Harvesting spirit medicine wasn’t as dull as I’d imagined; it felt new as spring rain, each stalk bright as jade dew under my fingers.

Along the way, I learned their temperaments, like meeting a grove of old trees and learning each ring’s story.

“Eating spirit medicine raw barely does anything,” Serenemoon said, eyes drifting over the scenery like a lake mirroring clouds.

“You have to refine it into a potion to draw out its full strength.”

“Eh? Really?”

Surprise rose first, a pebble dropped in my chest-lake, then memory followed—every novel and manga I’d read had the hero refine, not chew.

“I’m not completely sure,” Serenemoon mused, voice soft as dusk bells.

“According to Aunt Saintvoice, swallowing raw medicine only gives the surface. Refining draws out the inner power as well.”

“Aunt Saintvoice said that? She came back?”

Hope flickered like a lantern in wind, then steadied.

“Mhm. Holy Voice returned recently, and she broke into the Law Realm,” Serenemoon said, nodding like a willow branch.

“The Law Realm?!”

My heart cracked like thunder over a high ridge.

“She’s not even forty, right? That’s too fast!”

Lingsaki’s voice popped like a startled sparrow; Lingxiao’s gasp followed like a breath of frost.

“Records say even Ancestor, heaven-defying as he was, reached the Law Realm around fifty,” Lingxiao added, voice as grave as stone tablets.

We traded looks, startled as deer in snow.

By my count, Aunt Saintvoice is thirty-six; to mortals that’s not young, yet to Law Realm years it’s a newborn’s first cry.

Even Ancestor wasn’t that outrageous—though his era’s conditions weren’t the Mizumi Clan’s spring-fed abundance.

“If Aunt Saintvoice said it, she’s not wrong,” I thought, settling like silt in clear water.

I studied a stalk; power coiled inside it like mist in a canyon.

Refined, it would flow better, like a river freed of stones.

“But none of us can refine, right?”

Waste pricked my conscience like thorns; Supreme Divine Spirit Medicine is common on the Central Continent, yet not for squandering.

“We’ll have to ask others,” I said, mind ticking like a water clock.

“Alchemists are a branch of mages. Some say it’s harder than magic itself.”

“Do we know any alchemist?”

The twins went quiet, thoughts sinking like stones into a deep pond.

Mine sank right beside theirs and found no pearl.

“Serenemoon, do you know anyone?”

Frustration pressed like a humid night before rain.

“Nope… I forgot to ask Aunt Saintvoice,” Serenemoon said, a small helpless shrug like a drifting leaf.

“Uh… then what do we do?”

The question fluttered in my chest like a trapped moth.

“Boss, you’re overthinking it!” Hill blinked at us, puzzled as a cat at snowfall.

“If there’s trouble, ask Master or Sister FrostyLily Dream. They’re mountains; alchemy’s a pebble.”

…

His words struck like a temple bell.

I didn’t know about others, but Xinuo and FrostyLily Dream? This couldn’t stump them.

“You’re right. No delay,” I said, resolve setting like ink on silk.

“Let’s harvest more today, then tonight ask Xinuo and FrostyLily Dream.”

“Mm!” the twins chimed, bright as wind chimes in a clean breeze.

Night fell like a velvet cloak.

After dinner and hot baths, we tallied today’s haul beneath lamplight: over two hundred stalks of Supreme Divine Spirit Medicine.

Most were restorative, gentle as warming tea.

We carried them to Xinuo and FrostyLily Dream and stated our request.

“Refining into potion works better than eating raw,” Xinuo said, nodding, fingers leafing through the herbs like a scholar through bamboo slips.

“Servants, don’t tell me you know nothing about alchemy?” he asked, a wry glint like moonlight on steel.

“Right, seeing what you brought almost made me laugh,” FrostyLily Dream added, her smile cool as frost on jade.

My ears warmed, a blush like sunrise on snow.

“W-We really don’t. Did we pick the wrong things?”

“The herbs are fine—good quality, actually,” Xinuo said, tone even as a still pond.

“The issue is you harvested only main ingredients.”

“Main ingredients?”

“There are primary and secondary?” the twins asked, eyes wide as two polished agates.

“Of course,” FrostyLily Dream said, explaining with the ease of a winter stream.

“Alchemy combines one or two main spirit medicines with several auxiliaries, refines them, then distills the liquid. That’s a potion.

“And you don’t even have basics like a cauldron or a spirit array diagram. Bold of you to come asking us to refine.”

“I see. Then what auxiliaries do we need? We’ll pick them tomorrow,” I said, embarrassed, like ink spilled on clean parchment.

“And the tools—tell us which ones.”

“No need,” she said, waving it off like drifting snow.

“Auxiliaries and tools are for ordinary alchemists. For Sister and me, no externals are required. We’ll refine directly.”

“Right. FrostyLily Dream, it’s yours,” Xinuo said, passing the task like handing over a jade token.

“Serving Sister is my honor,” she replied, bowing like a frost-laden reed.

Ice-blue light bloomed, a winter aurora that cloaked every herb.

She glanced at us. “Why are you staring? Go fetch preservation vials. Three hundred.”

“On it!”

We stepped out and ran into Lixue.

She carried a big basket like a moonlit cradle, full of delicate vials shaped like strange blossoms.

“Lixue, when did you prepare these?”

Amazement rose, quick as a hawk’s shadow.

“The moment I heard you’d ask Sir Xino and Teacher to refine, I went for vials,” she said, calm as quiet rain.

“The Mizumi Clan’s warehouse has plenty. None below Supreme Divine grade.”

“I… see.”

Shame pricked again, a thorn under silk; we’d asked for alchemy, yet Lixue was more prepared than us.

“Less chatter,” FrostyLily Dream called, voice ringing like a chime.

“Open the vials and wash them clean.”

“Okay—huh? It’s already done?!”

We turned back.

The herbs were gone like snow in sunlight, replaced by floating globes of liquid, each like a suspended pearl.

A rough count said about three hundred.

The lids lay ready, gleaming like neat rows of scales.

When the last vial was opened and rinsed, we heard a sharp whoosh.

Every globe arrowed into a mouth, caps snapped shut, and letters bloomed on glass like frost script.

Names and effects appeared—mostly repeats, tidy as a scribe’s ledger.

“All done. Three hundred bottles of Supreme Divine Elixir,” FrostyLily Dream said, already turning, light feet like drifting petals, heading to Xinuo.

“That’s it? So fast!”

A minute hadn’t passed; then I remembered her standing at Xinuo’s height, like twin peaks in one range.

Goal met; my heart settled like a moon on still water.

We’ll rest one more day, then head to the Dragon Realm to train under Crimson Dragon Heart.