Chapter Ninety-One: Another Cauldron Explosion

“Get lost! What are you howling about?” Mei Yunqi kicked Li Jianren aside, pointed a finger, and released Lin Feng from his bindings. Then he turned to leave.

“Master, you can’t go,” Li Jianren cried, darting forward with astonishing speed and clinging to Mei Yunqi’s leg. “If you’re going to eat meat, at least leave a bowl of broth for your disciples! Otherwise, if this gets out and Senior Lu and the others hear of it, how will you, Master, ever show your face?”

The fellow’s mind turned faster than a millstone’s, and Lin Feng could only sigh inwardly at his own inferiority.

“That’s right, Old Mei. By rights this spirit herb should be yours, but if we hadn’t found it first, you’d still have had to guard it for a while, wouldn’t you?” Lin Feng said with a smile. “At the very least, the two of us brought you good fortune. You can’t be stingy to this extent, can you?”

Mei Yunqi gave a chuckle. “So, by your logic, should I split this spirit herb into leaves and hand them out to you?”

“What do you mean, Master? Why are you being so miserly?” Li Jianren pouted.

“Get away. Who’s your master?” Old Mei waved him off impatiently, then turned back and said, “As for the herb’s leaves, forget it. Old Mei is poorer than a church mouse, and I truly have nothing to compensate you with.”

Lin Feng waved a hand and smiled. “We don’t want your spirit herb. Old Mei, your cultivation is profound. Could you teach us a couple of your signature techniques instead?”

“Yes, yes. Master, your disciple bows before you...” Li Jianren said as he knelt and truly began knocking his head to the ground.

“You rascal, get up.” Perhaps in a good mood, Mei Yunqi finally relented. Laughing and cursing, he said, “You two want to learn Old Mei’s tricks? That’s not impossible. It’s just that with cultivation at your level, there aren’t many suitable arts. Let me think...”

Hands clasped behind his back, Mei Yunqi paced circles in the snow, shaking his head from time to time, then falling into thought. Lin Feng and Li Jianren exchanged a look, both wearing the secret smugness of men who had gotten their way.

“I’ve got it. Old Mei isn’t skilled with divine weapons, so I’ll teach you two Dao arts instead. This one is called Money Blade.”

Mei Yunqi raised his hand and scattered a string of copper coins. With two sweeping motions of his palm, those coins all transformed into sharp blades half a foot long, each end as keen as a needle, and shot toward the woods ahead.

Boom, boom, boom. The struck trees exploded one after another; branches and leaves flew apart, splinters and fragments scattering everywhere in a storm of falling timber and whirling snow.

“This move is called Phantom Doppelganger Art. Watch closely!”

Without pause, Mei Yunqi’s hand signs shifted in rapid succession. In an instant, his body seemed to multiply: countless afterimages danced across the snow, their movements identical, as though dozens of people were acting at once, though each stood in a different place and faced a different direction.

“Well? Ha ha.”

Old Mei laughed, and dozens of aged faces across the field threw back their heads in unison, a spectacle of astonishing grandeur.

“Master’s divine skill is peerless. Your disciple bows again before you,” Li Jianren said sincerely this time. To bow before an immortal exile was nothing; what did a few extra kowtows matter?

Lin Feng also bowed respectfully. To receive the true transmission of an immortal exile was a blessing one could scarcely hope for in three lifetimes.

“Rise. Old Mei has never taken in disciples in all his life, and yet now he has gained two at once. I can barely bear it, barely bear it at all.” Mei Yunqi laughed heartily and lifted a hand, raising the two of them from the ground as though by invisible force. “Come along. Don’t disturb the mountain folk. Follow me.”

The cold wind roared in their ears. With extraordinary means, Mei Yunqi whisked the two of them a thousand miles away in the span of a few breaths, depositing them in a mountain valley.

At a glance, the valley was filled with plum trees of every hue: red plums, snow plums, white plums, golden plums... Their drooping branches were as fine as silk, blooming brilliantly against the snow. In the sea of flowers, a pavilion and two thatched cottages faintly showed half their faces, waiting in the drifting fragrance for welcome guests.

“This is where Old Mei lives. It is called Little Sparrow Terrace,” Mei Yunqi said.

“Why is it called Little Sparrow Terrace, and not Plum Valley?” Li Jianren blurted out before anyone else could speak.

Mei Yunqi rolled his eyes and snorted. “Old Mei likes to call it that.”

Lin Feng and Li Jianren exchanged a look, silently telling him not to provoke the old man. The three of them walked all the way to the thatched cottages before Mei Yunqi finally turned and said, “You two will each learn one thing. After you’ve learned it, leave quickly and stop bothering me.”

“Yes.” Lin Feng answered promptly, reaching out to tug at Li Jianren, who was looking about everywhere.

“You go first. Which one do you want to learn?” Mei Yunqi asked, pointing at Lin Feng.

“I’ll learn Money Blade, then,” Lin Feng replied respectfully.

Mei nodded, passed the art’s formula into Lin Feng, and waved a hand. “Practice over there. Once you’ve got it down, go. You brat, it’s your turn. Come here.”

The transmission took little time, but the practice consumed most of the day. The subtlety of Money Blade lay in turning coins into blades. Each copper coin had to be controlled precisely, from forming to striking, and that transformation had to be completed in an instant. The difficulty was immense. In truth, it was one of the highly destructive arts among the broader class of metal-control techniques: a wide-area attack.

Phantom Doppelganger Art was even harder. Even with a foundation as exquisite as the “Pool Swallow Dance” footwork, Li Jianren spent three hours comprehending it and managed to split out only a single duplicate, leaving him miserable and frustrated.

“How’s it going?”

Only when night had fallen, after being occupied in the cottage for half the day, did Mei Yunqi finally emerge. Seeing the two of them with furrowed brows and pained expressions, he secretly delighted in their plight, yet kept on the stern face of a strict teacher.

“Master, this art is far too difficult. Do you have something easier?” Li Jianren looked miserable.

“Bah! You worthless brat. Your cultivation is insufficient, and yet you blame Old Mei’s arts for being obscure? None. If you don’t want to learn, then get lost!”

Mei Yunqi barked furiously.

Lin Feng hurried forward to pull Li Jianren back and said with a placating smile, “It’s we disciples who are dull, Master. Please don’t be angry, don’t be angry.”

Li Jianren also put on a fawning expression and said many flattering words. “Master, your divine powers are unmatched. Please don’t lower yourself to argue with Jianren. Jianren knows his mistake and will go practice at once.”

Mei Yunqi stared, then cursed, “How did I end up teaching a disgrace like you? Who refers to himself as a cheap wretch? Get out of here. Now!”

After hearing this, Li Jianren did not know whether to laugh or cry, opening his mouth but finding no words.

Lin Feng held back his laughter and explained, “Please calm yourself, Master. Brother Li uses the characters for sword and benevolence from the way of the sword, not the vile term he just sounded like.”

Mei Yunqi rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, then ignored the two half-formed disciples. He walked to the empty ground before the house and produced a small silver cauldron with three legs and a round belly. With a point of his finger, the lid flew open on its own. Then seven or eight kinds of spiritual materials and precious herbs flew into the cauldron, among them the spirit herb they had found. The medicine cauldron hovered in the air, violet fire dancing around it, and soon a fragrance of medicine began to drift out.

“Wow, what kind of pill is he refining?” Li Jianren drooled, eyes full of longing.

“What else could it be? It must be an immortal pill formula. I’ve seen alchemists in the sect refining pills before, but none of them are as skillful as Master. Look at the color of that fire, that cauldron...” Lin Feng whispered to Li Jianren.

“Heh heh. Old Mei’s Auspicious Pill Furnace is a rare treasure under heaven. Don’t be fooled by its small size; inside it can contain an entire cosmos. Refining a whole dragon would be no problem. Do you know what pill this is? The Three Immortals Return-to-Origin Pill! With this in hand, when the next tribulation comes, Old Mei will have a ninety percent chance of surviving it.” Mei Yunqi said proudly.

“Master is truly formidable! Besides the spirit herb, what else is needed to refine the Three Immortals Return-to-Origin Pill?” Li Jianren seized the chance to give a thumbs-up.

“There’s a great deal. Take the three immortals alone: Thousand-Year Jade Herb, Thunderwood Fruit, and Phoenix Sun Grass. Old Mei spent twenty years searching before gathering these ingredients.” Mei Yunqi sighed. “Still, I should count myself fairly lucky. In this world, how many can pass through their tribulations safely? One lives one day at a time.”

As he spoke, a trace of helplessness appeared on his face. So what if one was an immortal exile? If one could not survive the ninth heavenly tribulation, one would still die. From ancient times to the present, no one had ever heard of an immortal exile enduring to the end. Heaven’s way was merciless, and its punishment for those who defied it was never lenient.

Violet flames danced wildly, and the cauldron lid trembled endlessly. Half an hour later, Mei Yunqi’s expression grew grave. He carefully controlled the fire, rotating the silver cauldron so it would heat evenly. The refining had reached its critical moment.

Just then, Li Chi suddenly shouted, “Run! This furnace is going to explode!”

Lin Feng turned pale with shock. Though Li Chi’s origins were unknown, nearly everything he had said had come true. The two of them were like grasshoppers tied to the same rope; he would never speak recklessly for no reason.

At that moment, violet flames on the silver cauldron flickered like lightning in dragon form. Heat surged upward as though it were melting the very space around it. Twisted fire and pill qi mingled together, forming four clouds of different colors suspended in the air. Then the furnace suddenly began to swell and contract with alarming speed, spewing out vast quantities of medicinal vapor and sparks. Even a fool could tell that something had truly gone wrong.

“Run, Brother Li!”

Without caring for anything else, Lin Feng grabbed Li Jianren and fled. As for Mei Yunqi, if a cauldron could blast an immortal exile to death, then he might as well die.

The two of them sprinted a hundred paces. Behind them came a deafening crash. In the pitch-black night, a mushroom-shaped cloud of fire rose into the sky. All the plum trees in the valley trembled violently, petals flying like snow, while surging waves of heat rolled toward them. The two were knocked flat one after the other.

“How could this happen? How could this happen?”

Lin Feng muttered blankly. The last time the Blossom Sect had suffered an alchemical explosion, it had been caused by Yao Sansi. But this time the pill had been refined by an immortal exile himself. How could it fail?

It made no sense. There was no reason it should have failed.

Snow, shattered branches, and fragments blasted up by the cauldron still had not settled. They fell in confusion through the valley, leaving everything in ruins. Only half of the two thatched cottages remained, and before the house Mei Yunqi stood dumbly with a handful of broken cauldron shards in his hands, his eyes vacant.