The days following our chilling discovery were spent in deep and meticulous preparation. The mountain of herbs in our storeroom was no longer just a treasure trove; it was my arsenal, my library, and my laboratory all at once. My new objective was singular and immensely challenging: I had to succeed where the long-dead alchemist Feng Moyuan had failed. I had to create the Spiritual Insight Pill.
I secluded myself in the "Forge of Souls," poring over the alchemist's journal. His notes on the theoretical pill were both a guide and a warning. A standard alchemist in this world used a cauldron as their vessel and their soul energy as a tool to melt, purify, and fuse the medicinal essences of herbs. The process was difficult but followed an established, logical framework.
My task was a leap into the unknown. I had to merge two fundamentally different types of energy: the life-essence of plants and the spiritual-essence of sentient beasts. Feng Moyuan's journal was filled with descriptions of his failures. He wrote of the energies repelling each other with explosive force, of the delicate spiritual remnants being instantly corrupted by the raw elemental power of the herbs, and of concoctions that would simply collapse into inert, useless dust. He concluded that the two energies were like oil and water; they were simply not meant to mix.
But he was missing a key component. He was missing the unique advantages granted to me by my templates. The strategic mind of Taigong Wang allowed me to see the flaws in his methodology, to analyze the process not as a chemist, but as a general planning a campaign. The purification affinity of Tang Sanzang gave me a tool to soothe the volatile reactions, to impose a conceptual 'calm' on the warring energies. And most importantly, my Foreigner-class nature as Yang Guifei gave me an instinctual, otherworldly understanding of fusing disparate concepts. I was a being whose very existence was a fusion of the mundane and the cosmic. What was merging two types of energy compared to that?
My "Soul-Guiding Hand" would be the loom upon which I would weave these two threads together. I would not simply mix them; I would braid them, using my own spirit as the binding agent. The theory was sound. The execution, however, would be another matter entirely.
On the third day of my research, I decided I was ready.
The air in the forge was still and cool. I had meticulously laid out my chosen materials on the central stone platform. Three Purple-leafed Orchids, their petals radiating a calming aura. A handful of star-shaped flowers whose crisp scent was said to clear the mind. Several other supplementary herbs, each chosen for their gentle and stabilizing properties. Beside them, I placed five of the highest-quality Tier 1 Monster Cores I possessed, all taken from beasts whose spiritual remnants I had found to be placid and less chaotic.
Ming stood by the sealed stone door, his arms crossed. His usual easy-going demeanor was gone, replaced by a tense, focused vigilance.
"Okay, Qing-er," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I've layered the Infinity barrier around the platform. It's thicker than ever. It should contain a small to medium-sized alchemical explosion. Just... try to keep it under the 'demolish our new house' level, alright?"
His attempt at humor did little to ease the tension. We both knew how dangerous this was. I gave him a determined nod, and he sealed the final layer of his barrier, the air around me shimmering for a moment before becoming perfectly still.
I took my position before the platform and began.
I had no cauldron. I would need to use my own Dou Qi as the vessel. I extended my hands, and a soft, controlled flame, born of my Yang Guifei affinity, bloomed in my left palm. I carefully levitated the first herb, the Star-Anise Flower, over the flame. This was a test of pure control. The heat had to be perfect—hot enough to break down the plant's physical structure but not so hot that it incinerated the delicate medicinal essence within.
The flower began to wilt, curling in on itself before melting into a single, shimmering drop of emerald-green liquid. The drop hovered in the air, held in place by my Dou Qi. One by one, I repeated the process, my focus absolute. Each herb was broken down into its purest liquid essence, until half a dozen glowing, multi-colored droplets floated before me, a miniature constellation of alchemical power.
That was the first part. The second required a different kind of finesse. I turned my attention to the Monster Cores. Activating my "Soul-Guiding Hand," I reached out with five threads of my spirit simultaneously. The familiar process of soothing, extracting, and purifying the soul remnants began, but this time, it was a synchronized dance. Five wisps of grey, chaotic energy were drawn out, and I used my spiritual fire to refine them all at once into five tiny, pure-white motes of light.
Now, I had the two sets of components hovering before me: the vibrant, life-filled essences of the herbs, and the pure, spiritual energy of the beast souls. The air crackled with their proximity, the two disparate energy types naturally repelling each other. This was the point where Feng Moyuan had always failed.
I took a deep, centering breath and began the final, most critical step: fusion.
I guided the droplets of medicinal liquid together. They merged easily, forming a single, larger orb of swirling green and gold light that pulsed with potent life energy. Then, I guided the five motes of spiritual energy, merging them into a swirling orb of pure white soul-power.
The two orbs hovered a few feet apart, radiating waves of antagonistic energy. Now, for the impossible.
With an act of supreme will, I pushed the two orbs towards each other.
The moment they touched, the reaction was violent. The energies clashed with a silent, furious shriek that I felt deep in my soul. The merged orb began to vibrate erratically, flashing and sparking, threatening to fly apart in a devastating explosion. Ming tensed by the door, his own power ready to intervene.
I didn't panic. I had anticipated this. Pouring my concentration and a vast amount of my Dou Qi into the "Soul-Guiding Hand," I plunged dozens of my finest soul-threads into the warring ball of energy. I wasn't trying to force them together anymore. I was acting as a mediator, a weaver.
I could feel the two energies distinctly. The herbal essence was like wild, growing vines—full of life but chaotic and untamed. The soul essence was like still, deep water—pure but resistant to change. Using my soul-threads, I began to braid them. I wrapped a thread of "calm" from my Tang Sanzang template around a flaring tendril of elemental energy. I used the analytical insight from my Taigong Wang template to find a weak point in the spiritual energy's "surface tension," allowing a sliver of herbal essence to penetrate it. I was no longer just a conduit; I was the loom itself.
It was the most mentally taxing thing I had ever done. My vision swam, and sweat poured down my face. My Dou Qi reserves were draining at an alarming rate. But I held on, my will an iron anchor in the storm of energy.
And then, I felt a shift. The violent rejection began to subside. The two energies, guided and bound by my own spirit, stopped fighting and began to tentatively merge. The wild green and the placid white swirled together, not as a chaotic mixture, but as a perfect, harmonious blend. A new, stable energy was being born.
Seeing my chance, I began the final step: condensation. I exerted my Dou Qi, creating an immense field of pressure around the now-stable orb of silvery-green liquid, forcing it to compress, to solidify.
The light of the orb intensified, becoming blindingly bright for a moment before it rapidly faded. When my vision cleared, the floating constellation of liquids and lights was gone. Resting in the center of the stone platform was a single, perfect pill.
It was the size of a marble, its surface a smooth, milky white. Just beneath the surface, faint patterns of pure silver swirled lazily, like mist trapped within polished marble. It emitted no heat, only a cool, calming fragrance that seemed to wash over my mind, clearing away my exhaustion and leaving behind a feeling of profound tranquility.
I had done it.
A wave of triumphant, golden notifications, more brilliant than any before, filled my mind's eye.
[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT: UNPRECEDENTED ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!]
[Congratulations, User! You have successfully merged two distinct cultivation disciplines—Alchemy and Soul Forging—to create a unique, Tier 3 Pill: [Spiritual Insight Pill]!]
[This act of profound innovation has resonated deeply with the core principles of your equipped Templates!]
[Title Unlocked: [Budding Alchemist] - Passively increases success rate and reduces energy consumption for all alchemical processes.]
[Due to the synergistic nature of this achievement, all Template Synchronization rates have received a significant boost!]
[Yang Guifei Sync Rate: 3.12% -> 3.72% (+0.6%)]
[Taigong Wang Sync Rate: 2.65% -> 3.25% (+0.6%)]
[Tang Sanzang Sync Rate: 2.48% -> 3.08% (+0.6%)]
I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me, the result of complete mental and physical exhaustion. I slumped to the floor, my legs giving out, but my face was alight with a smile of pure victory.
The Infinity barrier dissipated, and Ming rushed to my side, his face a picture of awe, relief, and utter disbelief. He looked from my exhausted form to the single, perfect pill glowing softly on the platform.
"You… you actually did it, Qing-er," he breathed, crouching beside me. "You're a monster. A beautiful, terrifying, pill-making monster."
I just laughed, the sound weak but filled with triumph. I pushed myself up and walked on trembling legs to the platform. I picked up the pill. It felt cool and smooth in my hand, humming with a gentle, latent power.
This was our bait. This was the key to our entire gambit. This was the first shot in our silent war.
I looked at Ming, my eyes shining with a new, dangerous confidence.
"Now," I said, my voice steady and strong. "We go fishing."