Cultivating Chai

59:

Lianhua studied the refined mixture that was now encased in a layer of frost, disbelief etched across her features.

“How did you…,” She trailed off, taking a moment to school her expression. Shaking her head, Lianhua once again inspected the mixture, this time, allowing her palm to glide across its frozen surface.

It was as smooth as a polished mirror, its surface unmarred by blemishes or lumps.

“Did you practice on your own?” Lianhua asked, an upward lilt to her tone revealing her brimming curiosity.

“No,” Xiao Feng replied.

Lianhua cocked her head, as she studied Xiao Feng in a new light.

“Then how?” She asked. “I had faith that you would not destabilize the mixture, but this is beyond my expectations. If you had left a lump or two, it could’ve been attributed to luck. But this, it seems like something more,” Lianhua explained.

“I let my Wind Qi flow across the insides of the pill furnace. It’s very hard to get any meaningful feedback through solid metal, but when my Wind Qi made contact with the mixture, there were patches that felt off to me. So I just focused my efforts on those patches and ignored the rest of the mixture,” Xiao Feng explained, keeping his explanation limited to the truth, even if it was not the entire truth.

“Just how high is your Qi sensitivity?” Lianhua asked, sounding a little dazed.

“Uhh, a little higher than average?” Xiao Feng sheepishly offered.

Lianhua snorted, before she gave him a pointed look.

“Look, it’s not like we had Qi sensitivity contests in the martial division,” Xiao Feng protested. “If mine happens to be higher than the norm, then it is probably because the kind of dangers I’ve been trained to sense keeps me on my toes.”

Lianhua shook her head, before replying, “If that really were the case, then the alchemy division would not exist. If anything, the nature of the threats you have honed your senses towards detecting, greatly exceed the amount of Qi that can be contained in a pill furnace. Correct me if I’m wrong, but detecting a threat is only one half of the task. Whether you survive or not depends upon your reaction.”

“You’re right,” Xiao Feng conceded. “If every martial cultivator also happened to be a talented alchemist, your training would look a lot different. Though, I don’t really think I can offer a better reason right now.”

Xiao Feng knew that the knowledge he possessed, the existence of the Essence Cultivation Art, was a danger to both himself and Lianhua. Even so, he really did not want to lie to her. Lianhua had shown him kindness when none was due and she had started to matter to him in a way his predecessor had never gotten to understand.

So, he had compromised. He couldn’t offer a better reason in the present, not just yet. The risk outweighed the reward. But that would change.

He would make sure of it.

“That is fair, I suppose,” Lianhua replied. “Very well, let class conclude for today.”

“Why?” Xiao Feng protested. “We were just getting to the fun part.”

“Your Qi reserves might not have been affected,” Lianhua said, before she reached out with her index finger and gently tapped twice on his forehead. “But your concentration is far from a finite resource. It is best to let it rest and absorb what we have accomplished today.”

Xiao Feng found himself considering Lianhua’s words and it did not take him long to conclude that she was right. Physically his Qi reserves were near untouched, but that did not stop the mental weariness from setting in.

He could push through it, blow back the haziness fogging his mind temporarily, but what good would that do him when his aim was to learn.

“Fine,” Xiao Feng replied with a falling lilt, his tone mollified.

“Oh, don’t look so glum,” Lianhua chided. “Just because you’re done with alchemy for the day doesn’t mean that you’re done learning.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on. You want to tame a spiritual beast egg, right?”

Xiao Feng nodded.

“Then there’s no place better to learn more about them than the menagerie,” Lianhua explained, a twinkle in her gaze.

For all intents and purposes, Xiao Feng knew that he had stepped into a different world, one separated by unknown leagues of time and space from his old one. Yet that realization hadn’t truly sunk in until he took his first steps into the menagerie.

Where he had expected stone tiling or wooden flooring, Xiao Feng’s sandals landed on soft grass that stretched on to cover the entire cavern, if it could even be called as such. Gentle light drizzled down on them from the ceiling, its source coming in the form of countless crystals that had been embedded into the stone, likely by an Earth Cultivator.

But it was not the scenery that surprised Xiao Feng, even though it was a fresh breath of air to see trees within the confines of the cave structure that the alchemists resided in.

No, that honor was reserved for the dozen spiritual beasts that his senses had picked up on, his right hand instinctively finding itself wrapped around his Foundation Establishment Artefact, Windcarver.

Xiao Feng’s gaze flickered from one spiritual beast to the next as he sized them up.

There were five four-legged bovine beasts that belonged to the same species, the massive eight-foot-tall creatures laden with fatty tissue that caused their bellies to droop. Xiao Feng watched as one of the bovine beasts craned its short neck to take a bite out of a tree branch, a muted snap sounding out as it began chewing on both leaves and wood.

If it were not for the two curved horns jutting out from their head, Xiao Feng would’ve never associated the beast’s jade green eyes, vibrant yellow fur speckled with spots of white and most of all, it’s titanic build with the heavenly beast that had provided him with the creamy goodness that was bi-horn milk.

His attention shifted to a gray worm that was coiled around a tree like a giant snake, it’s many legs the reason for Xiao Feng’s distinction. Its mandibles were bobbing up and down in a human-like chewing motion. The fact that the worm was allowed in the open before a bunch of alchemists meant that it couldn’t be too dangerous, but that didn’t stop Xiao Feng from shuddering before he turned his attention away.

Towards the leporine beasts that zipped from one tree to the next, their silver fur shimmering under the light of the menagerie. Xiao Feng watched as one of the leporine beast’s long ears whipped backwards as it bounced off the trunk of a tree and zipped towards the next one effortlessly, the ruby red gemstone in its forehead glinting as it did so.

Xiao Feng counted three of the speedy menaces, before his gaze turned skywards, towards the two raven-feathered birds that flew in a tight circle, as if they were biding their time for the right moment to dive-bomb him with their sharp talons.

But the one beast that gave him the most pause was the one that lay prone before the entrance to a lodge, the sleek black furred feline lazily meeting his own gaze with a single open eye, as if his presence was not worth anything more.

And within that gaze was a warning— that was what his instincts as a martial cultivator told him.

The only door to the lodge swung inwards.

“Easy there! The beasts are bonded to me.”