Chapter 321: After the Fire (6)

Qing, of course, knew the famous elixirs of the martial world.

At that, the Medical Elder let out a raspy chuckle.

“Originally, the Way of Quanzhen teaches us to shun deluded dreams. What is alchemy, if not a fool’s errand for immortality? Even after receiving the teachings of Master Zhongyang, those Mount Hua bastards obsessed over elixirs. That’s what I call rotten.”

Still, Mount Hua had long since ceased to be a mere Daoist temple and had become more like a massive martial sect. So for a large sect to dabble in elixir research wasn’t exactly strange.

“Besides, they’ve got good herbs, don’t they?”

Mount Hua’s mountains were infamous throughout the Central Plains for their treacherous terrain.

And when a mountain is treacherous, it means few have ever reached its depths—ideal breeding grounds for rare and spiritual herbs.

By comparison, Zhongnan Mountain, known for its picturesque beauty, was the pride of Shaanxi Province and a popular scenic destination.

That meant there wasn’t a single corner left untouched by human feet—not even a tiny wild ginseng root was likely to be found on that barren “wasteland” of a mountain.

“So I bought a few pills and kept them stored away.”

“You’re really giving me something this rare?”

“Oh, it’s not that rare.”

“...Huh?”

“Go on. Open it.”

Qing opened the wooden case—and found it full of crumbled fragments.

“I got curious about how it was made and poked around a bit. Roughly half remains.”

“Ah. I see...”

Qing acquired Half a Jasodan Pill!

It had been torn apart and dissected for research, leaving only fragments of what had once been a perfectly round, beautifully formed elixir. The color... the shape... well...

Still—gratitude was gratitude.

It was a world-renowned elixir, and even half of one was a blessing.

But—wasn’t it kind of messed up to just cut open someone else’s sect’s pill and study it like this?

Naturally, Qing couldn’t let that curiosity go unspoken.

“Come on now, are Mount Hua and we not of the same root? If something good exists, why not share it? Besides, didn’t Mount Hua originate from Zhongnan? You could even say their elixirs came from us, couldn’t you?”

If a Mount Hua disciple had heard that, they’d probably explode.

“At that point, it’s something you can accept without guilt, and we can give without burden. The Sect Leader asked me to pass it on to you.”

After all, with elixirs, lives are at stake.

Even if you give someone something perfectly fine, and later you end up short, you could still come to resent it. So instead—just offer what’s left.

In fact, Qing sharing her insight from the Cliff of the Absolute Sword had been expected. It was, after all, a legacy left behind within Zhongnan’s grounds—naturally, she owed them the reflection.

Thus, a fair exchange was made. Neither Qing owed Zhongnan, nor Zhongnan her.

If they’d given her a full, pristine elixir, it might have felt burdensome. But this half-used one? That was just right.

Of course, Qing treated elixirs with the vague notion of "they're probably good things."

Half a pill or a whole one—she was thankful either way, but not to the point of guilt or emotional debt.

One could call that an extreme overestimation of Qing’s inner sense of propriety.

****

Inside Qing’s dantian, for the first time in a while, it was absolute chaos—a horde of internal energies gathering en masse, a noisy, ungovernable ruckus.

No wonder. The outside—everything beyond the dantian—was completely wrecked, so nothing could escape even if they wanted to.

Demonic energy, cornered with nowhere to flee, huddled together and shivered in place.

Girl’s Delight Energy snuck glances at Jade Maiden Energy, but when the latter shook her head, it meant leave it alone—so Girl’s Delight clicked her tongue and glared, unable to do anything else.

You’re lucky I’m merciful today, it seemed to mutter.

The demonic energy let out a sigh of relief.

But even if they wanted to leave, there was nowhere else to go—not with Daoist and Buddhist energies watching them like hawks. So they just slinked into a corner, exchanging sad, silent glances that seemed to say: Ah, such sorrow to be mere qi-born constructs...

Just then, a laugh—low and rumbling.

Krrrk...!

It was Ice Demon Force. Scraping at the nerves like a fungal patch on the inner wall of the dantian.

Already miserable, the other demonic energies pounced, slapping and clawing and kicking at Ice Demon Force in a violent tantrum.

Once again, Ice Demon Force was beaten to a pulp.

Krrk—k-khh... hah... kk... hah...

Still laughing.

But then.

Despite the shattered Eight Extraordinary Meridians making it impossible for anything to enter—the gates of the dantian suddenly swung open.

A new resident?

All the Daoist and Buddhist qi swiveled their heads in unison. Even the demonic energies paused mid-beating, their eyes lighting up with hope. Is it... a big boss joining our side?

Ice Demon Force, still grinning, paid them no mind.

But the newcomer was unfamiliar.

Clad in thick, shaggy white fur, with no expression at all, it strode in silently, glanced over the gathered qi energies, and walked to the side as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

Then—from who-knows-where—it pulled out a massive iceberg and slammed it down into the center of the dantian floor.

At that, the three sisters of Ice Technique—Jade Maiden Energy, Ice Demon Force, and the pathetic little Cold Qi—rushed toward it with radiant joy.

Wow! Ice Crystal! It's so! COLD!

There was no other way to describe it.

From the base of the iceberg, frosty white mist began to spread across the floor of the dantian.

But when Jade Maiden Energy stomped her foot lightly, a dividing line was drawn precisely halfway across—the cold couldn’t pass any further.

On the opposite side, Sunlight Energy scowled and erupted into divine fire, igniting the other half in seething flame.

Thus, one half froze, the other half burned.

And right in the middle sat Ice Demon Force, half its body in fire, half in ice—still smiling, so there was no way to know how it truly felt.

Anyway—this was how a new qi, Ice White True Energy, settled in.

Ximen Qing, Ice White Divine Art, the highest cost-performance stat-optimized build.

“Fuuuuuuh...”

Qing slumped back, brain bubbling like boiling stew, drool leaking, eyes rolling, and finally exhaled a long breath.

She would never, ever get used to the Mind-Branding Method from the status screen.

The sensation of her brain being manhandled, played with—words couldn’t do it justice. It left a grimy, lingering discomfort that hung around for ages afterward.

Still frowning from that unpleasant aftertaste, she looked up—

Click. The door creaked open, and Seol Iri stepped inside.

“Ah. Great timing. Hey, Goonyeong—come here. I’ve got a story that’ll blow your fuckin’ mind.”

“Take your decoction first. And I don’t like being called Goonyeong.”

Seol Iri came in, both hands supporting a large tray with a bowl of herbal decoction so massive it looked like it could drown a small child.

But her hands were trembling.

She moved so slowly it felt like time had slowed tenfold. The medicine never seemed to arrive.

Qing just stared, blank-faced. What the hell is she doing now?

Only after a painfully long wait did the bowl finally enter Qing’s reach.

Ah. It’s filled to the brim.

A giant bowl, nearly overflowing with bitter black liquid.

Clearly, Seol Iri was doing her absolute best not to spill a single drop—hence the snail-like pace.

But—seriously—from where did she start moving like that?

Unlike the pitiful Seol Iri, Qing had the finest balance in the world.

She grabbed the bowl, brought it to her lips, and chugged it down in one smooth motion. Her throat bobbed like a machine pumping qi into her veins.

“God—this shit tastes like ass.”

Still, she’d left a neat little stack of expensive sugar cubes on the tray, clearly knowing it’d be awful.

Qing popped one into her mouth, then picked up another and held it out. Seol Iri opened her mouth obediently and accepted it.

“Alright, Goonyeong. Sit down. I’m gonna tell you some next-level shit.”

“Stop calling me—”

“You hate it, right? Fine. Goomungie. Sit down. I’m gonna tell you some next-level shit.”

“I hate that too.”

“So picky. Iri, then. Here. Do I have to say it ten times? Sit down, stand up, I don’t care. Just listen. Once, far north of the North Sea, I saw a wall of ice so pure it stretched straight into the abyss. Nearby was a cave full of dumb, dirty, ugly barbarian tribes who gnawed raw meat. I asked, and they said it was ice over ten thousand years old—and revered it as divine.”

“But their barbarian words don’t matter. I shall describe it in the superior language of the world: Ice White. Ice White.”

Whoever created Ice White Divine Art was clearly a massive racist.

Which was rich, coming from someone who was a barbarian from the North Sea.

And let’s not forget—Classical Chinese wasn’t even their native tongue.

“Miss Ximen? Are you—”

“Shut it. I’ll recite the incantation. So open your ear-holes and listen. Hmm? Goonyeong’s ear-hole? Goomungie’s ear-hole?”

“You’re being... mean.”

“Anyway, upon witnessing Ice White, I was so moved that I realized: ice and cold are the strongest forces in all three thousand worlds—freezing not just space (woo), but time (joo), even the entire universe. And so—”

As Qing began reciting the incantation in earnest, Seol Iri immediately closed her eyes and focused, listening intently.

Qing repeated the chant a second time, a third, a fourth...

On the fifth repetition, her lips just starting to move—suddenly, a fierce northern wind blew through the room, and the late-summer heat plummeted into the dead of winter.

Mm. Nice and cool.

The so-called “side effect” of Ice White Divine Art was that you become insensitive to cold and overly sensitive to heat.

Unlike Heat-and-Cold Immunity, which prevents injury from extreme temperatures, Ice White Divine Art didn’t block discomfort.

If you were cold, you stayed cold. If you were hot, you stayed hot.

You just got better at tolerating it without dying.

Which meant that, really, this wasn’t a side effect—it was a functional tradeoff.

Especially for the frigid North Sea, where overheating was never an issue.

But Qing was hot.

She thought she could cool off with Pathetic Heart Technique, but she’d already overloaded her qi and passed out from pain, hadn’t she?

Typical of someone with shallow thought but excessive initiative—always rushing, even when there’s no need, always losing out.

Qing had no real thoughts—but when she wanted to do something, she had to do it right now, even if it meant repeating the same action over and over.

Still, it was cooler now.

Sitting in a room whipped by icy winds, Qing felt a strange homesick warmth bubble up inside her.

Like being back atop the Sect of Divine Maidens—her own freezing, cramped, uncomfortable room, perpetually swept by snowstorms.

...Man. I kinda wanna go home.

Who knew how long passed.

Seol Iri suddenly opened her eyes wide.

Her gaze softened, curving ever so gently, and she looked at Qing with a quietly awed expression.

Qing popped another sugar cube in her mouth, then held one out.

Seol Iri caught it with her tongue—and instantly her eyes went wide from the bitter medicine hidden within.

Usually so expressionless, her giant, round surprise-eyes were... kind of cute.

“Mmgh!”

“Swallow it. Don’t you dare spit it out. That’s an elixir, you know? It’s Jasodan. That shit’s valuable, so down the hatch and lock it up tight.”

Qing, who’d received the pill for free, still made a show of generosity.

She’d taken the half-crumbled remains of the Jasodan from the Medical Elder and rolled it back together into a smaller version.

Qing, with her absurdly powerful qi, had never once felt lacking in cultivation.

In fact, she had too much. That old bastard Mucheon Daeje had smacked her down last time for it.

She even had a Great Rejuvenation Pill in her stash.

But giving that to this useless, worthless thing?

No way.

A half-pill of Jasodan was just right. Like the Elder said—no burden on either side.

Now that my Goonyeong’s changed... maybe I can start expecting some actual results...

...Wait, what the hell?

Come to think of it, wasn’t the whole reason she brought Seol Iri along to act as a literal human cooling pillow?

And up until now, this useless thing hadn’t even managed that simple job!

Forget a pillow—Qing had fed her, clothed her, bathed her, tucked her in...

Nothing but one-sided labor!

But now... maybe it was time for a return on investment.

You know that “Time to collect” thing? Where did I hear that? Whatever.

She'd learned the divine art. Eaten half an elixir.

Now maybe—just maybe—she could manage at least a quarter of a human's worth of usefulness?

Qing wasn’t even hoping for a full person’s worth.

Not even close.