The earthen staff in Sun Wukong’s hands was heavy. As far as Cha Ming could tell, the other four elements were like lynchpins or guides, preventing it from veering off course. Should any of them be lacking, the staff would miss its mark. In some cases, the consequences would be devastating.
“So, you finally asked those old geezers,” Sun Wukong said, ending his routine. His soul body was covered in a layer of slick sweat that Cha Ming thought might be imaginary.
“The demon relic and Waters of Life are the key ingredients for the Nirvana Pill,” Cha Ming said. “They’re both valuable and notoriously rare. As for the Water Source Marrow, call it my backup. Should I fail to heal my core, I’ll be able to transcend via body refining and craft the Nirvana Pill in a transcendent realm.
“Still, I’m a little nervous about its creation. Are you sure you’re up for refining it? The strain of crafting a transcendent-grade pill might be too much for your soul.” The memory of Sun Wukong fighting off Huxian’s tribulation and nearly dissipating was still vivid in Cha Ming’s mind. It was only thanks to sheer luck that he’d found a way to heal it.
Sun Wukong shrugged. “It should be fine. I’m not as frail as I used to be. Besides, you can’t exactly ask the transcendents on your plane to make it for you.” He shook his head. “I’m not afraid of crafting the pill, but the tribulation that will follow concerns me. I’ve never tried making such a strong pill on a lesser plane before.”
“Will it work?” Cha Ming asked worriedly.
“It should,” Sun Wukong said, his eyes narrowing. “But the plane might have different thoughts. To make matters worse, we can’t just ask it. Life throws a lot of curve balls, Cha Ming. Keep looking for the Water Source Marrow. It’s never a bad idea to have a backup plan. Now, heads or tails?”
Cha Ming closed his eyes. “Heads.” He braced himself as his body jerked, and he found himself upside down in a familiar cauldron. “I’m starting to think you don’t care about my answer.”
Flames appeared all around him, causing the temperature in the cauldron to rise. Cha Ming used his control over fire to suppress them. Meanwhile, he summoned fifty flames, his current maximum. He used some of them to deflect incoming tongues of flame while protecting others through dodging and qi-protected fist strikes.
“Nonsense,” Sun Wukong said from the outside. “I care very much for your answer. You’re just unlucky, that’s all.”
Cha Ming gritted his teeth and continued with the drill. With his soul split into fifty, it was difficult to sense and avoid Sun Wukong’s attacks. Whenever he grew used to the temperature, the room warmed or cooled. Whenever he thought his flames were strong enough to repel the opposing army of fire, it varied the intensity of its attacks, forcing him to reduce his power to avoid wasting qi.
Their battle continued for what seemed like days before Cha Ming finally collapsed due to fatigue. This session had been particularly fruitful. By the time it ended, he’d gained control over five more wisps of flame, a personal best.
“Still not good enough,” Sun Wukong muttered. “You’ll waste more batches than you succeed with such bad flame control, and that’s only at core grade. How do you expect to have any chance in hell at making a transcendent pill?”
Cha Ming panted. “Aren’t you going to be making it?” His sweat dripped onto Jade Moon Garden soil, watering the parched ground on the plateau. A pillar of stone crashed into his head, forcing him to nurse the large bump that immediately swelled up.
“You think I can craft a pill in soul form?” Sun Wukong asked sternly. “I can assist. Assist only. You’ll be doing the heavy lifting, and the more weight you can take off my shoulders, the better.”
Cha Ming could only nod.
“What’s next?” Cha Ming asked.
“Next is gardening,” Sun Wukong said.
Their surroundings shifted, and they appeared in the forest. Dryads and elementals poked their heads out curiously from behind trees as Cha Ming and Sun Wukong appeared within the grove. It contained several trees of various colors, along with a few brightly lit herb stalks. Some moss grew on a black rock on the eastern end of the garden.
“That’s new,” Cha Ming said. “Did you plant it all yourself?”
“I did,” Sun Wukong said. “I also personally installed a ripening formation around it. These are the plants you’ll be needing to craft the Nirvana Pill. You’re to spend at least six hours growing them every day. While you do so, you’ll also be tending this larger, less important garden.” He motioned to a massive plot of land just outside the woods. “Catalyzing both slow-growing and quick-growing herbs will allow you to train your catalysis skills in a well-rounded way. You’ll also have a stockpile of herbs for when you start doing real alchemy.”
Cha Ming shook his head impatiently. “I know enough to advance by leaps and bounds,” he said. “Do I really need to practice all these skills first? Isn’t it better if I gain practical knowledge?” He felt a sharp pain as Sun Wukong’s staff rapped him on the skull.
“I’m the teacher here, and you’ll do as I say,” Sun Wukong scolded. “For your impertinence, you’ll be distilling the liquid in this barrel while you work.” He tossed a small keg to Cha Ming, who raised an eyebrow.
“Is this moonshine?” he asked.
“Training liquor,” Sun Wukong corrected.
“I don’t exactly like drinking,” Cha Ming said.
“That’s a good thing, because it’s not for you,” Sun Wukong said. “Now hurry up and distill. And don’t forget to grow the garden!”
Sighing, Cha Ming felt out with his wood qi and infused the two gardens, big and small. Using his knowledge of herbology, he guided the different plants, pruning them and urging their growth spurts as required. He soon fell
