Wang Jun unrolled the parchment across the workbench, smoothing it with eager hands. Drawings of armor pieces sketched with meticulous precision filled the surface.

“I was thinking we focus on flexibility and mobility,” he said, tapping the parchment with a soot-stained finger. “You’re quick, up close, always moving. And, uh—don’t cultivators do that qi-infusing thing? Channel qi into your armor to make it tougher or something? I don’t know the details, but I figured that’d help too.”

I leaned closer, inspecting the sketches. "Well, yeah. I suppose we can. Not that I've had much practice with it. I know how to infuse my limbs, so I guess it shouldn't be too far from that."

He grinned widely, eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've unlocked something called Flowing Metal Arts. It lets me shape metal with my qi. I was able to make this." Wang Jun turned and lifted a bundle of cloth from the workbench, unfurling it carefully.

The cloth fell away, revealing a silvery fabric that rippled like water. But as I reached out and touched it, feeling the cool, silk-like sensation flow through my fingers, I realized it wasn't cloth.

"This is... metal?"

"Look closer," Wang Jun encouraged.

I brought it closer to my eyes, squinting carefully, and realized my hunch was right; it was composed entirely of miniscule metal links, each no bigger than half a grain of rice. It was as intricate as my woven robes from Crescent Bay City.

"You made this?" I asked, awe in my voice. "How?!"

"With my qi," he confirmed proudly. "Each link is shaped during forging. It’s extremely fine, flexible, but still as tough as armor. I'm making a set for all the Verdant Lotus disciples on top of repairing their weapons."

"I love it," I said earnestly, grinning at him. "I can't wait for my own set."

Wang Jun rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish but eager expression crossing his face. "Honestly, Kai, I’m still figuring out just how far I can push this new skill of mine. Right now, my biggest constraint is the quality and essence of the metal itself. It's like..." He frowned slightly, searching for the right analogy, "like your alchemy, I guess. It'd be hard to make a proper medicine with expired or rotten herbs, right? If the metal's essence is weak or impure, no matter how skilled I become, I'll never craft something truly extraordinary."

He tapped the forge thoughtfully, eyes distant with contemplation. "I've tried shaping different metals, experimenting and trusting my intuition, but it’s mostly been guesswork and instinct. I don't know how long it'll take for me to make yours; sometimes it works brilliantly, and other times… it doesn't. But if I can just find a way to somehow enhance the essence itself... I know it'll be something beyond your expectations."

Essence.

My mind connected the dots instantly. "Hold on a second—essence? Wang Jun, I can extract the essence directly from metals. Remember my Essence Extraction technique? I can use it on metals. Would something like that help?"

Wang Jun turned toward me sharply, eyes wide with shock. "Wait, you’re serious? You can use that on metals?" His disbelief quickly shifted into mild frustration, laced with excitement. "Why didn't you mention something that important sooner?"

I laughed awkwardly, holding my hands up defensively. "I honestly didn't realize it'd matter this much. I thought I'd mentioned it before."

Without a word, Wang Jun grabbed a thick iron bar from the nearby rack and shoved it into my hands. His voice was tight with urgency. “Extract the essence. Pour it into that bowl.”

I nodded and took the iron, centering myself. My qi moved easily now, familiar and fluid. The extraction came almost too naturally—as if the metal wanted to yield to me. A shimmer bled from the core of the bar, slipping into the bowl as a quicksilver liquid, glowing faintly even in the dim orange wash of the forge.

Wang Jun stood still for a beat, as though thinking on his next move, then he moved.

He turned, reaching into the forge with a set of tongs and pulling out an iron bar, already glowing bright orange from heat. The air pulsed with rising heat, distorting the space around the metal like a mirage. Even from several steps away, I felt the kiss of it on my skin—hot enough to sting, hot enough that I instinctively flinched and shielded my eyebrows.

Wang Jun didn’t flinch.

He held the bar steady with one hand, and in the other, took the bowl of essence. Without ceremony, he tilted it forward, letting the silvery liquid spill over the heated metal.

I expected the essence to sizzle or evaporate. Maybe even explode.

But it didn’t.

It sank.

The liquid soaked into the bar like water into dry soil, vanishing beneath the surface in slow rivulets, disappearing as if the iron was drinking it in.

“It’s taking it… I see. I can work with that.”

He said nothing more. Just stepped forward and raised his hammer.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

And then, he began to work.

The first strike rang out like thunder. Measured. He shifted the bar and struck again. And again. Folding the metal over itself, again and again, guiding it into itself as though he were braiding threads of silk. The sparks leapt in showers, coating the air in fireflies.

Each motion flowed into the next. His footwork, his swings, it all had a rhythm. Years of practice sharpened to instinct. It was beatiful in a way closer to martial arts; forging was an extremely physical task, just like cultivation.

The longer I watched, the more I realized: Wang Jun had reached a different level. The forge hissed, and the temperature rose further. The entire space felt alive, every clang of the hammer in sync with the pulse of qi that radiated from his body into the steel.

Slowly, the orange glow faded. In its place, the blade began to darken, not with soot or ash, but with something richer. A sheen of black spread along its length. Faint lines rippled through the surface—like the grain of wood, or ripples across still water.

At last, Wang Jun stepped back, breathing hard. He turned and plunged the blade into an oil bath.

The oil sizzled violently, steam bursting upward in a ghostly plume. For a moment, all I could see was smoke.

Then he drew the blade out.

My breath caught.

What had been a simple iron blank now gleamed darkly in the light. transformed. Its surface was smooth, layered, and lined with a subtle wave-like grain.

Black iron.

I stared, stunned. “That’s impossible.”

Wang Jun turned to me, still staring at it with a hint of disbelief. As though he couldn't believe he made it. “Something close. It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

“You can’t make black iron,” I said, stepping closer. “It’s mined. Rare. You don’t just... make it."

“I know.” He turned the blade over, running a finger down its edge. “But maybe… maybe it’s because we didn’t change the essence. We enhanced it. Iron... refined by iron. But to get something this durable… this pure…”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned toward the stone block near the anvil. Without pause, he raised the sword and struck.

The blade slid through the rock halfway before stopping, hissing with residual heat.

He pulled it free. The edge hadn’t dulled in the slightest.

Wang Jun stared at the weapon in his hands, as though he were trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle.

“It’s not true black iron,” he muttered, thinking aloud. “It’s not heavy enough. Doesn't have that same sharpness Master Qiang described. But it’s close. Stronger than steel. Lighter. And it's so easy to forge.”

I nodded slowly, my heart pounding. “So… what does this mean?”

He looked at me, and this time, his grin returned—wide, sharp, full of ambition.

“It means you’re not leaving until I have ten more of those essences. Maybe twenty. We’re not stopping until I find out just how far I can take this.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, caught in the same rising current of excitement.

“Deal. Just make sure my armor's perfect then.”

Wang Jun turned back to the forge, already gathering another bar of metal.

I cracked my neck, ready to work.

SCENE BREAK

By the time I left the forge, a low throb had begun to settle behind my eyes.

Even with how much easier it had become to channel the Essence Extraction technique, drawing out two dozen essences in less than an hour took its toll. The process wasn’t physically exhausting, not like combat or refining pills, but it still demanded a significant amount of willpower.

Still, it was worth it. If it meant helping Wang Jun push the limits of his new skill, I’d take the headache gladly.

And I still had time to spare.

The sun had dipped low by the time I returned home, its fading light stretching shadows across the workshop floor.

As I pushed open the door, the familiar scent of herbs and incense greeted me. Tianyi looked up from the front counter immediately, wings tucked and posture perfect. Her antennae perked.

“Good morning,” she chirped. “What can I get you?”

I blinked at her, then cracked a faint smile. “It’s the afternoon.”

She tilted her head, thinking. “Ah. Then—good afternoon. What can I get you?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. Her tone hadn’t changed at all. No embarrassment, no fluster. Just a casual course correction.

“You’re getting better at this, at least you didn’t try to sell someone the wrong thing today.”

Tianyi didn’t respond, but her wings gave the faintest flutter of contrition. We both knew what I was referring to.

A few days ago, she’d almost sold a vial of Bloodsoul Bloom essence to little Xiao Bao, who’d come in with a cough. If I hadn’t walked in when I did…

Needless to say, she’d gotten a crash course in color-coding vial bands and the shelf layout of safe vs. dangerous herbs.

The truth was, I could’ve just told her not to touch anything unless I was present. But I appreciated her help, and I think she relished in doing the work. Outside of combat or emergencies, she wanted to do something. To help. And if I could teach her to safely run the counter, then maybe she’d find her own rhythm in the quiet times too.

I stepped behind the counter, nudged open the back door, and stretched.

Time to work on my next quest.

Quest: A Garden of Living Seeds

Cultivate five hybrid spiritual plants to aid Gentle Wind Village:

- A stamina-restoring root for those who toil beyond their limits. (0/1)

- A calming lotus to soothe the emotionally shaken. (0/1)

- A qi-dense herb to build the foundations of low-stage cultivators. (0/1)

- A plague-resistant moss for purification and medicinal use. (0/1)

- A memory-enhancing flower to sharpen minds. (0/1)

The garden awaited. The village's prosperity depended on it, and I wouldn't go with half-measures.

The air outside was crisp, with the promise of thawed earth beneath the lingering snow. My workbench, tucked beneath the eaves, was cluttered with pots, scrolls, folded diagrams, and half-finished alchemical models of soil layouts. Nestled atop the mess were two familiar shapes.

“Yin Si, please stop making webs around my table."

The spider twitched all eight legs lazily, not bothering to move.

“Windy, off.”

The serpent let out a tired hiss but slowly uncoiled himself from the stack of charts he'd decided to lounge on. He slithered down onto the dirt and settled nearby, tongue flicking in what I assumed was protest.

“Thank you,” I muttered, brushing soot and silk aside. I rolled my sleeves up and stared down at the clay pots.

I exhaled and reached for my notes. Windy yawned beside me. Yin Si crawled higher on the wall.

I flipped open one of the shallow ceramic pots I’d buried test samples in last week.

The soil was dark, rich, almost too rich. As I watched, a thick, earth-toned worm pushed up through the surface before curling back beneath the loam.

These weren’t ordinary earthworms.

I’d first noticed them while cleaning the edges of the greenhouse. At the time, I thought they were just fat from feeding on composted spirit herbs. But now? They’d grown larger, glossier, more agile than any I’d seen before. Some could even break down dense medicinal roots like astragalus or ginseng without leaving behind rot.

They were transforming the soil.

The earth here pulsed with quiet life, deeper and more complex than any I’d felt when I first built this garden. It was a living organism now. Months of growing qi-rich herbs, combined with the composted remains of old refinement batches, dead pests cleared out by Yin Si and Windy, and Tianyi's daily presence—all of it had soaked into the land like seasoning in an old wok.

I pressed a palm gently against the soil and activated Nature’s Attunement.

Warmth rushed into me. Not just one pulse, but hundreds. The wood qi within stirring in response to my skill.

This was better than any field. Better than any sect-supplied planter box or alchemical clay pot. It was mine. And it was still evolving.

But it could be more.

I pulled back, letting the connection fade.

The soil was rich, sure. But if I wanted it to become the foundation for hybrid flora, it would need more than just good compost.

“Symbiosis,” I muttered aloud, reaching for a jar of old bone-meal and powdered ash.

I didn’t just want to grow five separate miracle herbs.

I wanted a garden that could nurture them. A garden that, even in my absence, would thrive.

A living seedbed of cultivation.

I set the materials down, and paused, thinking. I looked over my designs, trying to look for a source of inspiration.

What else could I use?

I thought of the Golden Bamboo, even the remains after being extracted of essence enhanced the quality of the soil.

What if I filled my seedbed with more materials like that?

Not necessarily alchemical herbs, butbodies of power. Old bones. Horns. Shells. Even Windy's old skin after molting. What would happen if the soil was fed not just the waste of growth—but its sacrifices?

My eyes narrowed.

The Black Tiger.

The one that died as a result of demonic cultists. I'd nearly forgotten about it in the chaos that followed.

But that thing had been powerful.

I stood, covering the pot gently. The worms burrowed deeper at my movement, vanishing beneath the mulch like fading thoughts. I stepped off the porch, wiping my hands as I walked.

The Verdant Lotus longhouse wasn’t far.

If it worked, if I could take that tiger’s remains and decompose it properly, then I'd be able to complete this quest in no time!