Having made his decision, Han Li set down the first jade slip and picked up the other.
The recipe for the Youth-Preserving Pill was far simpler than that of the Foundation Establishment Pill. It required no true fire to refine, and none of its ingredients were exotic or unfamiliar—every last one was a common variety.
The only thing that gave him pause was that the herbs were all required to be at least a thousand years old before they could serve as ingredients for the Youth-Preserving Pill. No wonder the pill was virtually unknown in the cultivation world. After all, which cultivator would squander a thousand-year-old spiritual herb on a pill that did nothing to advance one's cultivation? That was precisely why the Youth-Preserving Pill had faded into obscurity.
But for Han Li, this presented no obstacle at all—it merely meant a somewhat longer period of forced growth. He resolved that once he had settled the Foundation Establishment Pill matter, he would attempt to refine a batch of these pills and see whether they were truly as miraculous as the recipe claimed—capable of preserving one's appearance at the age of consumption for all eternity.
When the wizened little old man came to the Hundred Herb Garden six or seven days later to collect his medicinal herbs, Han Li did not bother with elaborate preambles. He stood in the garden and asked directly about the three rare herbs.
"Jade Marrow Fungus, Purple Monkey Flower, Heaven Spirit Fruit?" The little old man stroked his thin goatee, his small eyes narrowing to slits.
"Heh heh! So the junior nephew has obtained the Foundation Establishment Pill recipe and is now inquiring about these three primary ingredients. But tell me, junior nephew—do you actually intend to refine the pill yourself?" Martial Uncle Ma curled his lip and fixed Han Li with a look that said, *You clearly have no idea what you're dealing with.*
"Of course not. Setting aside the fact that I know nothing about these three herbs, even if I had them, where would I find auxiliary herbs several hundred years old? The oldest plant in your garden is a single Dragon Transformation Grass barely past a century. Under these circumstances, how could I possibly harbor delusions about refining the pill?" Han Li had no intention of revealing the truth and deflected with practiced ease.
"If you don't intend to refine pills, then why are you asking about them? This old man is busy—I have no time for idle chatter!" The little old man's face turned frosty, his manner suddenly inhospitable.
Han Li had long grown accustomed to Martial Uncle Ma's eccentric temperament and showed no sign of alarm. Instead, he smiled and said:
"I was simply struck by the unusual names of these three herbs, and I've never heard anyone describe their appearance or properties. Curiosity prompted the question. But what truly puzzles me is that your garden doesn't contain a single specimen of any of them. For such rare and precious varieties, wouldn't your usual practice be to somehow obtain seeds and cultivate them here? Could it be that these herbs are so difficult to grow that even you cannot keep them alive?"
"How absurd! Are you questioning my expertise?" The little old man bristled at the implication. "The reason these herbs aren't in the garden has nothing to do with my skills. They are spiritual manifestations of heaven and earth—naturally occurring species that spring from the world's own spiritual energy. Where would one even find their seeds? And even if one obtained a seedling, their native growing conditions are so extraordinary that they simply cannot survive in an ordinary environment. All the effort in the world would be wasted. Otherwise, do you think I would have let them slip by?"
"No seeds? How is that possible?" Han Li blurted before he could stop himself.
"Hmph. How is it not? Consider this: if such rare herbs—nearly extinct in the outside world yet invaluable to cultivators—could be artificially cultivated, do you think the major sects wouldn't have entire fields of them by now? Would the supply of Foundation Establishment Pills be dwindling year by year?" The little old man shot Han Li a withering glare, clearly annoyed.
His words struck Han Li like a bucket of cold water. The green liquid's growth-accelerating properties were formidable, but without even the most basic seeds, how could he force anything to grow? He could not create something from nothing.
"If there's nothing else, I'll be going. I'll return in two months for the next batch of herbs." Martial Uncle Ma had not noticed the change in Han Li's expression. He turned to leave.
"But the primary ingredients for the Foundation Establishment Pill appear in batches every ten years. Where do they come from? If their growing conditions are truly as special as you say, there must be a fixed location where they grow, correct?" Han Li's mind raced. He had hit upon another avenue—no seeds meant no seeds, but if he could find immature seedlings, he could still force them to grow. He hurried after the old man.
"It seems your curiosity knows no bounds. But I advise you to abandon this notion. Going to that accursed place to search for these three herbs is little different from suicide." The little old man did not even bother to turn around. He tossed this cold remark over his shoulder and flew away without another word.
Han Li stood rooted to the spot, left behind, and did not move for a long while.
"I will obtain these three herbs. Even if he won't tell me, will I not ask someone else?" Han Li let out a long, slow breath and murmured to himself.
In the two years Han Li had spent at Yellow Maple Valley, the only people he knew with any degree of familiarity, aside from Martial Uncle Ma, were Steward Yu and the scripture teaching disciple Wu Feng.
Steward Yu was a man of deep cunning and unapologetic self-interest. Han Li did not enjoy dealing with him. So the first person he sought out was Wu Feng. If he could not learn anything from Wu Feng, then a trip to the money-grubbing old man at Yuelu Hall would be in order—Elder Xu certainly knew the answer, though parting with his money would be unavoidable.
When Han Li arrived at the Scripture Teaching Hall—the building reserved for instructing low-grade disciples—Wu Feng was there, explaining low-level techniques to a handful of young boys. Upon spotting Han Li, he offered only a brief nod before continuing his instruction.
Han Li did not mind. He understood that Wu Feng was simply thorough in his duties—it was not a slight directed at him personally.
This Wu Feng commanded Han Li's genuine respect. Though Wu Feng himself remained at the peak of the Qi Refining stage even after consuming a Foundation Establishment Pill—never having crossed into Foundation Establishment—his comprehension of low-level magical techniques was nothing short of extraordinary. He could extrapolate principles from limited examples with an ease that never failed to impress Han Li, and Han Li had benefited greatly from his instruction.
If that were all, Han Li would have held him in moderate regard but nothing more. What truly astonished him was that since assuming the role of scripture teaching disciple, Wu Feng had treated every senior and junior brother who came seeking guidance with complete impartiality, sharing his insights and experience without a shred of reservation. This revelation had left Han Li deeply shaken.
To be honest, Han Li had initially refused to believe it. He had assumed he had encountered yet another hypocrite who excelled at performing the part of the virtuous mentor. So for the longest time, he had kept Wu Feng at arm's length, maintaining a polite distance.
But after more than a year of genuine interaction, Han Li had come to confirm through the man's everyday conduct and manner that Wu Feng's sincerity was real. The man truly devoted himself to helping every fellow disciple without exception. It had left Han Li at a loss for words for days.
Though Han Li could not bring himself to fully endorse Wu Feng's approach, he acknowledged that the man's character was beyond reproach. He had made an effort to cultivate a closer relationship, and while they had not yet reached the level of intimate friendship, their bond was considerably stronger than that between ordinary disciples.
So Han Li took a seat and waited patiently.
Wu Feng's instruction was meticulous. He spent over two full hours explaining a single mid-tier low-level technique—the Fire Serpent Art—and demonstrated it several times, allowing his students to absorb the nuances thoroughly.
In truth, apart from the techniques he had acquired at the very beginning, Han Li had learned remarkably few new spells in the past two years. He had spent that time simply consolidating and mastering what he already knew.
This reality drove home the depth of his disappointment in his own aptitude, and only sharpened his desperate longing for the Foundation Establishment Pill.
At last, the young disciples finished their inquiries and departed. Only then did Wu Feng turn to Han Li with a smile.
"Junior Brother Han! It's been a while. Have you finally decided to begin studying mid-level techniques?"
Han Li smiled wryly and replied without enthusiasm:
"Senior Brother, you know my aptitude as well as I do. It took me two full years just to master the basic low-level techniques. Learning the more difficult mid-level ones would take another seven or eight years at least. I think I'd better pass."
Wu Feng's brow creased slightly, and a note of reproach entered his voice:
"How can you speak so despairingly, Junior Brother? A weaker aptitude can be compensated for by diligence. Through devoted practice, one can still achieve remarkable things."