu abruptly raised his hand and swept it wide, blocking the Alchemist's techniques.

"Grandpa Alchemist," he said with a cold laugh, "you've botched it, haven't you? I knew you would botch it.

Every time you refine a new elixir, there is always something missing or something short.

" The Alchemist was stunned. Then, keenly, he sensed that Shen Mu's heavenly palace of the Medical Dao was taking shape of itself—Shen Mu's spirit-fetus primordial spirit was driving his other heavenly palaces and the yin-yang taiji diagram, refining the remaining medicinal power and turning true essence into the heavenly palace of the Medical Dao.

"Pff—" Another mouthful of blood.

Shen Mu hurriedly raised his hand and struck point after point, sealing the qi and blood that ran backwards in the old man's body; then, supporting him down to a seat, he laughed. "Grandpa Alchemist, do you see now what comes of having no cultivation?

" The Alchemist raised a trembling finger and pointed at him. Shen Mu pressed the hand down and spoke with weight and feeling: "A fall into the pit, a gain in your wit. If I had not kept a few parts of my cultivation in reserve for a rainy day, would you not have worked yourself to death?

" "You could refine the medicinal power yourself," the Alchemist quavered, "and still you let me cough up blood with the labor. . .

" "Grandpa Alchemist has cheated me often enough in the past.

I only follow the example I was taught. " Shen Mu swiftly brought out spirit medicines, matched the ingredients, and refined a spirit elixir to nourish the old man's vital essence and blood, all the while laughing: "If I do not frighten you this once, sooner or later you will suffer for it. Knowing your error now, you will work hard at cultivation hereafter and strive to be as strong as I am.

" "Unfilial wretch—" He had barely got the words out when Shen Mu shoved a handful of spirit elixirs into his mouth. "I won't take it—" Shen Mu extended one finger and drew it lightly across his throat, and the Alchemist swallowed the elixir willy-nilly. His fingers dancing like wind, Shen Mu struck point after point across the old man's chest and belly to help him refine the medicine, saying, "Do not throw a child's tantrum.

True, I schemed against you this time.

But what if one day I truly face a situation in which I am doomed to die, and you have not the strength to dissolve the medicine and save me?

Of course, being as strong as I am, I will never meet such a situation—but what of the Village Head? He is not as strong as I am. " He knew the Alchemist was closest of all to the Village Head, and so he led him on, step by step: "If the Village Head were gravely wounded and at death's door, and you had the medicine to save him but not the magic power to speed its working, would you not have to watch him die before your eyes?

" The Alchemist had recovered a little spirit.

"You curse the Village Head," he panted.

"You are unfilial; how it would wound the Village Head.

. . " Shen Mu stirred his own cultivation and refined off the surplus medicinal power in his body, laughing: "I was only making a comparison, not cursing him. Do not talk nonsense. " "The Village Head will run you through with his sword—" Shen Mu rose in haste.

"I have business elsewhere. I must leave the Ancestral Court for a time. Grandpa Alchemist, stay here and heal your hurts by degrees, and work hard at cultivation to raise your strength.

I will go on ahead! " He hurried away, overjoyed at heart: "Another heavenly palace of the Medical Dao, and I am that much closer to the Yaochi realm.

Grandpa Alchemist will work hard at his cultivation too, and raise his strength. Mm—of the Nine Elders of Yincan Village, only Lame Grandpa and Lord Huo remain, the two who will not strive.

How am I to temper them.

. .

" Beaming, he summoned the Dragon Qilin and Yan'er and instructed them: "I mean to pluck that ancient god's egg which answers every prayer, and leave behind the treasures of the twenty-eight heavens. You are the Longshan Recluse, the first Heavenly Master under heaven, and master of the Void Mother Beast, commanding the Void Beasts within the Ancestral Court. Stay here, the two of you, and you can keep this precious land safe. " The Dragon Qilin asked in haste, "When will the Sect Master return?