In the quiet chamber, a wisp of green smoke curled upward, calming the mind and casting a faint, dreamy haze.


    Four cups of steaming tea sat beside each person, radiating subtle ripples of vital energy.


    “Alchemy, you say?”


    The white-haired old man paused, mulling over Han’s words.


    Han had just laid out his intentions clearly.


    This man was none other than the master of the Waning Moon Pill Pavilion—a Manifestation Realm alchemist of extraordinary skill.


    Anyone capable of crafting Manifestation or Marrow-Washing pills could rightfully claim the title of master.


    By common standards, even those who could refine Day Roaming or Bone Forging pills earned that honor. The pavilion master, though, was in a league of his own.


    “If…”


    Before the pavilion master could finish, Lu Qingmo suddenly produced an object—the command token of the Ghost God Division’s overseer.


    The old man fell silent. What’s this supposed to mean? Trying to pull rank on me?


    Hmph. If that’s your game, Lu Qingmo, you’ve misjudged me. I’m not the type to bow to authority!


    He’d been planning to help them anyway.


    But Lu Qingmo clearly had no such intent. She gripped the token for a moment before speaking.


    “Elder Ye needs me at the Ghost God Division. I’ll head there now—you all carry on.”


    The pavilion master let out an inward sigh of relief. Thought she was about to strong-arm me.


    Once Lu Qingmo left, he picked up where he’d left off.


    “So, what kind of pills are you after?”


    “Something to aid cultivation,” Han replied. “My senior sister’s at the Viscera Realm right now, so I’m looking to get some pills for the Viscera and Bone Forging Realms.”


    The pavilion master glanced at Bai Ruoyue and shook his head.


    “At her age, with that level of cultivation? She’s got real talent. Relying too much on pills, though—that’s not the smart play.”


    An alchemist cautioning against overusing pills? It sounded odd.


    But what choice did he have? These two came with Lu Qingmo, and with their kind of potential, he felt obliged to warn them.


    Even a master alchemist had to read the room—he wasn’t some pill-dispensing immortal.


    “Thanks for the heads-up, Master. We’ll keep it in check,” Han assured him.


    The pavilion master pondered for a moment before continuing.


    “Normally, whipping up a few pills for you wouldn’t be an issue.”


    “But you’ve caught me at a bad time. I’m in the middle of refining a batch of Manifestation Treasure Pills, and I hit a snag—ran out of one key herb.”


    “Right now, I’m focused on keeping that batch stable while my people scour the city for more of it. Until then, my hands are tied.”


    “If you’re willing to wait, I can start on your pills once this batch is done. How’s that sound?”


    He hesitated, feeling like he might be slighting Lu Qingmo’s crew, and added, “I’m operating with a soul fragment controlling my body right now—my main soul’s tied up with the refining. I really can’t spare the focus.”


    He figured anyone rolling with Lu Qingmo would know what a Manifestation soul fragment was.


    For folks at his level, splitting off a fragment to multitask was par for the course.


    Han stayed quiet. He hadn’t expected to walk into this. After a beat, he asked, “How long will it take to finish that batch, Master?”


    “Three to five days if we’re lucky—ten days to half a month if not,” the pavilion master replied. “The herb I’m missing is a tough find. Before starting, I scrounged up two stalks after ages of searching, but they’re gone now. I’ve got people asking around the county capital, but whether they’ll turn up anything, I can’t say.”


    “I can keep the batch stable for half a month at most. If we don’t find it by then, the whole thing’s a bust.”


    Han got it. The “three to five days or ten to half a month” was about tracking down the herb.


    If they found it, great. If not, the half-formed “pill” he’d already poured effort into would be scrap.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    But waiting that long? No way.


    Ten days or half a month would push him to the end of the month—by then, the Fortune Gourd would be refreshing.


    Just then, a commotion stirred outside.


    A young girl led a youth into the room.


    The girl glanced at Han and Bai Ruoyue, curiosity flickering in her eyes.


    “Grandpa, this is Cao Qu, the top disciple of the Lingxuan Taoist Temple.”


    Cao Qu bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Master of the Waning Moon.”


    “I heard you’re hunting for herbs. I’ve got one here—wondering if it might help?”


    “Grandpa, the Lingxuan Temple has a Snake Fate Fruit,” the girl chimed in.


    “Snake Fate Fruit? Looks like you know your stuff, kid,” the pavilion master said, then shook his head. “It’s a decent substitute for the Mysterious Snake Fruit in some recipes, but not for the pill I’m working on.”


    Swapping herbs wasn’t just about similar properties—you had to consider how they’d play with the rest of the mix. Some recipes allowed it; others had ingredients that’d clash with the substitute. No dice here.


    The girl and Cao Qu exchanged disappointed looks.


    “Rest assured, Master, the Lingxuan Temple’s pulling out all the stops to find a Mysterious Snake Fruit. No promises, but if it’s in the county capital, we’ll get it for you,” Cao Qu said earnestly.


    The pavilion master nodded, appreciating the effort.


    Han piped up from the side. “So, Master, you need a Mysterious Snake Fruit?”


    “Exactly. It’s a rare herb born in a place where hordes of snakes perish, blessed by heavenly dew, and formed after ninety-nine live snakes shed their skins—a fluke of nature.”


    “The two I had came from a water domain after a lot of begging. Day Roaming-grade stuff.”


    Noticing his granddaughter’s curiosity, the pavilion master gave a quick intro. “These two are young talents brought by Lu Qingmo, the Ghost God Division overseer. This is my granddaughter, Mu Wan.”


    Mu Wan nodded at them.


    Cao Qu’s eyes flickered. Only one Lu Qingmo ran the Ghost God Division in Tianyue County, so these two had to be from Black Cloud Town.


    Young folks tight with Lu Qingmo from Black Cloud Town? Probably the Taibai Dojo disciples his senior brother had mentioned.


    Han barely registered Cao Qu. When the pavilion master named the herb, a grin spread across his face.


    Mysterious Snake Fruit? He’d heard of it.


    He didn’t have one, but he had something else.


    “I’ve heard there’s another herb called the Mysterious Dragon Fruit?”


    “It’s an evolved form of the Mysterious Snake Fruit—rarer and more valuable,” the pavilion master replied.


    “Could it sub in for your pill, Master?”


    The old man’s patience was wearing thin, though he masked it.


    What’s with this kid and all the questions?


    Whether it could substitute or not, there’s no way you’ve got one—impossible, got it?


    I already said I’d refine your pills later, and you’re still poking around. If it weren’t for Lu Qingmo, I’d have booted you out by now.


    And what’s with that grin? I’m short on herbs here—I can’t even crack a smile, and you’re over there chuckling?


    No tact, no sense of timing!


    Clueless brat—some nerve!


    The master’s inner monologue was a whirlwind. Old in years, young at heart.


    “In the treasure pill I’m refining, the Mysterious Snake Fruit was already a fallback because I couldn’t find a Mysterious Dragon Fruit,” he said curtly.


    He’d made up his mind—if Han asked one more question, he was out.


    A botched refining session had already soured his mood.


    A batch of Manifestation Treasure Pills was a huge deal—months, maybe years of gathering materials, countless favors called in, and a ton of effort poured into it.


    Every rare ingredient was a piece of his hard-earned stash or a debt repaid. Now, with failure looming, he was gutted. Chatting with Han this long was already a stretch.


    “Brother, the master’s focused on his refining and not in the mood for small talk,” Cao Qu cut in.


    “If you’ve got business, why not take it up with Miss Mu? Let’s not disturb him—messing up his work would be a big deal.”


    His words seemed to click with Mu Wan, who shot Han a less-than-friendly look.


    She knew her grandpa best, and one glance told her he was getting fed up.


    Han flicked his eyes at Cao Qu.


    Stepping on me to kiss up, huh, kid?


    Hmph. Petty tricks—nothing worth sweating over.


    “Master, I’ve got a Mysterious Dragon Fruit.”


    “Please leave—wait, what?”


    The pavilion master shot up from his chair.


    “Master, what’s wrong?”


    Smooth as silk, he asked, “Answer me straight—do you really have a Mysterious Dragon Fruit?”


    “Yeah.”


    Among the seeds left by the Three Yin Mountain God was one for this herb, and Han had already ripened it.


    It was a Manifestation-grade herb, featured in several Manifestation pill recipes from the Three Yin legacy.


    No big deal, though—this was one of those rare plants that, once mature, didn’t need fancy alchemy skills or high cultivation to yield seeds again.


    Han pulled a brocade box from his spatial pouch and opened it. Inside sat a dark fruit etched with dragon-like patterns.


    The pavilion master’s eyes lit up. “That’s it—a Mysterious Dragon Fruit!”


    Han smiled. “When I heard you needed a Mysterious Snake Fruit, I had a hunch today’s visit was meant to be.”


    “Meant to be—damn right it is!”


    The old man was over the moon. Looking at Han now, that smile seemed warm, downright likable.


    Smile away, kid—keep it up! Love a good laugh—young folks should smile more.


    “I’ll give you this Mysterious Dragon Fruit, Master.”


    The pavilion master’s eyes practically sparkled. He grabbed Han’s arm.


    “You’re a lifesaver, my friend!”


    “Come on, let’s talk inside.”


    What a guy—sharp, talented, polite, refined, and full of heart.


    So what if he asked a lot of questions? Young people should be curious—it shows they’re eager to learn, hungry to grow.


    Curiosity’s a virtue! He loved when youngsters grilled him. If they didn’t ask, and he didn’t ask, how would the next generation get anywhere?


    “Ask away—whatever’s on your mind, fire away. Don’t hold back. I actually enjoy chatting with the young crowd.”


    “Sweet granddaughter, guard the door. No random interruptions—I’ve hit it off with this guy like we’ve known each other forever.”


    Mu Wan: “…”


    The pavilion master practically dragged Han off, with Bai Ruoyue hustling to keep up.


    Mu Wan paused, then turned to Cao Qu. “Master Cao, you should head out.”


    No random interruptions for Grandpa? Who’s the random here?


    Not her, his own flesh and blood, that’s for sure.


    The answer was obvious.


    In another room—cozier, more private—the pavilion master got serious.


    “You’re really giving me the Mysterious Dragon Fruit? This is Manifestation-grade stuff, you know.”


    “Good herbs need the right hands,” Han said with a grin. “And to me, Master, you’re the perfect fit.”


    The old man thought it over and nodded. “This batch means too much to me—I’ll shamelessly accept it.”


    “Don’t worry, my friend. Once it’s done, I’ll fire up the furnace for your pills right away.”


    “Master, the pills I want—some of the materials aren’t ready yet. I’d need to buy a few from you.”


    “The tough-to-find main herbs are covered, though.”


    The pavilion master waved a hand, oozing generosity.


    “If you’ve got the main stuff, I’ll have my granddaughter grab the rest from the storeroom. Whatever you’re short, I’ll hook you up.”


    “No charge—you and I hit it off like old pals. Money’s just paper.”


    Han blinked. Whoa, hold up—that’s too much! No way, I can’t accept that. (Opens pouch wider.)


    This guy’s the real deal—big heart, big moves. Hope he’s got eight kids to match that vibe!