54. Planting Trees and Fertilizing

The next morning.

Within the pill chamber, the air was scorching.

Chen Huangpi sat cross-legged on the floor, having stared at the pill furnace all night without closing his eyes for even a moment.

Though he desperately wanted to sleep, his body did not feel tired. Moreover, the period from dawn to dusk was the most critical time for refining the Heavenly Venom Pill; once night fell and yin and yang exchanged, that was when the pill would be complete.

He absolutely could not afford to make a mistake.

Otherwise, if something went wrong, other ingredients like mercury or green lead were plentiful in the temple. But where could he possibly find another Hundred-Deaths-No-Life Man? He couldn't very well make a trip to the Tomb of the Gods and stroll around the Nether Soil and Yellow Springs, could he?

Beside him, the bronze oil lamp yawned in boredom.

Whether or not the Heavenly Venom Pill could be successfully refined, it didn't much care. After all, it wasn't meant for the lamp. If Chen Huangpi really did end up poisoning the temple master with a single pill, it would be the perfect opportunity to leave the Ten-Thousand Mountains and wander the world beyond.

Of course, the bronze oil lamp knew its place. No matter how toxic the Heavenly Venom Pill was, even if it could kill an immortal, the temple master could pop it like a candy bean. More likely, it would be just as Chen Huangpi had said: using poison to cure poison and perhaps heal the master's illness.

Still, the bronze oil lamp remained unsure if the temple master was truly mad. It didn't dare think too deeply about it either. For it was now certain that merely mentioning the temple master—or even thinking ill of him—would be heard, clear as day.

To the point that the bronze oil lamp sometimes suspected that, whenever it went out to patrol the mountains, Chen Huangpi's endless talk of his master was not without reason; perhaps wherever it or Chen Huangpi went, the master’s gaze followed.

"Ugh! How terrifying!" The bronze oil lamp shivered.

The thought that, no matter what it was doing with Chen Huangpi, the temple master might be silently watching from the shadows made it feel utterly uncomfortable. Its eyes roamed the corners of the pill chamber, as if searching for something.

"Yellow Two, what are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for where the temple master is hiding," it replied.

Hearing this, Chen Huangpi said helplessly, "Master isn't in any of the places you're looking."

"You just don't understand!" the bronze oil lamp said anxiously. "You may be able to cultivate now, but your eyes are still not as sharp as mine. Even if you use my lamp oil to open your celestial eye, I can still see things you cannot."

"Such as?"

"Such as the tem... Master, you've come!"

The bronze oil lamp’s voice rose abruptly, and a sycophantic smile appeared on its lamp body.

Chen Huangpi, however, frowned slightly.

He noticed several withered leaves clinging to his master's robe, and a few twigs tangled in his white hair.

"Master, what have you been up to? You’re covered in dirt," he said, stepping forward to tidy the old Taoist’s purple robe.

The old Taoist in the purple robe sucked in his breath smugly. "Planting trees! I spent the whole night planting trees!"

"Planting trees?" Chen Huangpi’s eyes lit up. "Were they hawthorn trees?"

"No, no," the old Taoist shook his head. "The hawthorn trees haven’t arrived yet. When they do, I’ll plant them for you! The tree I planted last night was the demonic tree from the old temple!"

"The demonic tree?" Chen Huangpi’s eyes widened as memories of a towering canopy and countless blood-red, terrifying demon eyes flashed in his mind.

"Master, why would you plant that? Wasn’t it already dead?"

"It was dead, yes—its head twisted off by yours truly," the old Taoist said proudly. "But I have my ways to revive it. Once it’s alive again, I’ll put it in your Kidney Temple to suppress the black smoke. Otherwise, you’ll grow too quickly and your flesh will turn tough."

"Has it come back to life yet?"

"I’m not sure," the old Taoist scratched his head. "In any case, I moved it to a new spot, gave it fresh fertilizer, and I’ll water it tonight. It’ll definitely come back to life."

Suddenly, the old Taoist cocked his head and cast a glance at the pill furnace.

"Huangpi, you’ve learned to refine pills?"

"When did you learn that?"

"I don’t recall ever teaching you," the old Taoist said.

A look of pride, nearly identical to the old Taoist's, appeared on Chen Huangpi’s face as he replied confidently, "Master, you may not have taught me, but I’ve figured it out myself!"

"I’ve learned all your pill-refining techniques!"

"What?" The old Taoist’s expression changed dramatically, and he stammered, "Th-this... this..."

What now? Second Brother had always wanted to eat Huangpi whenever he got the chance. Now Huangpi had mastered his pill-making techniques—did that mean Huangpi would try to refine himself?

"No! Absolutely not!" the old Taoist muttered. "After all the trouble I took to raise Huangpi, I can’t let him take the initiative!"

"Master!" Chen Huangpi said helplessly. "There’s no way I’d refine myself into a pill."

"And why not?"

"Because there’s no pill recipe."

The Heavenly Venom Pill’s recipe used the Hundred-Deaths-No-Life Man as the main ingredient, supplemented by other medicinal herbs and mineral metals, all needing to be refined at precise times. Only then, at the yin-yang convergence, could the pill be formed.

Chen Huangpi reasoned that the Hundred-Deaths-No-Life Man was human, and so was he. There must be a recipe that used himself as the main ingredient. But what were the steps? What auxiliary medicines, whether mercury or green lead, what time should be chosen for the refinement—his current experience was insufficient to figure it out.

Suddenly, Chen Huangpi asked, "Master, since you often tried to refine me, do you have a recipe for making a pill out of me?"

"No, no!" the old Taoist’s eyes darted, and he hurriedly replied, "Why would I have such a recipe? Even if I did, I wouldn’t hide it; even if I hid it, I’d tell you; and even if I didn’t tell you, I’d certainly teach you. You’re my own disciple! I’m not your Second Master—I’d never lie to you. Isn’t that right?"

"Yes," Chen Huangpi nodded.

But inside, he thought, "Whenever Master lies, his eyes always dart about."

The old Taoist immediately looked up at the ceiling.

"And he likes to gaze at the sky when he lies."

The old Taoist lowered his eyes to the ground.

"Since he went mad, he’s picked up the bad habit of staring at his feet."

The old Taoist closed his eyes.

Chen Huangpi’s eyes widened in surprise. There really was a recipe for refining him!

The old Taoist, eyes shut, shook his head violently, and while doing so, fled from the pill chamber in the blink of an eye.

After he left, the bronze oil lamp spoke dryly: "Chen Huangpi, could it be that the temple master really does have a recipe for refining you?"

Chen Huangpi sneered, "Well, what do you think?"

"And you..."

The bronze oil lamp struggled inwardly and closed its eyes in pain. Chen Huangpi was its good friend, its childhood companion, having been through so much together. Yet, it had been created by the temple master. In other words, the temple master gave it life.

Granted, the master had shown favoritism: when he made Yellow One, he used an entire piece of Ten Directions Shadowless Gold, but for Yellow Two, only scraps mixed with Shoushan Copper. Still, the name Yellow Two was a gift from the master. If he’d given that name to Yellow One, then it would be Yellow One bowing and scraping before him, calling him Big Brother for a few pointers now and then.

Thinking this, the bronze oil lamp suddenly opened its eyes, as if it had made a decision.

"Enough talk. Let's rebel!"

"Rebel?" Chen Huangpi asked in shock. "Wait, once the Heavenly Venom Pill is refined, do you want to steal the hidden pill recipe from Master with me?"

"Steal the recipe?" The bronze oil lamp was stunned. "No, why do you want to steal the recipe?"

"You don’t understand," Chen Huangpi replied as if it were only natural. "When Master’s century is up, the Pure Immortal Temple will be mine. Now that he’s grown old, he’s started to keep secrets, wanting to hold something back. I can’t let him have his way.

"I’ll definitely take disciples in the future! If I don’t master the recipe for refining myself, how will I refine my disciples?"

"Don’t you agree, Yellow Two?"

"Yes," the bronze oil lamp replied calmly. "So hurry up and finish the Heavenly Venom Pill. I want the first taste!"

...

Meanwhile.

Song Qiuyue and the others were gripped by deep unease.

"How could this happen?"

"Where are the deities?"

"Where have the deities gone?"

In the room, Song Qiuyue stared at the wooden temple floating before her, her face so pale it was devoid of all color.

Zhao Hai and the other cultivators stood nearby, equally at a loss.

At dawn, Song Qiuyue had, as usual, tried to communicate with the deities.

But no answer came.

Once might be normal, but for it to happen again and again—something was wrong.

The deities’ incense power had already been dwindling. Song Qiuyue had thought perhaps they’d fallen into slumber from lack of incense.

But it turned out incense wasn’t the issue.

It was the deities themselves...

Sixty deities had vanished overnight—without even a handful of ash left behind.

"It’s daytime now. Without the deities, how do we contact Xu Prefecture City?"

Song Qiuyue bit her lip. "Without the deities, if that old Taoist attacks us, how do we defend ourselves?"

"Can anyone tell me what happened last night?"

"You—Zhao Hai, do you know?"

"And you, and you—why are none of you answering?"

"Say something!"

Song Qiuyue was both frightened and furious. When she questioned the cultivators, she was really questioning herself.

To put it bluntly, with sixty deities always at her side, for them to vanish so strangely without her noticing—she was less useful than a dog.

At least a dog can bark a warning.

Zhao Hai and the others glanced at each other, then lowered their heads in helpless silence.

"Miss, there’s no need to worry. Xu Prefecture will surely send help."

"It’s no use," Song Qiuyue forced herself to calm down.

Sixty deities gone overnight, not even a trace of ash remaining.

The only one capable of such a feat was that bizarre old Taoist.

It seemed the old Taoist was no mere calamity—he was a tribulation. A Taoist tribulation.

With such a tribulation, even if her uncle brought the Xu Prefecture Gold Seal, the smartest thing would be to flee as far as possible.

City gods, deities...

No matter how many came, it would be useless.

Perhaps there was only one way to survive.

"All of you, leave."

"Miss?"

"Leave!" Song Qiuyue’s face was cold as she watched Zhao Hai and the others file out and close the door behind them.

Only then did she sit down, composed, take out her grooming tools, and begin to paint her brows before the bronze mirror.