Clan Rise: Starting as a Grandfather Chapter 1309: 848: Illusion God Pill, Turtle Breath Pill (2)

“Haha, Elder Yang surely won’t consider this old man a bother by then!”

“Absolutely not!” Yang Zhenshan chuckled heartily.

The pair continued their casual conversation for a while longer before Yue Ming took his leave, escorted by Yang Zhenshan all the way out of the courtyard.

Having departed from Yang Zhenshan’s dwelling, Yue Ming was heading back to his quarters when he suddenly bumped into Master Jing Shui.

“Greetings, True Person!” Yue Ming hastily cupped his hands respectfully.

Master Jing Shui gave a faint nod, turning to go, yet he halted abruptly. “Have you completed refining the Illusion God Pill?”

The news of Yue Ming’s intent to craft the Illusion God Pill was no secret; after all, decades of preparation had gone into it, with gathering just those twenty sets of ingredients demanding immense effort and time.

Yue Ming had approached Master Jing Shui earlier too, but alas, the master wasn’t an alchemist himself and lacked alchemist friends.

“It’s finished!” Yue Ming grinned broadly.

Noting his evident joy, Master Jing Shui realized he must have secured a substantial haul of Illusion God Pills.

“Is Elder Yang’s alchemy prowess that impressive?”

“I can’t say for certain, but he handed me twenty-five Illusion God Pills!” Yue Ming shared openly without hesitation.

“From twenty sets of herbs?”

“Exactly!”

“Split evenly?”

“Elder Yang tossed in an extra one for me!”

Master Jing Shui drew in a sharp breath. “That’s a success rate exceeding twenty percent, right?”

Yue Ming stayed silent; though versed in Immortal Cultivator alchemy in theory, he’d only directly experienced Yang Zhenshan’s handiwork among them.

As a Martial Artist, he always maintained a cautious distance from unknown Immortal Cultivators—no helping it, since the chasm between a Martial God and a Foundation Establishment Cultivator was immense, with scarce few Martial Gods able to rival them.

Master Jing Shui was utterly astonished; tackling entirely alien pills yet achieving over twenty percent success. Undoubtedly, early batches were squandered, so later yields must have soared even higher!

“Head back for now!”

With those words, he brushed past Yue Ming, striding directly toward Yang Zhenshan’s cliffside abode.

Within the abode, Yang Zhenshan was preparing to return to Spirit Source Land when Master Jing Shui arrived once more.

“Does Senior seek me for a matter?”

He ushered Master Jing Shui inside and inquired.

“Indeed. How proficient are you in alchemy?” Master Jing Shui cut straight to the chase.

He was aware Yang Zhenshan practiced alchemy; previously, Yang Zhenshan had gifted him Gathering Spirit Pills. Still, he figured Yang Zhenshan’s skill was merely Second-Order, given his recent Foundation Establishment breakthrough.

“Not bad at all!” Yang Zhenshan replied humbly.

“Could you craft Foundation Establishment Pills?” Master Jing Shui recalled the deal between Illusion Moon Sect and Spirit Source Land over such pills.

“Certainly, I can!” Yang Zhenshan affirmed with a nod.

Master Jing Shui’s gaze brightened. “There’s a pill I need you to refine!”

“Which one?”

“A Second-Order Turtle Breath Pill!”

Yang Zhenshan appeared baffled; the name was new to him.

Master Jing Shui produced a jade slip, his face a mix of emotions. “I’d long abandoned hope, but with your superior alchemy skills, giving it a shot costs nothing!”

Yang Zhenshan accepted the jade slip and delved into its contents.

The Turtle Breath Pill, a Second-Order elixir, enabled a cultivator to enter turtle breath state for a decade, drastically curbing lifespan drain while gradually boosting cultivation.

Perusing the jade slip’s details and recipe for the Turtle Breath Pill, Yang Zhenshan’s expression flickered briefly.

While it didn’t truly prolong life, the turtle breath state mimicked death—a deep slumber spanning ten years that only burned one year of lifespan.

Furthermore, spiritual energy from nature could be absorbed in this state; though less efficient than active meditation, over ten years it equaled two years of cultivation when adjusted.

In essence, trading one year of life for ten in turtle breath yielded the gains of two years in seclusion.

And that was merely for low-grade; mid-grade matched four years of seclusion, high-grade allowed twenty years of state with proportional benefits, top-grade stretched to fifty years while consuming just two, equaling ten years of seclusion.

Thus, ample Turtle Breath Pills could easily grant Master Jing Shui another two centuries.

Of course, perpetual turtle breath served no purpose; the true value lay in cultivation progress during it.

Should Master Jing Shui advance to late-stage Foundation Establishment via Turtle Breath Pills, his lifespan might extend dozens more years.

Yang Zhenshan marveled at the Turtle Breath Pill’s wonders, yet upon finishing the recipe, he grew somewhat wary.

Refining the Turtle Breath Pill outstripped Foundation Establishment Pills in difficulty, featuring numerous unheard-of herbs.

These mysteries meant ignorance of their properties, hindering precise handling of specialized refining steps.

To tackle it, he’d need to pioneer from zero, akin to his initial Foundation Establishment Pill efforts—dissecting the recipe painstakingly, countless iterations.

“Senior, this pill poses greater challenges than Foundation Establishment Pills!” Yang Zhenshan stated frankly.

Master Jing Shui chuckled. “I’m aware; I’ve consulted several Pill Masters before, none daring to attempt the Turtle Breath Pill!”

Pill refinement for others was lucrative for alchemists, yet unfamiliar recipes risked reputation with failures.

A tarnished name meant no future commissions, so alchemists rarely overstated their abilities.

“I possess only three sets of materials—enough for at most nine pills!”

“Treat it as training; no need to obsess over results!”

Master Jing Shui appeared accepting. “Gain is fortune, loss is fate!”

Lifespan’s erosion left cultivators profoundly helpless.

Master Jing Shui had striven against destiny, yet decades of toil yielded no viable lifespan extension.

Methods existed aplenty, but most lay beyond reach.

For instance, Third-Order Lifespan Extension Pills, or sinister arts like the Lian ancestor’s blood corpse puppet transformation or shifting to Ghost Cultivation.

In summary, options abounded, but demanded impossibility or wickedness, riddled with repercussions.

Master Jing Shui passed the painstakingly gathered three material sets to Yang Zhenshan, who paused before accepting.

“I’ll give it my all!”

Yang Zhenshan held deep respect for Master Jing Shui; this senior had aided him greatly, and repayment beckoned if possible.

Yet the Turtle Breath Pill’s refinement was daunting, and with merely three herb sets, confidence eluded him.

“No pressure—simply try your hardest, unburdened. I’ve made peace with it!”

Master Jing Shui laughed with open abandon.

“Birth, old age, illness, death—the human cycle; though we tread the Immortal Path, we remain bound by mortality!”

“Cultivation of immortality, cultivation of immortality—what endless road is the Immortal Path!”

Gazing at the feigned nonchalance of Master Jing Shui, Yang Zhenshan’s thoughts drifted.

What truly defines the Immortal Path?

The ultimate Dao? Or mere longevity?

It appears both, yet neither fully!

The Immortal Path is but cultivation’s voyage—neither supremacy nor eternity, merely an enigmatic trail.

The road stretches endlessly, and up and down I shall search for my way.