WebNovels

Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: Tavern Talk and Dark Currents

The Drunken Immortal Tavern was one of the most prestigious restaurants in Zhuyun Town.

Three stories tall, it sat on a foundation of solid bluestone, with walls and pillars made from old, polished spirit bamboo that glimmered with a natural sheen. Its upturned eaves and elegant, swooping corners gave it a grandeur far beyond the average shop. Outside, rows of bright red lanterns hung in neat lines, the golden calligraphy of "Drunken Immortal Tavern" glowing across their surface—a dazzling sight that proclaimed this was the best place in town.

At the entrance, carriages and spirit-beasts came and went. Cultivators of every type passed through: some in luxurious silks, some in rugged gear, all in lively groups, laughing and talking as they stepped inside.

The moment they crossed the threshold, Lin Rui and Wang Ting were hit by a wall of heat and noise—a heady blend of wine and food aromas, mingled with the faint, strange fragrance of rare spiritual ingredients. The main hall was packed and loud, with voices, laughter, and the clatter of bowls and chopsticks all blending together. Waiters in crisp jackets weaved expertly between the crowded tables, balancing trays loaded with delicacies.

Lin Rui's steps hesitated for a heartbeat.

A flood of memories rose unbidden. Before his father disappeared, this was where they would come for a treat. His favorite dish back then had been the honey-glazed fire ham, while his father always ordered a pot of Azure Bamboo Immortal Brew. Those moments—his father's gentle smile, the rare warmth—felt achingly distant. After his father vanished, Lin Rui never returned. The prices alone made it impossible, and the mood was never right.

A sharp-eyed waiter in a neat vest spotted Wang Ting's flamboyant purple robes and immediately broke into a wide grin, hustling over with practiced enthusiasm. 

"Master Wang! It's been ages! This way, please! The usual table?"

Wang Ting waved a hand, casual as always. 

"Not today. I've brought a friend—find us a quieter spot." 

His eyes swept the room and settled on a corner table by the window. 

"That'll do."

"Of course!"

They sat down. Through the window, Lin Rui could see the steady flow of people outside; inside, the racket was even more intense.

Wang Ting grabbed the menu, though his eyes kept drifting over to Lin Rui, a glint of curiosity on his face.

"Waiter! Menu!" he called, and when the waiter returned, he rattled off the order without hesitation: "Bring us your best dishes! Roasted Snow Rabbit Legs—make them crispy on the outside and juicy inside. Steamed Green Creek Carp, with extra scallions and ginger. Three-Treasure Bamboo Forest Stew. That new Dragon-Scale Crimson Prawn dish—one of those. And the Flaming Drunken Immortal Chicken, just for the look of it. Also, a Jade-and-Emerald Broth, to clear the palate. For the staple, two bowls of Fragrant Spirit-Grain Rice. Oh, and warm up a pot of your finest Drunken Immortal Brew!"

Lin Rui's lips twitched. 

"Master Wang, are you trying to buy out the whole kitchen? There are just two of us."

Wang Ting let the menu fall to the table with a light thud, arching an eyebrow and slouching back in his chair, arm thrown over the back with easy confidence. His peach-blossom eyes gleamed under the lanterns.

"Come on, Lin Rui, don't be so polite. I'm treating, so you'd better eat your fill. Besides, if I want to pry the truth out of you, I've got to put some real effort in, right? Unlike certain people, who are so stingy, it's like pulling teeth just to get a meal out of them. No style at all." He let that line hang, his eyes flicking meaningfully toward a corner of the room, even though Lin Rui knew full well Wang Ruohan wasn't there.

Lin Rui couldn't help but laugh inwardly. Wang Ting never misses a chance to roast his cousin. He didn't point it out, just sipped the tea on the table.

Soon, a parade of beautifully arranged dishes began to arrive.

Wang Ting went straight for the Dragon-Scale Crimson Prawns. The meat was springy and rich with spirit energy; he closed his eyes in delight, chewing with clear satisfaction before fixing Lin Rui with a sideways look. 

"So, Rui—what really happened at the ancestral hall? Did your ancestors… y'know…" He made a mysterious gesture. "And since when can you cultivate? Weren't you supposed to have the worst talent in the family?"

Lin Rui tore into a piece of roasted rabbit, chewing slowly, all the while watching Wang Ting's face for the real purpose behind the dinner. He knew food was the least of it.

He finally answered, "That day? Maybe the ancestors really did take pity on me. As for cultivation, my father left behind some notes. I fooled around with them, and… it worked out better than I thought."

Wang Ting raised his eyebrows, clearly unconvinced, but didn't push.

He poured himself a cup of Drunken Immortal Brew—the fragrance thick and mellow, with a clean edge of bamboo. 

"Fine, have it your way. I'm not here to interrogate you—besides, the Wang family has more than one set of eyes in town." Wang Ting flashed a sly grin, then switched gears without missing a beat. 

"But now that you've got your shiny new cultivator's token, you must be completely clueless about how this world actually works, right? Don't be shy—ask away! Your big bro here is an officially registered, meridian-awakened cultivator, experienced and benevolent. Any question, just fire—satisfaction guaranteed, or your meal is free."

He thumped his chest for emphasis, wearing that trademark cocky smile.

Lin Rui had been waiting for this. He put down his half-eaten rabbit leg and wiped his hands, eyes brightening. 

"Well, since you offered, I really do have a few things I need to ask, Brother Wang. For starters, what's the real deal with this so-called 'Spirit Web feedback' everyone keeps talking about? And about the quests—how do they work, what types are there, and is there anything a rookie like me should look out for? The notice boards in the market are plastered with all sorts of odd jobs."

Wang Ting perked up, as if someone had just thrown him the perfect setup for a bragging session. His chest puffed out with pride. 

"Oh, you asked the right guy. 'Spirit Web feedback'—now that's where things get interesting. Think of the Spirit Web as this invisible net, woven all throughout the world, watching everything. Whenever you do something meaningful—solve problems, keep the peace, handle dangerous beasts, whatever—you're basically sending a ripple through the Web. The Web likes those good ripples. Sometimes it'll reward you—could be smoother qi absorption when you're cultivating, maybe breaking through gets easier, or sometimes you just find a spirit stone lying in your path. That's what people call good fortune or luck—only here, it's measurable."

Lin Rui raised an eyebrow. "What if you do the opposite—bad things?"

Wang Ting smirked, flicking a bit of fish bone off his chopsticks. 

"Then the Web bites back, naturally. At best, your cultivation gets rough, your mind gets plagued with inner demons. At worst? You step outside and get zapped by a random lightning bolt, or choke on your spirit tea. That's why everyone hates demonic cultivators—their crimes screw up the Web, so the backlash is brutal. Bad karma in this world isn't just a saying. It's practically a law of nature."

He paused to snag another bite of the steamed spirit carp, savoring it. 

"Now, quests. Official quests, the ones posted by the Celestial Law Division, are the safest—stuff like patrolling the town, investigating weird incidents, or protecting the locals. The pay's decent, and you build up your reputation. As a newbie, you'll mostly get 'Mortal-level' errands—courier work, fetching herbs, simple guard jobs. Not glamorous, but steady, and no one's trying to kill you."

"What about the others?" Lin Rui pressed.

"Internal jobs—those come from the big families or sects. Your Lin family probably has posts for guarding medicine fields, processing spirit teas, that sort of thing. Those are mostly kept in-house. Then you've got the market jobs—private commissions and open bounties, posted by shops or wandering cultivators. That's the Wild West. High risk, high reward. Sometimes they're easy, sometimes you're signing up for trouble."

Wang Ting leaned back, a sly glint in his eye. "But hey, if you're ever strapped for spirit stones, your big bro here's got deep pockets. Don't be shy—just name a number."

He looked every inch the high-rolling scion, waving off imaginary piles of spirit stones like he was tossing coins to street performers.

Lin Rui chuckled and shook his head, lifting his teacup in a mock toast. 

"I appreciate it, but I'm good for now. If I ever end up dead broke, you'll be the first to know. But until then, I'd rather solve my own problems."

Borrow money from Wang Ting? Not a chance. 

Lin Rui had survived on his own twice over; if there was one thing he hated more than losing, it was owing favors, especially ones with strings attached. Besides, after a lifetime of odd gigs and hustles, he trusted his skills far more than anyone's charity.

Wang Ting didn't seem the least bit offended. In fact, he laughed, raising his cup. 

"Suit yourself! Got to respect a man with backbone. Unlike certain people," he added, voice dropping, "who act broke all day long—might as well tattoo 'I need resources' on their foreheads."

He tossed a piece of Flaming Drunken Immortal Chicken into his mouth, hissing softly as the spice hit, but clearly loving every bite.

Then he leaned in, dropping his voice conspiratorially, eyes flickering with that trademark Wang-family gossipy sparkle. "Speaking of juicy news—after your ancestral hall stunt, there was a real uproar. My uncle—Ruohan's dad—called him in for a private chat that very night. Gave him an earful, apparently."

He paused dramatically, savoring the moment as he watched Lin Rui's reaction.

"What was said, I don't know. But word is, Ruohan came out looking like he'd been chewing nails—sour and stubborn as ever. The past few days, he's been hell to live with; anyone who crosses his path gets it."

Wang Ting cackled, a hint of schadenfreude lighting up his face. Then, as if suddenly struck by inspiration, he clapped Lin Rui on the shoulder, putting on a performance of regretful sympathy. 

"Honestly, it's his own fault. That guy never could see what's right in front of him. If he'd just had a little more guts and married you when he had the chance, none of this mess would've happened! You wouldn't have had to put up with so much crap, and our Wang family wouldn't have missed out on such a smart and—" he paused, letting his voice go soft and teasing, "—cute little sister-in-law."

He let the phrase hang in the air, eyes twinkling mischievously, clearly savoring the mental image of a full-blown family soap opera.

Pfft—Cough! Cough, cough!

Lin Rui, who had just taken a sip of the Jade and Emerald Soup, nearly snorted it out of his nose, breaking into a fit of coughing that left his face flushed red.

The rest of the meal played out as a lively, guarded dance. Wang Ting, ever the fox, kept poking for secrets about Lin Rui's "resurrection" and sudden leap in cultivation, but Lin Rui was as slippery as they came—half-truths, outright nonsense, and just enough openness to keep Wang Ting chasing his own tail. All the while, Lin Rui kept turning the tables, prying bits of news about Zhuyun Town's movers and shakers, and gathering local gossip.

By the end, the table was still covered with dishes, especially the untouched Dragon-Scale Crimson Prawns and the Three-Treasure Bamboo-Sea Stew. Under Wang Ting's mildly baffled gaze, Lin Rui calmly beckoned the waiter.

"Excuse me, could you pack all this up?"

"Huh? Oh, of course!" The waiter hesitated for half a second before hustling off to fetch a stack of elegant food boxes. In this world—especially among cultivators of their social rank—almost nobody took leftovers home. Saving face was everything.

Wang Ting stroked his chin, watching as Lin Rui smoothly directed the waiter to sort each dish. 

This kid, he thought, is full of surprises. 

The timid, wall-hugging "waste" of the Lin family really had vanished after that ancestral hall debacle. What was left was calm, practical, tough—and, weirdly enough, very real. Not like Ruohan, who spent all day worried about posture and appearances. No, Lin Rui was practical to the bone, not bound by "noble" nonsense.

"I have to say, little brother Rui, you're… very thrifty," Wang Ting teased, though there was some real admiration in it.

Lin Rui weighed the boxed-up food in his hand, eyebrow cocked. 

"Waste is a crime, Brother Wang. These dishes cost spirit stones, and they're good. Late-night snack or tomorrow's lunch—what's not to love? Or are you the type to throw money away?"

The matter-of-fact tone and rhetorical question left Wang Ting speechless. 

This kid wasn't just sharp, but had a hide like city walls. 

Worse, half the time, his logic was bulletproof in the weirdest way. For a second, Wang Ting honestly wondered if the Wang family had gotten the better or the worse in breaking off that engagement. Watching Lin Rui now, it really seemed Ruohan was the one who'd lost out.

They left the Drunken Immortal Tavern together, stepping into the bamboo-scented night air. Lin Rui's head cleared as the breeze brushed his cheeks, one hand heavy with food boxes, the other unconsciously pressing the slim booklets from the Celestial Law Division—new rules, new knowledge, new world. He'd have to digest it all later, along with ideas for reinforcing that fragile wisp of Verdant Qi in his Dantian.

Wang Ting let out a satisfied burp, cheeks tinged pink with wine. 

"Need an escort home, little brother? Night's dark, town's rough. What if you run into a robber, with your current level of cultivation…" He drew out the words with mock solemnity.

Lin Rui shot him a sideways look. 

"Maybe you should worry about yourself. Don't go falling into the Green Creek River and feeding the fish."

They strolled together, cutting through the last of the busy market into a quiet back alley flanked by high courtyard walls and dappled bamboo shadows. Somewhere, a dog barked, deepening the silence.

Suddenly, from up ahead, a staggering figure lurched out of the gloom, calling out something garbled as he barreled straight toward them.

The man moved fast, trailing a heavy stench of scorched herbs and medicine. Lin Rui's eyes narrowed; he shifted the food to one hand, body tensing on instinct.

"Pill… pill toxin! Help… help…"

He collapsed just three steps from Lin Rui, face an ugly purplish-blue, lips black, limbs twitching faintly. A tiny jade vial was clenched in his hand.

Lin Rui's instincts kicked in. He knelt beside the man, checking him over. The old man wore plain clothes, but his hands were surprisingly well-kept—nails trimmed, a dusting of medicine powder still in the creases.

Wang Ting stepped over, brow raised. 

"Well, look at that. Isn't this Old Li from Thousand-Skill Pavilion? The one who scavenges failed pills and medicine dregs, claims he can turn trash into treasure? What happened to him?"

His tone was playful, but his eyes were darting, sharp. 

"I mean, Rui, you just got your cultivator's token, haven't even started taking official quests, and already Heaven's giving you a pop-up mission? Not bad for your first 'random event'!"

For all the banter, something tight and serious flickered in Wang Ting's gaze. Li's shout had been "pill toxin." Pill poisoning was rare in a town like Zhuyun, and Old Li was supposed to be an expert in handling this stuff.

Wang Ting jerked his chin down the alley. 

"Your Lin family's Bamboo Spring Hall is just ahead. Let's get him there—better than letting the old guy die in the street. That'd be bad luck."

Ignoring the wisecracks, Lin Rui hoisted Li onto his back. The old man was burning hot, but there was a weird, invasive chill beneath his skin.

Bamboo Spring Hall was brightly lit, apprentices bustling among racks of herbs. When Lin Rui entered, a middle-aged physician came hurrying over. 

"What happened?"

"Pill toxin," Lin Rui said, laying Li on a treatment bed.

The physician was seasoned. After a quick check—looking, smelling, asking—he pricked a black drop of blood from Li's finger and put it on a special jade plate. His frown deepened as he watched it react.

"Strange. This is Withered Vine Poison, an extremely rare wood-aligned toxin, usually extracted from the heart of thousand-year-old vines. Incredibly vicious—corrodes life force in seconds. Most people would be dead already. But this old fellow…" The physician clicked his tongue, studying Li again. "He must have built up a resistance from years of working with pill dregs, and maybe ate some unusual fruit in his youth that changed his body—otherwise he'd have been gone long before now."

Wang Ting whistled. 

"A thousand-year vine? Where would Old Li even run into something like that?"

As he was puzzling this out, the inner hall's bead curtain parted. Today, Lin Tiancheng wore a dark green brocade robe. He strode out, eyes immediately finding Lin Rui, then Wang Ting. His brow creased, just for an instant.

"Rui'er, what are you doing here?" His voice was quiet, but carried a weight that could not be questioned.

Lin Rui quickly recounted how he'd found Old Li poisoned and collapsed in the street.

After listening, Lin Tiancheng's gaze flicked between the unconscious Old Man Li and Lin Rui, his face unreadable, weighing some internal calculation. Finally, he spoke—his tone layered with meanings Lin Rui couldn't quite parse.

"Since you have a knack for the Dao of Pills, and you just happened to save this Old Li, why don't you… Start as an apprentice in the Pill House?"

Lin Rui blinked, caught entirely off guard. This turn was way too abrupt. The Lin family's Pill House?

Wang Ting's eyes nearly popped out of his head. 

The Pill House was a core institution, directly under the control of the inner hall. Ordinary branch disciples would fight tooth and nail for a shot at entry, and most never even got close. And here was Lin Tiancheng, just offering Lin Rui a position? What in the world?

Around the clinic, a handful of Lin family apprentices stopped mid-task, shooting Lin Rui sidelong glances and murmuring to each other.

"The Pill House? For Lin Rui? Did I hear that right?"

"Isn't he… you know…?"

"What's Master Tiancheng playing at? Maybe that whole 'ancestral manifestation' story was real?"

The whispers were quiet, but clear enough for everyone to catch.

Lin Rui's mind spun. What was his uncle up to? A "lucky" apprenticeship in the Pill House could just as easily be a setup. Was this a chance to learn, or a way to put him somewhere he could be watched? Maybe both.

The physician beside him wiped his brow and lowered his voice. 

"To be honest, Manager Tiancheng, this isn't the first case of pill poisoning lately. Most of the victims were nameless rogue cultivators—hardly enough to get the Celestial Law Division involved."

Lin Tiancheng's face didn't change, but his eyes narrowed just a hair. He slipped a piece of jade from his sleeve—a deep green token, faintly glowing, carved with a complex serpent totem—an Inner Hall badge.

"Lin Rui. Take out your cultivator's token."

Lin Rui did as told, producing his fresh Azure Bamboo Jade Token.

Lin Tiancheng held out his own badge, then formed a sword-finger with his other hand and tapped Lin Rui's token. He chanted quietly, the words carrying an odd, ritualistic cadence:

"By the Spirit Web's will and Law's decree,

A matter begun, a task for thee."

As the words faded, a thread of blue-green light shimmered between the tokens. Faint currents of qi gathered, then vanished. Lin Rui's token warmed in his palm, then cooled.

So this is how quests are assigned here, Lin Rui thought. Much easier than paperwork.

Lin Tiancheng slipped his badge away, barely glancing at Lin Rui. 

"Your job in the Pill House is to learn. Everything else, play it by ear."

With that, he turned and swept out of the room.

Wang Ting stared after him, stunned. It took a long moment for him to snap out of it. 

"Tsk, tsk. Brother Rui, your luck… It's off the charts."

...

The next morning, Lin Rui changed into the standard indigo linen uniform of a Pill House apprentice and arrived at the gates right on time. The Pill House was buried deep within the Lin compound, a cluster of courtyards heavy with the scent of medicinal herbs and the lingering heat of alchemical fires.

The manager, a goateed middle-aged cultivator everyone called Manager Liu, barely looked at him before tossing over a rag and a wooden bucket. 

"New, huh? Start by scrubbing the outer courtyard cauldrons. Then go to Storage Room C—sort the new Iron-Thread Grass and Dew-Condensing Flowers by year and quality. Move fast."

Lin Rui nodded, wordless. He grabbed the tools and got to work.

The cauldrons were crusted with old medicine ash; scrubbing them down took real elbow grease. Still, he cleaned every one until they gleamed. Next, the storeroom: shelves crammed with spirit herbs, the air thick with medicinal aroma. He quietly sorted and stacked the herbs, just as Manager Liu had ordered.

For days, Lin Rui did nothing but menial chores: cleaning cauldrons, grinding herbs, chopping firewood, hauling crates. He acted the perfect apprentice—silent, diligent, never complaining. At first, the other apprentices eyed him sideways, all having heard the rumor he was some "connections guy" sent by Tiancheng himself. But seeing him keep his head down and work, they soon lost interest. To them, he was just another lucky kid from the branches trying to earn a little experience, nothing more.

At noon, the apprentices gathered in the outer yard for a quick meal. Lin Rui sat quietly with his bowl of spirit-grain rice, listening in as the others gossiped.

"Hey, did you hear? They say the inner hall is working on a new pill recipe," whispered a round-faced apprentice, glancing around as if sharing a secret.

A lanky boy scoffed. 

"What's that got to do with us in the outer court? We'll never get near it. But you have to admit, the smell wafting over lately is getting weird. It's got this… sweet, almost sickly edge. Like something burnt underneath."

"Tell me about it!" The round-faced apprentice jumped in, eager to contribute. 

"Just the other day, I was delivering a cleaned jade mortar to the inner hall, and the smell nearly knocked me out! No idea what the elders are brewing in there, but whatever it is, it's a big production. It's never been like this before."

A slightly older apprentice cast a nervous glance around.

"Shh—keep your voice down! You want to lose your job, gossiping about the inner hall? Some things are above our pay grade."

The group instantly quieted, heads down, busying themselves with lunch.

Lin Rui pushed rice around in his bowl, deep in thought.

The Pill House was divided into inner and outer sections; the inner hall was strictly off-limits to ordinary apprentices, and recently, that strange smell kept drifting out… It reminded him of the way "leftover" herbs in Storage D had pulses of peculiar vitality.

That afternoon, Manager Liu assigned more work sorting herbs.

Lin Rui noticed an opportunity. Off to one side, a scholarly-looking young cultivator—a few years older than the others—was carefully comparing some rare herbs to an old, dog-eared compendium. This was Li Qing, known to have a talent for alchemy, though he was notoriously aloof and rarely spoke, spending his days buried in herbs and cauldrons.

Cradling a basket of freshly dried Dawn Dew Grass, Lin Rui approached.

"Senior Brother Li," he said, keeping his voice low and respectful, "I'm new here, and honestly, I'm lost when it comes to all these herbs. For example, why are some Dawn Dew Grass so vividly green, while others have a bit of yellow? Does that make a difference in their properties?"

Li Qing glanced up from his compendium, regarding Lin Rui with a hint of surprise—apparently not expecting a "connections guy" to come seeking real advice. But Lin Rui's expression was earnest, not faked, and he recalled how diligent the newcomer had been these last few days. Li Qing put down his book and gestured at the grass.

"Dawn Dew Grass is slightly cold in nature and best harvested at peak morning dew. The bright green ones are full of moisture and more potent. If they're yellowish, it means they were picked late, or dried out too much, and their properties are weaker." He paused, then quoted, "As the Compendium of Spirit Herbs says: 'Picked at the proper time, the property is pure; missed, it is mixed.'"

Lin Rui's eyes lit up. 

"So if you're refining a Clear Mind Pill, the greener Dawn Dew Grass would be best?"

A tiny, nearly imperceptible smile flickered at the corner of Li Qing's mouth, as if Lin Rui's curiosity had won him over just a bit. 

"Clear Mind Pills are meant to calm fire and cool the mind. Dawn Dew Grass is just an adjunct; you'll also need Tranquil Blossom to balance the chill, plus a small amount of powdered Brightling Fruit kernel to activate the mixture. It's all about the principle of 'ruler, minister, assistant, envoy'—each plays a role."

Over the next few days, Lin Rui kept finding excuses to consult Li Qing.

He asked about everything—from the hot/cold balance of herbs, to the cycles of the five elements, to the logic of combining materials for basic recipes. Li Qing gradually lost his initial chill, and sometimes even elaborated more than necessary.

One day, Lin Rui took the opportunity to gather information. 

"Senior Brother Li, what causes pill toxins? Is it always just poor timing or bad mixes?"

Li Qing was carefully shaving a sliver of Ironwood Root with a delicate jade knife. He didn't pause, answering in his usual calm. 

"There are many reasons. Sometimes the herbs themselves are at fault. A harmless herb might become poisonous in combination with something else, or when exposed to high heat in the cauldron. More dangerously, some spirit plants, if tainted by miasma or bored by parasitic spirit worms as they grow, undergo subtle, unpredictable changes. If they go undetected, the consequences are dire. As the Essentials of Alchemy says, 'A single careless thought turns medicine to deadly sand.'"

Lin Rui nodded, then casually changed the subject. 

"By the way, the other day when I was cleaning in Storage D, I noticed some of those discarded herbs—though charred—still seemed…"

"Storage D?" Li Qing's brows knitted, cutting him off. His jade knife paused on the root. There was a new sharpness to his gaze, and his tone cooled a degree. 

"Those are just ruined remnants and spent materials. Not worth your attention. You're just starting—focus on the basics. To truly know herbs, you need eye, hand, and heart—especially the heart. Only then can you sense the core vitality of a material…"

And just like that, he steered the conversation back to safe ground.

Lin Rui didn't press, but his suspicions deepened.

Sweeping out Storage D had become his regular task.

Manager Liu, seeing him work so hard without complaint, was happy to let him be.

Whenever no one was watching, Lin Rui would quietly scratch little marks on a piece of charcoal, recording the types and approximate quantities of "waste" herbs he found each day.

Within three days, a pattern started to emerge.

Every two or three days, large amounts of charred Iron-Thread Grass and Dragonblood Vine would appear in Storage D—precisely the main ingredients for a low-grade body-tempering pill called Greenvine Tempering Pill, as described in the Essentials of Alchemy. Each time this surge happened, within a day or two, the strange, cloying, burnt-sweet odor from the inner hall grew noticeably stronger.

Lin Rui's ignorance of alchemy, which should have been a huge disadvantage, was suddenly the perfect cover. Nobody would bother keeping an eye on a "gofer" who could barely tell herbs apart. But the Pill House's secrets were slowly taking shape before his eyes: the "waste" in Storage D that still hummed with vital force, that peculiar scent from the inner hall, and Li Qing's evasive answers whenever certain topics came up…

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