Chapter 67

Refining a supreme-grade pill is never an easy task. The word “supreme” represents perfection, and achieving perfection in anything is no small feat.

Han Luo calmed his mind and used spiritual energy to ignite his pill flame. Then, with utmost precision and focus, he began refining one spiritual herb after another. His every movement was deliberate and meticulous.

The first step in refining a supreme-grade pill was to purify the herbs nine times. This wasn’t just a test of spiritual power—it demanded deep familiarity with each herb, precise control over the flame, sharp sensitivity to the surrounding spiritual energy, and countless subtle skills honed through experience. A true alchemist had to endure long hours of solitude, and their temperament had to be steady and calm.

The herb refinement process was dry and tedious, akin to a middle-aged man turning in his monthly taxes: boring, repetitive, and downright soul-crushing. It wasn't like the kind of meditation one did in cultivation, where you could close your eyes, open them again, and find decades or even centuries had passed.

No—refining herbs demanded complete clarity, unwavering focus, and not a single mistake. Every last drop of essence had to be drawn out from the herbs and fused into the final pill. There was no room for error. One slip, and the entire batch would be ruined—especially when it came to refining a supreme-grade pill.

But if there was one word that defined Han Luo, it was "focus." He approached everything he did with an unshakable dedication. Coupled with his daily practice of the ancient jade visualization method, his mental strength had improved rapidly, all in preparation for crafting the supreme Spirit Tempering Pill.

Using his body as the source of pill fire, he refined the herbs—once, twice, four times, six times… and finally, nine times. It seemed effortless, but behind that ease lay countless failed attempts, wasted materials, and ruined furnaces. Only after all that did he finally reach this level of mastery.

With the purification complete, Han Luo began the actual pill refinement. Most people would call this part dull and repetitive—but for him, it was anything but. To Han Luo, this was a brand-new world, one where he felt like a joyful fish swimming through a vast, mysterious sea. It brought him a deep, personal joy.

As the process progressed, the pill furnace trembled slightly—signaling that the refinement of a supreme pill was complete.

Han Luo slowly opened his eyes. His brown pupils were unremarkable—neither deep nor bright, and certainly not filled with stars like the legends—but if they held one strength, it was focus.

He glanced at the pill furnace on the table. There was no thundercloud, no cosmic phenomenon, not even a dazzling flash of color or the typical fragrant aroma of pill success.

“Could it have failed?” he muttered.

He opened the furnace lid and peered inside. At the bottom lay a pill the size of a pinky, dull brown in color and lifeless in appearance. It looked even more ordinary than regular pills—clearly the image of failure.

Putting on a pair of enchanted gloves, Han Luo carefully picked it up. But the moment his fingers touched the pill, a sudden surge of raw, unyielding spiritual force rushed toward him.

Han Luo reacted instantly, using his own spiritual power to shield himself.

“How interesting…” he murmured, examining the pill in his hand.

Though weak, the spiritual force inside the pill was astonishingly stubborn—like a rock that refused to crack. It fought back without fear. One of the hallmarks of a supreme-grade pill was a trace of spiritual will, a budding sense of life.

“This cultivation world really is full of surprises. Even a tiny pill can carry a flicker of instinct like an ant moving grain.”

Adjusting the lens of his enchanted glasses, he examined the Spirit Tempering Pill more closely, hoping to glean more useful data.

Suddenly, the pill burst with several blinding flashes of light and shot out of his hand with a sharp whoosh.

Han Luo made no move to stop it. He had already prepared, setting up multiple formations in the room to prevent such an escape.

The pill, no longer pretending to be lifeless, now darted madly around the alchemy chamber, crashing into walls in an attempt to flee. But no matter how wildly it struggled, escape was impossible.

"Return," Han Luo commanded.

The pill obediently flew back into his palm. He adjusted his glasses again to observe and record every detail, then summoned Jiutong.

“Jiutong, your master promised to help you complete seven temperings. This is a supreme Spirit Tempering Pill. Combined with the tempering formation, it should allow you to achieve that.”

Tongue wagging and eyes gleaming, Jiutong gobbled the pill without hesitation. Then, with the aid of the tempering formation, the process began.

As usual, Han Luo took out his little notebook and started recording carefully.

Two hours passed. When Jiutong opened his eyes again, Han Luo smiled—he could already tell that Jiutong had successfully completed seven temperings, placing him on par with powerful figures like Chi Xiao and Shen Xian’er.

“Woof woof…” Jiutong wagged his big head and rubbed affectionately against Han Luo’s leg, making his master feel warm inside.

Jiutong was like his own child. Helping him grow brought Han Luo genuine happiness. And honestly, the result had been within expectations—he knew Jiutong well, and he understood the supreme Spirit Tempering Pill’s power.

With Jiutong’s breakthrough complete, Han Luo got back to work. Over the following days, he refined all the remaining materials into more supreme Spirit Tempering Pills.

Once done, he gazed at the small mountain of pills before him and began to wonder—was this really that difficult? Maybe he should consider mass production. He could sell them or trade for things he needed.

He remembered something else he’d seen in the ancient texts: seven temperings was considered perfection, yet nowhere did it say that further tempering was impossible. Nor did it say it was possible. That in itself was telling.

After extensive research, he uncovered a shocking truth—seven temperings was not the limit. No one knew what the actual ceiling was. Somewhere along the line, seven simply became the universally accepted maximum.

As a cultivator with a thirst for discovery, Han Luo decided to experiment and see whether further tempering was possible.

Naturally, his first thought was Jiutong. They were closest, and Jiutong was obedient—an ideal partner for experimentation.

But after thinking it over, he shook his head. The eighth tempering would likely have extreme requirements for talent, and Jiutong, at the end of the day, was just a regular dog. Forcing him through another round could be fatal. Han Luo wanted to experiment, not commit murder.

That left only one candidate—Shen Xian’er, the ever-hungry foodie.

With her seventh-grade spiritual root, she was likely capable of handling an eighth tempering. It seemed entirely feasible.

Decision made, he pulled out his communication stone.

“Xian’er, I’ve got food. Get back here. Fast.”