Chapter 1368: Chapter 541: Gathering of the Wise

The door of this cultivation secret room has been tightly closed for more than twenty years.

In the very center of the chamber, a giant pill furnace is placed. The pill furnace is grey-blue, with the full text of the "Baopu True Technique" engraved on the body, and a green ox coiled on the lid.

Inside the pill furnace, the air circulation surges, emitting a grey-blue light, sometimes bright, sometimes dim.

Tao Liang is sitting cross-legged in this pill furnace, eyes tightly shut, continuously cultivating.

Most cultivators use the pill furnace for alchemy. However, this lineage uses the pill furnace for their own cultivation.

Twenty years ago, Tao Liang entered the pill furnace and never came out.

In this cultivation, one knows neither the rising nor the setting of the sun, the turning of seasons, only the heat within the furnace, only the hue of the Golden Core.

This is the "Embrace Pill and Become Immortal Skill"!

This cultivation technique has another origin—it is derived from Demon Skill.

Demon cultivators excel in using people to create pills; ancestors turned demon to righteousness, considering themselves as human pills, voluntarily entering the pill furnace, using countless spiritual materials to temper themselves.

Tao Liang’s eyelids twitched, divine sense active, the storage bag at his waist opened a tiny seam, allowing a wave of spiritual materials to fly out.

The spiritual materials are placed into the flames, quickly burning and melting, turning into pill liquid and pill vapor. First, the mist envelops Tao Liang’s entire body, then the pill liquid permeates into the dantian.

Deep within the dantian, his Golden Core is perfectly round and flawless, slowly rotating, continuously absorbing the medicinal properties, steadily growing.

"Ten more years."

"In ten years, my Golden Core will reach peak, ready for breaking core to Nascent Soul."

"Hmm?"

At this moment, a divine sense transmission entered the pill furnace, reaching Tao Liang’s Divine Sea.

"Didn’t I say not to disturb my cultivation unless it’s a major matter?" Tao Liang was first shocked and angry, then immediately delighted.

"Wait, it’s the Nanming Fire Furnace?!"

"How could such a big mistake happen on Danxia Peak?"

"Haha, I didn’t expect it. Do I actually have the chance to become the master of the Nanming Fire Furnace?"

"If I have this furnace, repair the energy, and use it for my cultivation. I won’t need ten years of seclusion."

"This time will be greatly reduced, perhaps not even three years!"

Tao Liang, upon thinking this, was suddenly startled, couldn’t help but sigh: "Alas..."

"Mind agitated, state of mind has changed."

"This time, I must leave the furnace."

It turns out that for cultivating the "Embrace Pill and Become Immortal Skill," in addition to an excellent pill furnace and sufficient spiritual materials, a matching state of mind is also required.

Now the state of mind has been disturbed by the news of the Nanming Fire Furnace, and it can no longer support continued seclusion.

Only leaving seclusion!

"Nanming Fire Furnace, here I come."

...

Ancient Tomb Black Market.

There is no sunlight here, shrouded in dim light from year to year. The light comes from Spirit Light Stones hanging from the stalls on both sides, low in grade, dim and dull, making the entire street looks like a sleeping giant serpent, winding into the darkness.

The air is mixed with various scents of spiritual materials—herbs, ore, beast bones, pill liquid, and an indescribable musty smell, the sediment of countless years.

Both sides of the street are crowded with stalls. Some are as simple as a piece of worn cloth laid on the ground, some as exquisite as carved beams and painted rafters, and some are simply a cushion, with the vendor sitting cross-legged on top, displaying a few items in front with an indifferent attitude.

Cloud Wanderer’s stall is the most inconspicuous type on this street.

A piece of cloth, grey and dull, its original color indistinguishable, with several scorched marks around the edges, as if burned by some flames. The cloth is neatly arranged with rows of medicine bottles, old bottles bearing fine cracks but meticulously wiped clean, reflecting a gentle glow in the dim light.

Labels written in Cloud Wanderer’s scrawled but clear handwriting are stuck on the medicine bottles—Healing Powder, Antitoxic Powder, Qi Recovery Powder, Enhancing Powder, Calming Powder. Each one is the most commonly used consumable in the cultivation world.

At the far right side of the medicine bottles, there’s a small pill furnace about the size of a palm.

The pill furnace is very small, small enough to be held in one’s palm. Its body is dark green, rough with no decorative marks, even with some uneven casting traces, like a rejected defective product. But the inner wall is smoothly polished like a mirror, with faint fire lights flowing, indicating it is simple yet used for a very long time.

Cloud Wanderer sits cross-legged behind the cloth, meditating.

He looks about forty years old, with a lean face, slightly high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, showing a weathered look from wind and sun over the years. His grey-white Daoist robe is washed to a pale shade, with several mending stitches at the cuffs, sewn with careful neatness, like done by his own hand. His hair is casually tied with a wooden hairpin, a few straggling strands dangling in front of his forehead, faintly swaying in the elusive dark market breeze.

"Cloud Wanderer."

A voice comes from the front of the stall.

Cloud Wanderer opens his eyes, lazily gazing at the newcomer.

"It’s you." Cloud Wanderer recognizes the person, speaking in a flat tone, picking up a bottle of Healing Powder from the cloth and tossing it over, "Same old terms?"

The middle-aged cultivator catches the medicine bottle, doesn’t answer immediately, instead hefting it in his hand, uncorking to sniff it, before nodding: "Same old terms."

He takes a few Spirit Stones from his sleeve, places them on the cloth, then sits cross-legged facing Cloud Wanderer.

"How many years of friendship?" The middle-aged cultivator suddenly sighs, eyes fixed on Cloud Wanderer, "We’ve known each other for over thirty years, right?"

"Thirty-seven years." Cloud Wanderer accurately states the number, still speaking calmly, but the corners of his mouth slightly curl.