The question hung in the air, so absurd it was like a physical blow. A one-year-old fern?
Master Feng stared at Li Xuan, his mind, sharpened by decades of alchemical knowledge, failing to find any logic in the statement. The apprentice, Chen, was less thoughtful.
"A weed?" he finally spat, his voice a mixture of scorn and rage. "You want a worthless weed? Are you mocking us? The Yan Clan's heirs are dying right in front of you, and you're playing some kind of sick game!"
Li Xuan didn't even waste a look on him. His blurry gaze remained fixed on the master alchemist, his expression one of profound disappointment, as if scolding a particularly slow student. "Your despair is useless," he said, his voice cold and flat. "Your questions are a waste of time that these children do not have. The fact that you see a sapling as a 'weed' is why you will always be an apprentice and never a true alchemist."
The insult, delivered so calmly, struck Master Feng harder than any shout.
Li Xuan gestured vaguely with his chin. "Bring me the youngest, healthiest fern you have. A pot of your most fertile Spirit Soil. And one mid-grade Qi-Gathering Pill."
That last command sucked the air from the room. If the first request was madness, this was suicide.
"Absolutely not!" Master Feng refused instantly, a flicker of genuine horror in his eyes. "That pill may be normal for cultivators, but boy, for a body as frail as yours, it would be like setting off a firework in a paper bag! It will kill you!"
"And your whining will kill them," Li Xuan shot back, his patience clearly gone. "They have hours, maybe less. Your way has failed. My way is the only option left on the table. Are you going to take it, or are you going to stand there and watch them die?"
The lead guard, Captain Gao, who had been watching this exchange with a clenched jaw, made the decision. His loyalty to the heirs overrode the clear insanity of the situation. "Do as he says, Master Feng," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "We have no other choice."
A tense, frantic energy filled the apothecary. Young Master Lu, his face pale with a mixture of fear and awe, scrambled to the back greenhouse and returned with a small, vibrant fern. Master Feng, his hands trembling, retrieved the glowing white pill from its jade box. He placed them on a large workshop table.
Li Xuan looked at the items, his mind a whirlwind of cold calculation.
'This is a terrible idea. A truly, monumentally stupid plan. This body's meridians are like dried twigs. The force of this pill is a flood. But it's the only plan I've got.'
He took a steadying breath. 'Since arriving in this world, I've been using the Wood Heart Sutra. It's been slowly healing my injuries, but it's also helped me accumulate a small, pure reserve of wood-attribute Qi. My own Qi is gentle, full of life. The pill's energy is a chaotic storm. I can't absorb it, but maybe... I can convert it. I can use my own wood Qi to tame that storm and channel its raw power into the plant. This whole process might fucking kill me. But I can't let this opportunity go to waste. High risk, high reward.'
He stepped forward, picked up the pill, and without a second's hesitation, swallowed it.
The moment it went down, a fucking volcano erupted in his stomach.
A brutal, chaotic storm of raw Qi smashed through his body. It was a wild, untamed power, a stark contrast to the gentle Wood Heart Sutra he had cultivated. He gritted his teeth as a wave of pure agony washed over him, feeling his own fragile energy channels start to strain and crack under the pressure.
'Crude power,' he thought, his mind a shard of ice in the heart of the inferno. 'No finesse, all force. But the volume… the volume is sufficient.'
Before the chaotic energy could tear him apart from the inside, he slammed his hands onto the pot. His own, small reserve of Wood Heart Qi, pure and full of life, rose up to meet the raging flood. It didn't fight it. It wrapped around the torrent of power like a skilled rider leaping onto the back of a wild, untamed beast.
His body became the battlefield. The pill's energy was a mindless, destructive force. His Wood Heart Qi was the divine will, the shepherd forcing the storm down a single, narrow path. It was an act of control so precise and demanding that any other consciousness would have shattered.
The onlookers could only stare in horror. A bright green light was now pouring out of the beggar boy's hands. His face was deathly pale, sweat streamed down his temples, and a thin trickle of blood, dark and crimson, ran from his nose. He looked like he was being torn apart from the inside.
But the plant was changing.
Before their very eyes, the small green sapling began to grow. Its stem creaked audibly as it thickened. Its leaves trembled and unfurled, darkening in waves from a light, spring green to a deep, ancient emerald. The air filled with a thick, rich scent of life so potent it was almost intoxicating. Master Feng watched, his alchemist's mind utterly broken, muttering, "Impossible… he's not just transferring Qi… he's creating pure life force…"
The miracle was powered by agony. Li Xuan felt his own life force being drained, his body screaming in protest as it served as a conduit for power it was never meant to contain. His vision, already blurry, began to fade to black at the edges.
'Just a little more,' his divine will roared at the failing flesh. 'Hold on, you useless sack of flesh! Complete the task!'
With a final, pained grunt that was lost in the sound of the pulsing energy, he shoved the last of the pill's power into the fern. The brilliant green light pulsed one last time, then vanished.
The small sapling was gone. In its place stood a gnarled, ancient-looking fern, pulsing with a visible, life-giving aura. It was a perfect, living Hundred-Year Sun-Kissed Fern.
The moment the process was complete, the energy was gone. The strength holding Li Xuan's body together vanished with it.
His eyes rolled back into his head, and he hit the floor like a stone.
The herb was there, a vibrant beacon of life on the table. But the boy who had created it was sprawled on the floor, unmoving.