Spells Grinding: From Basic Sparks to Divine Arts

Chapter 235: Second-Grade Top-Tier

The steward was quick. A moment later, the heavy courtyard gate creaked open.

“Senior, my Lord is waiting for you in the inner courtyard. Please follow me.”

“Understood.” Qin Lu stepped into the estate, his eyes sweeping over the surroundings.

The residence was hardly luxurious. In fact, it was a mess. Tools and crates were piled haphazardly in corners, and the garden had clearly surrendered to the wild, overgrown with weeds and untrimmed ivy. The silence was absolute; there wasn’t a single servant in sight.

Following the steward through the dusty corridors, Qin Lu eventually arrived at the central courtyard. There, he saw the legendary alchemist, Fan Yueren.

He was a disheveled, middle-aged man, roughly Qin Lu’s age, though he looked decades wearier. His robes were stained with soot and chemical burns, and his hair was a bird’s nest of tangles that danced wildly in the breeze. He looked less like a master cultivator and more like a homeless eccentric.

Fan Yueren stared blankly at Qin Lu. “You want something?”

“Greetings, Fellow Daoist Fan. I am Qin Lu. As we meet for the first time, please accept this small token of my respect.”

Qin Lu didn’t hesitate. He pulled a palm-sized chunk of metal from his Storage Bag and offered it with both hands. The metal pulsed with a soft, inner light.

This was a tip from Xi Ren. Apparently, Fan Yueren was an alchemy genius who secretly harbored an obsession with artifact refining materials. Qin Lu had spent a small fortune at a local market to acquire this specific ore.

Fan Yueren’s eyes lit up. “Oho! [Silver Flower Iron]! You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

A brilliant smile replaced his blank expression. His hand shot out, snatching the metal and stuffing it into his own Storage Bag with practiced speed. The motion was uncannily similar to the way his steward had palmed the wine earlier.

Qin Lu sighed internally. Like master, like servant. The apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree… or in this case, the rat doesn’t dig far from the hole.

Having secured the bribe, Fan Yueren seemed much more amenable. He shook his head like a wet dog, tossing his messy hair out of his eyes. “Qin Lu, was it? Hehe, what can I do for you today?”

Qin Lu cupped his hands. “I won’t hide it. I am here to beg for a Pill.”

Fan Yueren didn’t blink. “Figured. Tell me the symptoms.”

Qin Lu repeated the diagnosis he had given at the shop—the severed limb, the coma, and the invasive, persistent energy of a “fake” Golden Core.

“I see…” Fan Yueren stroked his chin, his playful demeanor vanishing. “If that’s the case, your friend is in deep trouble. Standard remedies won’t touch that energy. You would need a Second-Grade Top-Tier pill to even stand a chance.”

“Fellow Daoist Fan… are you capable of refining such a pill?” Qin Lu asked cautiously.

“Can’t guarantee it.”

Fan Yueren shrugged. “I may be at the Foundation Establishment Perfection stage, but Top-Tier pills are notoriously fickle. Even if my technique is perfect, without the right formula, it’s useless. You can’t cure frostbite with burn cream, no matter how high-quality the cream is.”

“Then… do you have a formula that fits?” Qin Lu asked, his heart in his throat.

“Heh!” Fan Yueren smirked. “Lucky for you, I do. It’s called the [Du’e Pill]. It’s designed specifically for purging foreign energies and knitting flesh. It fits the symptoms perfectly. However… I still can’t guarantee the outcome.”

Qin Lu nodded. “Understood. If the pill works, how much recovery can we expect?”

“I can guarantee he wakes up. I can guarantee his arm grows back,” Fan Yueren said with a confident grin. “But… I can’t promise he won’t have lingering damage to his foundation or his mind. If you want a perfect recovery with zero risk, go find a Golden Core master.”

“Is that so…” Qin Lu murmured, weighing the options.

“Take your time,” Fan Yueren said, tossing his hair again. “I’m in no rush.”

Qin Lu looked up, his eyes hard. “No need. Please, Fellow Daoist, help me refine the [Du’e Pill]!”

Fan Yueren blinked, surprised by the decisiveness. “Alright then. You caught me at a good time; I was about to enter Secluded Cultivation to break through. Since you know how to conduct business, I’ll take the job.”

“Thank you! I am eternally grateful!” Qin Lu bowed deeply. He mentally thanked Xi Ren for the intel; without that hunk of iron, he would have likely been turned away at the door.

“Hold your thanks.”

Fan Yueren flicked his wrist, and a piece of paper shot out of his sleeve, hovering before Qin Lu. “This is the materials list. Gather everything as fast as you can. And get three sets—failure is always an option.”

Qin Lu grabbed the list. It contained over twenty rare ingredients. Some he recognized; others were completely foreign. He wasn’t surprised, though. In the world of custom alchemy, the client always provided the materials.

“Understood! Please wait for me, Fellow Daoist. I will return once I have everything.”

“One condition,” Fan Yueren added sharply. “Get it done within half a month. If you’re late, I’ll be in seclusion, and I won’t be coming out for anyone.”

Qin Lu’s face tightened. Two weeks was a brutal deadline for such rare items. “No problem!”

By the time Qin Lu left the Fan estate, the sun had set. Yet, Shuntian City remained bathed in light. As he had suspected, the massive lanterns floating above turned the night into a perpetual twilight, allowing the bustling life of the cultivators to continue uninterrupted.

“Hoo…”

Qin Lu exhaled a long breath, feeling the tension in his chest loosen, only to be replaced by a wave of heavy exhaustion. Between the travel, the rescue, and the high-stakes negotiations, he was drained.

“I’ll rest tonight,” he decided, rubbing his temples as he merged into the crowd. “The hunt for ingredients starts tomorrow.”