The morning light of Hei Qiang Town was pale and crisp, filtering through the wooden slats of Su Lantian's window. He woke before the town's bell tolled, expecting the crushing migraine that usually followed a session with the Black Cube. Instead, he found his mind sharp and his body light. The heavy "data-processing" fatigue from the night before had vanished, leaving behind only the crystalline clarity of the alchemical knowledge he had assimilated.
Despite the vigor in his veins, Su knew he was still tethered to his "mundane" roots. On Earth, he had read novels where cultivators could sit for decades in a single trance, replacing sleep with the intake of Qi. Su wasn't there yet. His nineteen-year-old brain still required the restorative cycles of REM sleep to function, but he was determined to bridge that gap.
Infrastructure first, he thought, sitting up in the center of the bed.
He spent the next two hours in deep meditation. He focused on the Five-Phase Revolving Sutra, drawing the ambient Qi of the room into his body. He watched—with his internal vision—as the colored threads of energy spun through his meridians, feeding the tiny vortex in his Dantian. The Black Cube sat at the center of that vortex, silent and hungry, but Su didn't activate it. He simply let his Qi flow.
By the time a soft knock at the door announced the arrival of his breakfast, Su felt more than just rested; he felt powerful. The "pool" of Qi in his lower abdomen had widened. If he stayed consistent, he predicted he would reach the Second Layer of Qi Cultivation within the week.
After a quick meal of millet porridge and salted eggs, Su stood before the small mirror in his room. He adjusted his new deep-blue robes, ensuring his storage ring was hidden and his backpack was securely strapped. He looked like any other focused, young cultivator heading out for a day of business.
"It's time for the hardware," he whispered.
He left the Azure Rest and began the long trek toward the North District. As he walked, the scenery shifted. The rough-and-tumble energy of the Southern Marketplace faded, replaced by wide, paved boulevards of polished white stone and guards in gleaming silver-etched plate armor. This was the Administration and Sect district—the "High-End" sector of Hei Qiang Town.
Rising above the smaller shops like a monument to wealth was a three-story building constructed of rare, aromatic sandalwood and reinforced with obsidian pillars. Even from a distance, the massive plaque above the archway was unmistakable: Qian Bao Pavilion.
Su slowed his pace as he approached. He had the knowledge of Elder Han in his head, but Han wasn't a professional alchemist; he was an archivist who had dabbled in the arts with second-hand tools. Han had left his own cauldron behind when he fled the sect, leaving Su with a "software" update but no "hardware" to run it on.
He stood before the entrance for a moment, watching the flow of people. Wealthy young masters in silk, stern sect elders with flowing beards, and high-level mercenaries moved in and out of the treasure house. Su felt a twinge of nervousness, but his analytical side took over.
I don't trust the street vendors, he reasoned. I'm a level-one novice. If I buy a cauldron from a stall, they'll sell me a copper pot painted to look like bronze. I need the Qian Bao Pavilion because their reputation is their security.
In this world, artifacts—whether they were pills, weapons, talismans, or formations—followed a strict hierarchy. They were graded as Low, Mid, High, or Top, and categorized into tiers based on the user's cultivation level (Qi Cultivation tier, Foundation tier, Core Formation tier, and so on).
Su's goal was simple: a Mid-grade, Qi Cultivation tier cauldron. He didn't need a legendary relic that could refine dragon hearts; he needed a reliable "workstation" that could handle the heat of the pills he intended to make. He knew that a decent mid-grade cauldron usually cost between 50 to 70 spirit stones. If he wanted a top-grade one, the price could skyrocket to above 200 spirit stones, but he wasn't looking to show off.
He had set aside a budget of 80 spirit stones—enough for a high-quality cauldron and at least five sets of raw ingredients for the Qi Gathering Pill. It was an expensive investment for a farm boy, but to Su, it was the "start-up cost" for his future.
As he stepped through the entrance, the air changed. The noise of the city vanished, replaced by a soft, humming silence. The interior of the Pavilion was vast, lit by floating lanterns filled with glowing spirit-pearls. Glass displays lined the walls, showcasing shimmering swords, jars of jade-like pills, and intricate formations carved onto silver plates.
The smell was intoxicating—a mix of high-grade incense and the faint, metallic scent of powerful artifacts.
Su didn't dawdle at the displays. He knew that staring too long at things he couldn't afford was a waste of processing time. He looked around the ground floor, noticing several polished wooden counters staffed by elegantly dressed attendants. Some were busy haggling with wealthy clients over the price of "Dragon-Blood Grass," while others were demonstrating the sharpness of enchanted daggers.
Su spotted an empty counter in the corner, presided over by a young woman in a pale yellow robe. She was currently organizing a tray of low-grade recovery pills, her movements precise and graceful.
He took a deep breath, straightened his posture to his full six-foot height, and approached. He didn't look like a rich young master, but he carried himself with the quiet confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was looking for.
"Welcome to the Qian Bao Pavilion," the attendant said, looking up with a polite, professional smile. Her eyes did a quick scan of his blue robes—standard, but clean—and his calm demeanor. "How may the Pavilion assist your cultivation journey today, Senior?"
Su nodded back, his voice steady. "I am looking for a cauldron. Something mid-grade, Qi Cultivation tier, with good thermal stability for multi-elemental refining."
The attendant's smile sharpened slightly. Most novices just asked for "a pot to make pills." This young man had specified thermal stability and multi-elemental refining—the language of someone who actually understood the theory.
"A wise choice," she replied. "We have several pieces that might suit you. Are you looking for a specific elemental affinity, or a neutral bronze-alloy base?"
Su leaned slightly against the counter, his mind already recalling the "patch" the Black Cube had installed. "Neutral bronze-alloy. I refine with the Five-Phase method. I need a cauldron that won't favor one element over the other and can handle rapid shifts in internal pressure."
The attendant bowed slightly. "Please wait a moment, Senior. I will bring out our 'Autumn Leaf' and 'Iron-Mountain' series for your inspection. We also have a few sets of Qi Gathering ingredients in stock if you intend to begin your practice today."
As she stepped into the back room, Su turned to look at the other treasures on display. He was truly amazed at the collection in the pavilion; from jade-encrusted daggers that hummed with latent energy to scrolls sealed in protective spirit-glass, it was a physical manifestation of the power he sought. While waiting, he realized how different this felt from shopping on Earth—here, every item had a "soul," a weight of Qi that pressed against his senses.
The attendant soon returned, followed by two burly men carrying seven distinct mid-grade Cauldrons. She placed them on a heavy ironwood table and began to explain their nuances—some were forged from heavy basalt to retain heat, while others featured intricate silver filigree to help stabilize volatile Qi. Su Lantian listened intently, his analytical mind cross-referencing her descriptions with the data Elder Han's manual had provided. Some had obvious drawbacks, like uneven heat distribution or a tendency to "leak" spiritual energy during high-pressure fusions. Ultimately, he selected a standard, neutral bronze-alloy model with a thick, triple-layered base for 65 spirit stones.
"Excellent choice, Senior. This one is known for its reliability," the attendant noted. Su then asked for five sets of Qi Gathering Pill ingredients. She returned quickly with bundles of Spirit-Mist Grass, Dried Earth-Dragon Root, and clear vials of Morning-Dew Water. The materials came to 10 spirit stones, making his total bill 75. Su paid the stones, feeling the weight of his storage ring lighten, and left for the inn.
There were occasional glances his way as he navigated the crowded marketplace carrying the heavy cauldron—a clear sign that he was an aspiring alchemist—but he reached the Azure Rest without any disturbances. He placed the heavy metal vessel in the center of his room and sat on the bed, staring at it. His first problem was practical: he was still at the early stage of Qi Cultivation and couldn't yet manifest the "True Fire" technique from the manual, which required the dense Qi of the late stage.
He ducked back out for a quick trip, returning with a bundle of high-heat charcoal and a thick, enchanted stone slab to protect the inn's wooden floor. After setting up his "workstation," he spent the next hour experimenting with the charcoal, learning how to adjust the vents of the cauldron to control the internal temperature. He watched the way the bronze reacted, getting a feel for the "thermal lag" of the metal.
Finally, he sat down and meditated. He silenced the noise of the town outside and focused on the "patch" in his mind, revising every step of the Qi Gathering Pill method. He took a deep breath, his fair skin glowing slightly in the firelight. He was ready for his first Alchemy attempt.