Chapter Twenty-Two: The First Trial

Chapter Twenty-Two: The First Trial

Fang Junmei stepped out alone, leaving the house behind. He wandered through the many shops on Steward Mountain, his horizons expanding with every step. Yet, as he realized he could afford nothing, he considered his options carefully and ultimately resolved to accept the medicinal testing task.

When it came to willpower, he was confident he would not lose to anyone. Of course, the seventeen unfortunate souls who had gone before him likely thought the same at first—after all, they were still young.

...

“Junior Brother Fang, you truly are a dragon among men! I knew I wasn’t wrong about you!”

After accepting the task, Fang Junmei traveled with Song Shede, who conjured clouds beneath his feet and carried Fang Junmei along. Song Shede was talkative by nature—or perhaps grateful that Fang Junmei had helped him complete his assignment—his mouth full of endless compliments.

Fang Junmei listened, shaking his head and chuckling. Soon, the two arrived at Medicine King Peak, where the Sword Immortal of Medicine, Chunyu Qian, resided.

The fire spiritual energy seemed especially dense here; even before they approached, Fang Junmei could feel the hot wind sweeping toward him, the temperature steadily rising. The entire mountain glowed faintly red.

Compared to the Immovable Peak, this mountain’s scenery was far more beautiful. Vegetation flourished, wildflowers bloomed in abundance. From the air, the summit revealed a modest courtyard, but behind it stretched a vast garden, a riot of colors that seemed to shine with their own light—spectacular and unmistakable.

“That’s my master’s medicinal garden. Unauthorized persons are strictly forbidden from entering.”

Seeing Fang Junmei’s gaze, Song Shede explained. Fang Junmei nodded; he still understood little about many matters in this world of cultivation. Since Song Shede was so talkative, Fang Junmei took the opportunity to ask questions, expanding his knowledge.

After a short while, the cloud descended before the courtyard gate. The courtyard itself was elegant, the plaque above the door bore three bold characters: Wind Arrival Pavilion, written in a graceful, flowing script.

Inside, Song Shede strode quickly to the main hall entrance and knocked upon the great door.

As the doors opened, a wave of scorching heat rushed out. Fang Junmei peered inside, his eyes widening in surprise.

At the center of the hall lay a pit, from which red earth-fire surged upward, like the mouth of a volcano.

A white-haired elder sat cross-legged beside the fiery pit, seemingly unconcerned by the heat. He wore a thick dark blue cotton coat, looking bored and idle, his appearance rough and lacking any hint of the demeanor expected of a senior master.

When Fang Junmei first arrived at Peach Blossom Source, he had not seen this elder in the ancestral hall.

“Master, I’ve brought you the new medicinal tester.”

Song Shede entered with a smile and bowed.

“Enough with your frivolity! The last few you brought were worse than the last—do you think my pills are mere rubbish?”

The white-haired elder snorted, glaring at Song Shede. Clearly, this was Chunyu Qian, one of the ten great Sword Immortals of the Peach Source Sword Sect.

Song Shede showed no fear, stepping forward to explain Fang Junmei’s situation. Chunyu Qian, before hearing it all, began to scrutinize Fang Junmei closely, his gaze sharp as blades.

“Greetings, Elder.”

Fang Junmei stepped forward and bowed.

After a long, careful assessment, Chunyu Qian spoke coldly, “Boy, talent in cultivation doesn’t mean your will is strong. If you regret this now, it’s still not too late. Though your master and I are on good terms, to test my pills, I will stop at nothing.”

Fang Junmei chuckled, self-deprecating, “I am greedy by nature. For your reward, I’ve already decided to risk everything.”

Chunyu Qian’s expression remained unchanged. He closed his eyes slowly; just as Fang Junmei wondered at this, Chunyu Qian’s eyes snapped open, and two dazzling sword-like beams shot forth, piercing straight into Fang Junmei’s gaze, as if they were tangible blades.

In that moment, Chunyu Qian and Song Shede disappeared; Fang Junmei’s world consisted only of those two icy sword gleams, drilling toward him—not swiftly, but as if they traversed the depths of time.

“A master!”

Fang Junmei’s heart trembled. The two beams gave him the sense that escape was impossible; had Chunyu Qian wished to kill him, Fang Junmei suspected he would already be dead.

But clearly, this was only a minor test.

He steadied his mind, focusing intently on those two beams.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

A faint wind rushed past; the sword gleams dissolved halfway, vanishing.

Fang Junmei blinked, returning to the real world. Chunyu Qian and Song Shede both watched him.

“Passably adequate,” Chunyu Qian said with the authority of a veteran, then turned to Song Shede, “Shede, you may go. Be ready to find the next candidate at any time.”

At these words, Fang Junmei’s face darkened, indignant at being underestimated.

Song Shede took his leave, casting Fang Junmei a look of encouragement before closing the door behind him. Chunyu Qian struck several times toward the door, and silence fell, as if the hall were soundproof.

“You know the task. Before testing the ultimate pill, you must first try seven others. For each trial you pass, I’ll grant you spirit stones as agreed—little at first, but ever increasing. If you reach the sixth trial, you can test the final pill. Should you succeed, you might gain an unexpected reward.”

Chunyu Qian smiled mysteriously.

Fang Junmei grew more curious, but restrained himself from asking further.

“I warn you, these six pills are each stronger than the last. If you pass one, you must test the next—no backing out midway. Only upon final success or failure will I let you go.”

Chunyu Qian’s gaze became stern, his white beard and hair trembling, and the red firelight beside him made him appear almost monstrous.

Fang Junmei nodded.

Chunyu Qian’s expression relaxed slightly; he straightened his hunched frame and continued, “These six pills are all tests of your will. Once ingested, don’t overthink—calm your mind.”

Fang Junmei nodded again.

“If there are no questions, let’s begin.”

Chunyu Qian took out a milky white jade bottle from his storage pouch. Even unopened, red gleams flickered within, as if a ball of fire was trapped inside.

“Sit cross-legged and open your mouth.”

Fang Junmei sat and opened wide.

Chunyu Qian uncorked the bottle, beckoned with his finger, and a red gleam flew forth, entering Fang Junmei’s mouth before he could even see it clearly.

Immortal pills were extraordinary.

The moment it entered his mouth, Fang Junmei felt as if he had swallowed a ball of fire, scorching his throat painfully. His Adam’s apple bobbed, nearly spitting it out, but it was already down.

Boom!

A muffled sound erupted from his abdomen, as if the pill had exploded.

A wave of heat rose from within, like a fire burning in his belly, threatening to reduce his intestines to ash.

“Ah—!”

Fang Junmei cried out unconsciously, sweat beading on his forehead.

“What are you yelling for? This is only the first trial!”

Chunyu Qian rebuked coldly, then closed his eyes to cultivate, ignoring Fang Junmei.

Remembering his purpose, Fang Junmei forced himself to resist the urge to flee in search of a mountain spring or well, to quench the fire in his gut. He remained seated, guarding his mind.

Time passed slowly.

Gradually, red gleams emerged from Fang Junmei’s body; seated within, he resembled a human lantern.

Clenched teeth, contorted face, sweat pouring in waves.

Though Fang Junmei had spent years in the martial world, his superior swordsmanship spared him from many injuries. His greatest ordeal had been the ascent to Mount Luofu, nearly costing him his life. Yet compared to this long, torturous ordeal—the pill’s fiery trial—that pain was trivial.

He could not tell if the pill’s fierce medicinal power had truly burned his body; he had no time to care. He knew that if his will collapsed, he would fail the trial entirely.

Calm the mind.

Focus.

He forced himself to forget the burning pain, letting his spirit enter a state of clarity.

...

The pill’s effects lasted a full hour before finally subsiding.

Feeling the heat fade, Fang Junmei lay back, gasping weakly, as if all his strength had been burned away. His clothes were soaked through.

His spiritual sense examined his dantian, but found no damage or signs of scorching within. The pill was indeed miraculous—perhaps the torment of burning was merely an illusion?

Throughout the hour, Chunyu Qian had not opened his eyes. At last, he looked up, his gaze flashing, expressionless. He glanced at Fang Junmei, pulled out ten low-grade sword spirit stones, and tossed them carelessly, as if dismissing a beggar.

Clink, clink—

The spirit stones hit the floor.

“Take them. You have three days to rest. Come find me after three days.”

Chunyu Qian said coldly, then struck the great door with several finger rays, opening it wide.

Fang Junmei’s tired eyes fell upon the ten stones. Rather than disdain, he smiled in delight.

The first trial’s reward—ten low-grade sword spirit stones—was pitifully small, less than some other tasks. But as Chunyu Qian had said, the rewards increased exponentially with each trial.

If the early trials paid more, everyone would scramble to earn the stones from the first few.

“Thank you, Elder.”

Fang Junmei stood, picked up the stones, bowed, and walked out. The door slammed shut behind him.

On the vast Medicine King Peak, disciples were rare. Scanning the area, he saw only an old man at the garden gate, his face cold, his aura comparable to Fan Lanzhou’s, guarding the entrance. No sign of Song Shede.

After leaving, the old man merely glanced at Fang Junmei from afar, saying nothing.

Fang Junmei went to the well and began to wash himself.