Where Immortals Once Walked

The turtle pearl had come from the giant turtle beneath Immortal Spirit Lake, the distilled essence of centuries of cultivation. Everything the giant turtle had refined, apart from its monster core, had been condensed into spirit pearls. Since this was for his own use, He Lingchuan did not hold back. He dropped in a whole pearl at once.

The toad venom had an origin no less unusual. When the walnut boat crossed the Panlong Desert, State Preceptor Sun Fuping had harvested it from two golden toads that had leaped aboard. They were, at heart, merely toads, but warped into mutants by the Generous Pot’s influence. Like any toad, they secreted a thick fluid from behind the ears and skin folds. Once that fluid was dried, it became precious venom.

Sun Fuping, knowing its value, had taken what he could before tossing the carcasses overboard. But in the end, when He Chunhua looted him before his death, all of Sun’s treasures had passed to his enemies.

Now, with a kilogram of wild honey and imperial nectar in the jar, the syrup thickened so much the spoon could barely stir it. Once the five herbs went in, the liquid turned a muddy, opaque black.

Only after it began to bubble did He Lingchuan add the crushed turtle pearl and toad venom.

Curiously, what had looked like black swamp water slicked with oil began to shift. The color lightened from black to dark brown, then to light brown...

Until finally it settled into an uneven, murky yellow.

“No way. Is it seriously going to be this color?” By candlelight, he peered at the bottom of the jar. The more he looked, the more it resembled—

He refused to believe it, so he boiled it for half a cup of tea longer. But the color never changed.

The refinement had reached its end. By now, the liquid was as thick as malt syrup, and he could even lift it with chopsticks. Any more cooking and it would burn.

A’Luo had warned him that the finer the imperial nectar powder, the brighter the color. The best came out gold, red, even red-gold. At the very least, a decent batch should be deep green. His own concoction, this jaundiced yellow... to call it “passing” would be generous.

If A’Luo had been here, he might have kicked the jar over.

However, He Lingchuan was only a beginner. Still, the most likely culprit was the poor quality of herbs he had scrounged in town.

With chopsticks, he carefully scraped the sticky paste from the bottom of the jar.

The yellowish mass wound round and round the sticks, thickening into a lumpy, tubular coil.

This color... this shape... Oh, heavens.

And now he had to eat it.

Even knowing it was medicine, his neat-freak stomach rebelled.

But He Lingchuan shut his eyes and forced himself: Eat!

Huh? The taste isn’t bad at all. It’s quite sweet, even.

He smacked his lips and even took another nibble.

But just then, the night cook padded barefoot out from the back hall, an iron pan in hand. “Who’s there? Who’s in here!”

He had risen for his shift and, hearing noises, came to check.

“Stealing an official’s food, you little thief—ah!” His cry broke as He Lingchuan turned, startled.

“Oh, it’s the young master! That’s fine then.”

He gave a sheepish laugh, beamed a moon-bright smile, and spun back toward the kitchens.

But once his face was out of sight, the smile on his face vanished.

What was that in the young master’s hand? What was smeared on his mouth?

I couldn’t have seen wrong. But surely not, right? Surely, the heir of the He Family, who has tasted every delicacy under the sun, wouldn’t...

Then again, the dogs that the family raised...

“I wasn’t—” He Lingchuan tried to explain, but the cook was already scuttling off, feet as if greased with oil, too quick to catch. “I didn’t—”

No matter what he said, who would believe it?

He could only swallow the last of the paste from his chopsticks in silence and rise to leave.

But halfway to his room, his stomach suddenly clenched. Gurgling and bubbling, the pain doubled him over until he nearly could not stand.

It’s already taking effect?

But why does it have to take effect like this?

He Lingchuan had no time to ponder. Halfway back, he bolted for the latrine.

The moment he squatted, his qi surged down to the dantian, and what followed was an earth-shaking thunderclap. Outside, the roosting sparrows nearly took wing in fright.

Luckily, it came fast and ended fast. By the time he stood up, his whole body felt light and unburdened, as though he had shed two to three kilos in one go.

Others who swallowed imperial nectar, including himself that morning, had felt warmth surge through their stomachs, urging them into meditation. Why was it that after taking imperial nectar powder, his first reaction was to have to go to the latrine?

There was only a single word difference between the two, and yet the results were worlds apart.

He Lingchuan dared not look down. He scooped water to wash his hands and face in a rush, then headed back.

But with his first step, he felt as if springs had been fixed to his heels. His stride had become light, and his body had become buoyant.

This feeling, light as a swallow, surpassed even the comfort of his morning meditation or waking from a deep sleep.

Back inside, He Yue was already asleep. Perhaps thanks to the imperial nectar’s effect, his younger brother, who was usually so restrained even in slumber, was snoring softly for once.

He Lingchuan sat on the bed, but had no sleepiness at all. He had only just risen a few hours ago.

Forget it. Better to just cultivate.

He fetched a round cushion, found a quiet spot, and sat down.

Moonlight that was as gentle as water draped over his body.

The chorus of insects was louder than the night before, but he let it pass from his mind.

He Lingchuan steadied his breath, and within moments, he was already sinking into meditation. This was far quicker than usual.

* * *

When He Lingchuan next opened his eyes, eight hours had passed. The sun had already risen, spilling golden light straight onto his face.

Two guards stood outside his courtyard gate. There was no doubt that these two were assigned here by He Chunhua to keep intruders away.

Seeing him rise, they quickly turned and saluted, “Congratulations, Young Master!”

He Lingchuan was about to ask for what when a breeze carried a stench to his nose. The stench was rancid and foul, like rotting fish and shrimp stewing at the docks for days.

It was not quite as vile as the corpse-paste, but it was definitely enough to drive anyone back.

The two guards staggered three paces away on instinct.

He Lingchuan sniffed his sleeve, then realized that the reek was coming from his own body.

Opening his robe, he found his skin coated in a thin layer of dark, sticky slime, rank and noisome. His arms, legs, everywhere had it.

Madame Ying happened to be passing by. Even from a hundred meters away, she pinched her nose and said, “You stink, boy! Go take a bath at once! There’s hot water ready!”

“On my way!”

Behind the kitchen, several wooden tubs were lined up, steam curling from them.

He plunged into the first, and the slime melted into the water like ink, dyeing half the tub black.

With a grimace, he changed tubs.

Five tubs later, as well as four rounds of soap and heavy scrubbing with a coarse brush, the foul grease was finally gone.

Soaking in the hot water, he felt every pore open, the steam seemingly circulating through his body. He felt a comfort beyond words.

When he at last rose, cleansed and changed into fresh clothes, every cell in his body seemed to hum with vigor, as though if he stretched out his hand, he could punch a hole straight through the sky.

He Lingchuan understood then that this was the true sign that the imperial nectar had taken effect.

At birth, man was pure and untainted. But after tumbling through the turbid dust of the mortal realm, innate spirit qi dispersed, and filth accumulated.

Filth in the heart bred the Three Corpses.

Filth in the body drained one’s essence.

Left unchecked, the result was sickness, aging, and decay.

Setting aside the shift in his state of mind, the first step for any cultivator who wished to truly enter the path was to purge the impurities of the acquired self, restoring the body to its pristine state. Only then could one build a solid foundation for soaring progress ahead.

Many became stuck at this very threshold, their filth and essence bound together so tightly that under ordinary circumstances it was impossible to cleanse away.

And aside from its ability to shock the dull-witted into sudden clarity, the greatest treasure of imperial nectar lay here.

That layer of black slime now expelled from his body marked it clear that with the aid of imperial nectar, He Lingchuan had achieved his foundational breakthrough in one stroke!

The groundwork was laid; from here on, cultivation would be half the effort, twice the result.

He stretched, his bones crackling like a string of firecrackers going off. Yet he could not help but feel a twinge of regret.

The herbs he had rushed to buy in Shuanghe Town had been of mediocre quality and insufficient age. The final medicine’s potency was thus limited; in the end, it was the toad venom and turtle pearl that had done the heavy lifting.

A’Luo had already told him that Panlong City’s formulas for imperial nectar were not just about the first cleansing of muscles and marrow. Their true value lay in using it to amplify and stabilize the effects of other spirit medicines.

And what was imperial nectar, after all? Nothing less than purified spirit qi, the distilled essence of all life between heaven and earth. Once circulating through a body, it created the most hospitable environment for both health and cultivation.

On their own, the powers within the turtle pearl and the toad venom were far too abundant, nearly overwhelming. The venom was especially deadly, and swallowing it raw might have burst his meridians or even blown his body apart. But with imperial nectar acting as a guardian, their energies were tamed, corralled, and would now be released gradually over three months, slow and steady, transforming from external energies into his own true energy.

With imperial nectar’s amplifying and stabilizing effect, the possible medicines it could help create were beyond imagination.

Even his own crude, botched batch of imperial nectar powder had yielded such wonders. If so, what heights might the professional apothecaries of Panlong City reach, crafting rare elixirs with it? The thought alone made him marvel.

Too bad none of that had anything to do with him. If only he could get his hands on their formulas.

No, the truth was, the formulas were not the hard part. The real rarity was the imperial nectar itself.

A chance that came once in decades was already gone. Who knew how long until the next one came?

Then again, why was it that in the time of Panlong City, there had been four falls of imperial nectar in just three years?

Was it truly pure luck?

Outside, He Chunhua and his men sat in a circle, deep in discussion. When they saw He Lingchuan strolling over, they all froze. in place

Though he wore his usual careless air, his eyes gleamed sharp, his stride was fierce and predatory, so much so that others shrank back instinctively.

Even He Chunhua felt a fleeting doubt.

Is this truly my good-for-nothing son?

Alas, the illusion shattered the instant He Lingchuan opened his mouth, “I’m late, aren’t I? Missed lunch too, looks like?”

After so much meditation, his stomach had settled, and now it was growling fit to burst.

He Chunhua could only sigh and order, “Get him some food.”

He Lingchuan found a bamboo chair and sat. Beside him, Wu Shaoyi cupped his fists. “Congratulations, Young Master. You’ve laid your foundation!”

Whether in the path of martial arts or spellcasters, there was always a great barrier at the beginning. He Lingchuan had crossed it. With his seasoned eye, Wu Shaoyi could tell at a glance.