Blossoming Path

"Please, pay me no mind," Elder Zhu said, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. "I'm merely here as an assistant."

I offered a sheepish grin, the weight of my cast-laden arm a tangible reminder of the delicate balance between ambition and capability. "Thank you, Elder. I just hope my... current predicament doesn't hinder the process too much."

The array of ingredients before me was meticulously arranged, illuminated by the brilliant moonlight that now bathed the pavilion just after midnight. I mentally rehearsed the procedure once more, ensuring the alchemical apparatus and tools were primed for the task at hand.

Recalling the unique preparation methods from my vision, I felt a twinge of apprehension. The precise handling required was daunting, especially with my injured hand cocooned in plaster.

Gaining access to the pavilion outside regular hours required an instructor's consent. The heavens smiled upon me when I encountered Elder Zhu securing the premises for the night.

Sensing my hesitation, he offered a reassuring smile. "The path of alchemy is fraught with challenges, Kai. But it is my duty as an instructor to help you overcome them. How may I assist you in this endeavor?"

Having his support was invaluable. I glanced downward, lamenting the loss of my dominant hand.

"If you could help me stir this into the moonlight water, Elder, I'd be much obliged. The essence... it's delicate, and I fear my current... clumsiness might not do it justice."

As Elder Zhu nodded in agreement, I turned my attention to the tienchi ginseng. It was time to work.

Unlike the brute force often employed in its preparation, the vision had shown a more nuanced approach that preserved its integrity. With a careful, one-handed maneuver, I mimicked the technique, slicing the ginseng with a precision that belied the awkwardness of my cast.

Without my dominant hand, I had to make sure I was more precise, taking it as slow as I needed. This portion of the recipe demanded accuracy, not speed. Perfect things take time, after all.

Next came the hyacinth orchid, its petals delicate and fragrant. I followed the vision's guidance, rubbing the petals between my fingers to release their essence, a method far removed from conventional practices yet somehow instinctively right.

The common reed required a subtler touch still. Instead of chopping, I tapped along its length with the flat of the blade, awakening its hidden properties in a manner that I had yet to fully understand.

Doubt nibbled at the edges of my focus as I worked. Had I captured every nuance of the recipe? The vision had been replayed countless times within the confines of my Memory Palace, each review a desperate attempt to understand the reasoning behind the figure's every move. Though the insights gleaned were sparse, they lent a certain sureness to my hands.

Ancestors guide me! Let this work!

With each ingredient prepared and placed in the alchemical still, I activated the flame under the equipment with a pulse of qi. Soon, the hydrosol would be ready. I turned to Elder Zhu. The memory of rejecting his offer to become his apprentice still stabbed away at me. To think he'd be so willing to help despite all that...

The anxiety of my potential clumsiness gave way to a quiet confidence, buoyed by Elder Zhu's steady presence. "Elder, your help tonight... it means more than I can say."

Elder Zhu chuckled softly, his focus unwavering from the bowl before him. "Kai, the pursuit of knowledge is a journey best shared. It's my honor to assist in bringing your vision to life."

As we worked in tandem, I could feel the glow of the spirit moss essence growing stronger. It seemed that even without being introduced to the water, the effect of moonlight making the spirit moss glow persisted.

"I think now would be the best time to start blending the essence with the water, Elder Zhu."

I glanced at the older man, who had begun the delicate task of blending the spirit moss essence with the moonlit water. His movements were measured and precise, a dance of shadow and light that mesmerized and inspired.

One day, maybe...No.

I will reach that realm. That level of expertise. I will reach it, without a doubt. Like the figure from my trance, like Elder Zhu, I'll be able to create the finest of pills and potions with a wave fo my hand!

"Is this satisfactory, Kai?"

He showed me the bowl. The bowl Elder Zhu held out to me shimmered with a captivating turquoise glow, a testament to his meticulous stirring.

"It's perfect, Elder. Thank you. I doubt I could have achieved such precision with my current handicap."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Elder Zhu placed the bowl carefully on the workbench, his eyes reflecting the mixture's gentle luminescence. I turned my attention to the alchemical still, where the hydrosol had been quietly accumulating, drop by drop, a clear liquid that held the promise of healing.

"Elder Zhu, might I impose upon your kindness once more?" I asked, gesturing towards the still. "The hydrosol needs to be introduced to the spirit moss-moonlight water mix slowly, in a steady stream, just as the figure in my vision demonstrated."

Without a word, Elder Zhu assisted, his hands steady as he manipulated the apparatus to allow the hydrosol to flow into the glowing bowl. The mixture's reaction was immediate; the glow intensified, casting an ethereal light that seemed to fill the pavilion. But as quickly as it flared, the glow simmered down to a persistent, gentle radiance.

Elder Zhu, his curiosity piqued, leaned in closer. "Is the concoction complete, then?"

I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Not quite. What makes this hydrosol special isn't just its healing properties, but its enduring glow. The spirit moss's effect typically fades swiftly, but this...this recipe ensures the glow remains, preserving its properties."

To test its efficacy, I gingerly removed the cast from my fractured hand, the plaster coming away with a soft crunch. The moonlight cast stark shadows over the healed yet still tender skin. I hesitated for only a moment before submerging my hand in the glowing mixture.

The sensation was unlike anything I'd experienceda gentle, tingling warmth that seeped deep into my skin, soothing the lingering ache in my bones. Elder Zhu watched, his expression thoughtful.

Minutes stretched on, the pavilion wrapped in a tranquil silence broken only by the soft murmur of the night. When I finally withdrew my hand, the anticipation was palpable. Flexing my fingers, I braced for the familiar stab of painbut it never came. The discomfort had been significantly alleviated, a clear sign of the hydrosol's potent healing capabilities.

Elder Zhu's eyes widened slightly, a rare show of surprise. "Remarkable," he murmured, his gaze shifting between my hand and the still-glowing mixture.

I couldn't help but smile. I tried to show a dignified side of me, but all I could muster was a bare whisper. "It worked, Elder. The recipe is complete."

Elder Zhu leaned in, his scholarly interest evident as he observed the persistent glow of the mixture. "This is most intriguing, Kai. The properties of this hydrosol... they remind me of a concoction I once read about in the ancient archives. There might be a historical precedent for your discovery."

"That's... quite an honor, Elder Zhu. To think my experimentation might align with the works of the great alchemists of old."

Perhaps that was intentional on the Heavenly Interface's part. Who knows how long it had existed, in those ruins waiting to be activated? Essence Extraction was an a ability only known to Master Li Tao, the previous head of the alchemy pavilion. But now, it was alive in me.

Stolen novel; please report.

Maybe even the Rooted Banyan Stance and Crimson Lotus Purification Method were skills or techniques that had been lost to time, revived by the Heavenly Interface.

Or maybe it's still out there somewhere, the closely guard secret of a sect. I suppose they wouldn't take too kindly to a civilian possessing their techniques. Then they'd probably send assassins after me, or make me pay for learning such a thing...

The thought of several Ping Hai-sized assassins aiming for my life terrified me.

I didn't want to think about it. Let's hope nobody else knows my techniques.

Elder Zhu placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, his smile warm in the moonlit pavilion. "It's more than an honor, Kai. It's a testament to your dedication and innovative spirit. To recreate and enhance a possibly forgotten alchemical recipe is no small feat."

I felt embarrassment flooding my cheeks. This praise was too much!

"Elder Zhu, this accomplishment... it isn't mine alone. Without the guidance of the Verdant Lotus Sect and your invaluable assistance tonight, I wouldn't have come this far. I believe the credit should be shared with the sect. I'd like to offer the recipe to our archives and assist in any way I can with producing more of the spirit moss essence."

The head of the alchemy pavilion regarded me for a long moment, his expression a blend of admiration and contemplation. "Your generosity is commendable, Kai. Yet, you must remember that you are the creator of this hydrosol. It's a significant contribution to the art of alchemy, and you shouldn't part with your achievements so lightly."

I glanced at Windy and Tianyi, who, despite their inability to speak, seemed to be hanging on to every word of our conversation. "I understand, Elder, but my aim has always been to aid those around me. This hydrosol... I was inspired to create it partly because I saw how it could benefit our second-class disciples, like Feng Wu. They push themselves to the limit with conditioning drills, and if this concoction can help them heal faster without relying solely on healing pills, then I believe it's worth sharing."

Elder Zhu's gaze softened, the moonlight highlighting the thoughtful creases on his brow. "Your heart is in the right place, Kai. To repay grace and contribute to the betterment of our community is a noble path. If you insist on this course, then I will support you. But remember, the journey of an alchemist is also one of personal growth. Continue to innovate, to explore, and to expand the boundaries of what we know."

The encouragement in his words bolstered my resolve. "Thank you, Elder Zhu. I will. And I'll make sure that whatever I create in the future, it will serve not just the Verdant Lotus Sect, but the wider cultivation world."

As the conversation drew to a close, the mixture before us continued to glow with a steady, turquoise light, a symbol of the night's success.

"Now, I'll have to get going. Let's ensure everything is stored properly before we close the pavilion for the night."

Windy slithered up to my side, their curious gaze fixed on the glowing bowl, while Tianyi fluttered around, her light dance reflecting her own form of silent celebration.

The pavilion, bathed in the soft luminescence of the healing hydrosol, stood as a testament to the night's worka blend of tradition and innovation, guided by the wisdom of the past and the boundless potential of the future.

As I packed away the equipment and stored the hydrosol in a small container, my thoughts lingered on the nameless figure that had helped me bring this recipe to life.

'Thank you, Heavenly Interface!'

A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth, not just from the success of tonight's endeavor, but from the anticipation of what was to come. The completion of the hydrosol was only the beginning. With the formula perfected and its effects verified, the second phase of my plan could now commence. But before embarking on this new journey, there was one more step to completethe formal closure of my chapter in the infirmary.

Bidding farewell to Elder Zhu, I took a deep breath and savored the fresh air.

The trek back to the infirmary was made in silence, the quiet of the night enveloping me like a cloak. Windy, having resumed their usual spot within the folds of my sleeve, seemed content with the night's outcomes, their occasional flicker of movement a comforting presence. Tianyi, ever the vigilant guardian, danced around me, her light weaving through the darkness, guiding my steps.

Despite her disbelief, Doctor Fei Ni scolded me for the recklessness of testing an unproven concoction on myself and for prematurely removing the plaster. Yet, she couldn't argue with the results. After insisting I stay the night for observation, she grudgingly admitted by morning that my recovery was indeed remarkable, and I was free to go. However, she wasn't about to let me off easy.

"Before you leave, Kai, ensure all these books your friends have piled up here are returned to the library," she instructed, her tone brooking no argument.

I glanced at the two towering stacks of books on the bedside table, a veritable mountain of knowledge that had been my companions during the long hours of convalescence. "Doctor Fei Ni, you do realize you're tasking someone who's just recovered from arm injuries with quite a tall task, don't you?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Her response was a raised eyebrow, her expression unamused. "If you're well enough to concoct alchemical miracles, I'm sure a few books won't pose much of a challenge. Unless, of course, you're not as healed as you claim, in which case..."

Her voice trailed off, but the message was clear.

With a resigned sigh and a smile, I carefully balanced the stacks of books in my arms, making sure not to strain my recently healed hand. Windy peeked out from my sleeve, their tongue flicking in what I interpreted as a silent chuckle at my predicament. Tianyi, fluttering above, seemed to share in Windy's amusement, her light dance casting playful shadows on the walls.

With each step, the stacks of books swayed precariously, a balancing act that required all my focus. Windy and Tianyi, sensing the importance of the task at hand, flanked me on either side, as if they were ready to catch them in case they fell.

As I approached the library, the sight of the third-class disciple tasked with its upkeep brought a new wave of apprehension. I've heard from Li Na and Han Wei about him cussing them out for the sheer amount of books they borrowed and returned during my stint in the infirmary. He stared at me from afar. It seemed he wasn't very happy to see me.

"Hail, esteemed keeper of tomes!" I announced with a grandiose wave. "Behold, I return with the sacred scrolls borrowed during my convalescence!"

The disciple, barely looking up from his ledger, replied dryly, "Just put them on the desk, please."

As I held back a few chosen texts, I added, "These few chronicles, imbued with the essence of ancient wisdom, shall remain by my side a while longer, to further illuminate the path of enlightenment."

The disciple shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Just bring them back when you're done."

With a bow, I responded, "As the moon wanes only to wax anew, so too shall these volumes return, enriched by the journey. Until then, I bid thee farewell, guardian of knowledge."

If there's one thing the third-class disciples don't have, it's poetic wisdom. There must be something in between those formative years between a third and second-class disciple that make them sound so wise.

Except for Lan Sheng. But he seems like the exception to the rule.

With the bulk of the books now safely returned, I made my way back to my guest quarters, the lighter load a welcome relief. Windy seemed amused by the whole ordeal, their movements more animated than usual. Tianyi, always the serene counterpart, hovered close, her glow a constant source of comfort.

"Alright, you two, back to the quarters for now. And please, try not to get into any mischief while I'm gone," I said with mock sternness. I channeled my inner Instructor Xia Ji for this moment.

Their silent acknowledgment was all the assurance I needed. As I left them in the safety of my quarters along with the books, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling within me. If my sense of time was right, Advanced Herbology and Pill Concoction classes would be today. I was eager to dive back into the rhythms of sect life.

The familiarity of the classrooms, the scent of herbs, and the subtle energies of concoction processes welcomed me back like an old friend. Instructor Xiao-Hu, strict as ever, acknowledged my presence. My enthusiasm was palpable, fueling my participation and experimentation with a vigor that felt like making up for lost time.

But it was the training grounds that called to me as the day progressed. It was the testing grounds for my new concoction! Instructor Xia Ji, with her keen eye and no-nonsense approach, was overseeing the second-class disciples' conditioning drills when I arrived.

The sight of them, focused and determined, rekindled a fire within me. Yet, as I scanned the ranks, Feng Wu and Lan Sheng were notably absent. "Must be caught up in their own tasks," I reasoned, understanding the ebb and flow of duties within the sect.

This, however, presented a golden opportunitythe key to the second phase of my plan. My time in the infirmary wasn't just for recovery; it was also a period of intense study, particularly on the topic of conditioning drills. My newfound knowledge, coupled with the completion of the healing hydrosol, set the stage for what I hoped would be a significant contribution to our training methodologies.

Approaching Instructor Xia Ji, I maintained a respectful distance, mindful of interrupting her supervision. "Instructor, if it wouldn't be too much of a bother, may I participate in the drills? I've been...eager to get back into the swing of things," I ventured, my voice laced with cautious optimism.

She cast a discerning glance my way, her seasoned eyes likely weighing my request against her knowledge of my recent injuries. After a moment's contemplation, she nodded, the gesture firm yet not without a hint of warning. "Alright, Kai. But I expect you to know your limits. We can't afford any setbacks in your recovery, especially with the Gauntlet coming up."

Gratitude washed over me, tempered by the gravity of her words. "Understood, Instructor. I'll be careful," I assured her.

As I joined the line of disciples facing the conditioning poles, a ripple of curiosity passed through the ranks. I could feel their unspoken questions, their surprise at seeing me back so soon after being thrashed by the mountainous Ping Hai, but I kept my focus on the task at hand.

I started with my fists, striking the rugged surface of the pole with controlled precision. Each impact sent a jarring vibration up my arm, a stark reminder of the fine line I was walking. Yet, I masked any discomfort with a practiced ease, conscious that any sign of pain might betray my intentions.

I couldn't use my qi. Despite my desire to, I refused. It defeated the purpose of the exercise, after all.

When I shifted to using my shins, the challenge intensified. The skin, still tender from my recent recovery, protested silently against the harsh contact. But again, I cloaked any hint of agony, the maroon fabric of my robes serving as an unwitting ally in concealing the reddening of my skin.

With every strike, I pushed the boundaries of endurance, channeling the pain into a silent testament to my resolve. The air, once a benign presence, now felt like a swarm of needles against my sensitized skin, each breath a reminder of the price of progress.

But I endured. I had to see it through.

As the session drew to a close, my body ached with a hundred silent protests, I made my way back to the guest quarters.

The door to my quarters creaked open, a welcome sight after the grueling session. The pain was a sharp, constant reminder of the day's exertions, yet it was accompanied by a sense of accomplishment. The physical toll was tangible, but so was the potential for recovery, thanks to the hydrosol waiting within.

Tianyi and Windy greeted me as I entered, their presence a comforting balm to the day's hardships. Tianyi, ever perceptive, fluttered closer, her glow intensifying as if ready to weave her healing magic around me. But today, her usual intervention wasn't part of the plan.

"Not today, Tianyi," I said gently, preempting her well-intentioned care. "I've got a different kind of healing in mind." Her glow dimmed slightly in understanding, though she remained close, a silent sentinel.

Windy seemed to sense the gravity of the moment, their usual playful antics subdued. They watched, curious yet respectful, as I set about the next phase of my recovery.

With deliberate movements, I retrieved the healing hydrosol and a roll of gauze hand wraps from my bag. The preparation was methodical, each step a testament to the countless hours spent poring over texts and refining my understanding of healing and recovery.

Carefully, I began to wrap my hands, ensuring every inch of skin was covered, a protective barrier between the rawness of my wounds and the outside world. The gauze was snug but not constricting, a cocoon that promised relief and regeneration.

Once secured, I hesitated for a moment, steeling myself for the next step. Then, with a deep breath, I dipped my wrapped hands into the jar of hydrosol, immersing them fully. The liquid was cool, a stark contrast to the lingering heat of my exertions.

I held them there, counting the seconds, allowing the hydrosol to seep through the gauze and interact with my skin. The sensation was immediate and profounda cooling relief that seemed to penetrate to the very core of my injuries. It was as if the hydrosol was awakening the latent healing energies within, knitting together flesh and spirit in a silent, harmonious dance.

Next came my shins, the memories of their relentless contact with the conditioning poles still fresh. I soaked additional gauze in the hydrosol before carefully applying it to the tender areas, the fabric clinging to my skin, imbued with the promise of relief. The relief was palpable, a gentle easing of the tension that had built up over the course of the training.

With the treatment complete, I allowed myself a moment of respite, sinking onto the bed with a sigh. The pain hadn't vanished, but its edges had softened, blurred by the hydrosol's potent effects. It was a gamble, this unconventional approach to recovery, but one I felt compelled to take.

As I lay there, the quiet of the room enveloping me, my thoughts drifted to the possibilities that lay ahead. The hydrosol had already proven its worth, but its true potential was yet to be fully realized. If today's experiment bore fruit, it could mark the beginning of a new era in cultivation and healing, not just for me but for the entire sect.

For now, though, rest was paramount. The healing process, both physical and spiritual, required time and patience. I contemplated for a moment whether I should use my Memory Palace technique to review and go over what I had learned, but I think my mind craved some actual rest, for once in my life.

Tomorrow would come soon enough, but for now, the world could wait.

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