The sandalwood threshold of the main hall was damp from the morning dew. As Ye Fan followed Ye Yuanshan inside, the sound of his soles scraping against the blue stone slab was exceptionally clear. "Speak. What is it?" He lowered his gaze to his hands crossed at his waist, his knuckles turning pale from the force—before his encirclement and assassination in his past life, he had stood just like this inside the enemies' council hall, listening to them weave traps with high-sounding excuses.
Ye Yuanshan closed the hall door behind him, the bronze door ring striking a muffled thud: "People from the City Lord's Mansion went to Master Yun's herb garden this morning." He fished out half a piece of charred pill residue and slapped it onto the table. The fragrance of pills mixed with a scorched stench, making the tips of their noses sting with sourness. "City Lord Zhao said that the spiritual herbs provided by our Ye Family were adulterated, ruining three batches of Master Yun's 'Essence-Consolidating Pill'."
Ye Fan's pupils constricted slightly. Master Yun was Qinglan City's only tier-three alchemist, and the Ye Family's ability to gain a foothold in Qinglan City relied entirely on supplying him with ten hundred-year-old purple ginsengs every year in exchange for him refining Marrow-Cleansing Pills for the family's younger generation. If the cooperation broke down, the cultivation resources for the younger generation in the clan would be cut by at least thirty percent.
"That old fellow is clearly holding a grudge over what happened at the martial arts arena yesterday." Veins bulged on Ye Yuanshan's hand as he clutched the pill residue. "But Master Yun sent word this morning saying he wants to personally inspect our spiritual herbs. If the adulteration is really pinned on us..."
"I'll go," Ye Fan spoke up suddenly.
Ye Yuanshan was stunned: "You're only six—"
"Precisely because I am the legitimate son of the Ye Family." Ye Fan raised his head, the candlelight from the table reflected in the depths of his eyes. "Young Master Zhao was humiliated by me yesterday, so he will definitely be keeping an eye on the Ye Family's movements today. If I go to the herb garden, I can both show sincerity to Master Yun and..." He paused, "test the skills I've newly comprehended."
Ye Yuanshan stared at the youth's thin back for a moment, then suddenly patted his shoulder heavily: "Uncle Li has prepared the carriage; you take ten newly harvested purple ginsengs with you. If anything goes wrong..." His voice softened, "Just remember, the Ye Family can protect you."
The herb garden was located in the bamboo grove west of the city. As the shadows of the bamboo swept across the carriage curtains, Ye Fan lifted a corner. The morning mist had not yet dispersed, and a few servants in grey robes could be seen moving crates toward the herb garden—they bore the mark of the City Lord's Mansion.
"Young Master, we've arrived," Uncle Li's voice carried a hint of nervousness.
When Ye Fan got out of the carriage, he ran right into a young Daoist acolyte coming out with a tray of pill residue. When the child saw him, his eyes instantly turned red: "Master Yun smashed his pill furnace again! Please go inside and persuade him!"
The bamboo curtain was rolled halfway up by the wind. The moment Ye Fan stepped over the threshold, he was choked by the heavy medicinal aura and took half a step back. Master Yun was standing in the center of the pill room, his dark Daoist robe stained with soot, his usually neatly combed white hair a complete mess. The pill furnace in front of him had cracked, and charred pills rolled all over the floor, the one at the very edge still emitting wisps of blue smoke.
"Trash! All of you are trash!" Master Yun grabbed a medical manual from the table and slammed it fiercely onto the ground. "You can't even tell the age of a purple ginseng, yet you dare claim it's a hundred-year harvest?"
"Master Yun," Ye Fan bent down to pick up the medical manual, his fingertips touching the mottled ink stains on the pages—these were Master Yun's annotated alchemy insights. "The Ye Family's newly harvested purple ginseng is right here. You might as well inspect it yourself."
Master Yun turned his head abruptly, anger burning in his turbid eyes. But when his gaze swept over the brocade box Ye Fan was holding, he suddenly stopped. He staggered forward to lift the lid, his emaciated fingers gently stroking the ginseng roots: "This one... is one hundred and thirty years old?"
"Yes, it was just harvested from the northern foothills of Thousand Peaks Mountain yesterday." Ye Fan noticed that Master Yun's hands were trembling. "Could the pill furnace you ruined earlier have nothing to do with the herbs?"
Master Yun suddenly grabbed his wrist with astonishing force: "Do you know what kind of pill I am trying to refine?" Without waiting for an answer, he dragged Ye Fan over to the pill furnace. "The Essence-Consolidating Pill is to cure the cold poison of the Prince of Zhenbei's only son! That young master suffers an attack every month, writhing in pain on the ground... If this batch fails again, this old life of mine will be on the line!"
Ye Fan lowered his gaze to the pill furnace, and the clear spring within his Inner World suddenly rippled. He closed his eyes and focused; memories of his past life rushed in like a tide—the art of alchemy was inherently in tune with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. At this moment, he could clearly "see" that the residual spiritual energy trajectory inside the pill furnace was tangled like a mess of hemp: the heat was three parts too hasty during the third revolution, causing the medicinal aura to fail to fully fuse.
"Master Yun," when he opened his eyes, a shimmering light swirled in their depths. "Try dividing the heat into three stages: use a gentle fire for nourishment during the first half-hour, switch to a fierce fire to stimulate once the medicinal auras blend, and finally leave a trace of residual heat to simmer slowly." He pointed to the crack in the pill furnace. "In addition, this furnace needs to be replaced—look at the patterns on furnace walls, they are made of fire-attribute spiritual jade, which clashes with the wood-attribute herbs you usually use."
Master Yun's breathing abruptly quickened. He tremblingly felt out a fire-patterned jade token and slapped it onto the table: "Go! Bring my dark iron pill furnace here!" He then turned and stared fixedly at Ye Fan. "Little friend, if you can help me succeed with this batch of pills..."
Two hours later, the fragrance of pills drifted out from beneath the bamboo curtain. Master Yun's hands shook as he held a jade vial; twelve pills inside the vial glowed with a pale golden halo, with each pill surface floating a thread-thin medicinal pattern—this was the divine manifestation unique to tier-two medicinal pills!
"Good! Good!" He suddenly dropped to his knees before Ye Fan. "I have lived for sixty years, and only today do I know what a heaven-defying genius truly is!"
Ye Fan hurriedly went to help him up: "Master Yun flatters me too much."
"It is I who deserve the flattery!" Master Yun wiped his face and pulled a green jade case from his sleeve. "This is 'Star-Fallen Grass' I obtained from traveling overseas in my early years. There are nine stalks in total, and I give them to the Ye Family as a token of gratitude. From now on, as long as I, Yun, am in Qinglan City, I will not charge a single coin for the Ye Family's pill recipes!"
On the return trip in the carriage, Uncle Li hummed a little tune and cracked his whip. Ye Fan lifted the corner of the curtain and saw servants from the City Lord's Mansion dejectedly carrying empty crates back—Master Yun had just deliberately had the herb inspection results written into a notice posted at the entrance of the herb garden. The eight bold characters, "Ye Family Spiritual Herbs, A Hundred Years Without Fraud," were far more eye-catching than the plaque of the City Lord's Mansion.
Yet just as the carriage turned the street corner, a beggar suddenly bumped into them. Uncle Li hurriedly reined in the horse, but the beggar shoved a slip of paper into Ye Fan's hand and fled.
The ink on the note was still wet, written in crooked blood-red characters: "Ye Xuer is in my hands. Trade the Star-Fallen Grass for her. Midnight at the dilapidated temple in the western suburbs."
Ye Fan's fingertips grew abruptly cold. Ye Xuer was his half-sister, only four years old, who had been squatting at the courtyard gate weaving grasshoppers for him just yesterday...
"Uncle Li, return to the estate." His voice was as steady as if nothing had happened, yet the clear spring in his Inner World churned with towering waves. When he was framed in his past life, his enemies had also started by targeting the people he cared about most. This time, he would never repeat the same mistakes.
Amidst the sound of the carriage rolling over the blue stone slab, Ye Fan stroked the green jade case in his bosom, his gaze growing cold. He wondered: Who knew the Star-Fallen Grass was in his hands? Why did the kidnappers choose Ye Xuer? What was the terrain of the dilapidated temple in the western suburbs like? More importantly—how was he going to break this game?
Returning to the Ye estate, Ye Fan walked straight to the study and took out a map of Qinglan City. He carefully studied the location and surrounding environment of the dilapidated temple in the western suburbs, gradually forming a plan in his mind. The clear spring in his Inner World seemed to provide him with inspiration as well, continually surging with new ideas.
As night fell, Ye Fan changed into a set of lightweight black clothes, took a few essential weapons and tools, and quietly left the Ye estate. Under the moonlight, his figure moved like a ghost, swiftly stealthing toward the direction of the dilapidated temple in the western suburbs.
Arriving at the dilapidated temple, the surroundings were utterly silent. Ye Fan hid behind a large tree to observe for a while, discovering several hidden sentries around the temple, though none of them were difficult to deal with. He took a deep breath and decided to eliminate these sentries first before entering the temple to rescue the captive.
Utilizing the power of his Inner World, Ye Fan silently approached the first sentry and instantly subdued him. Afterward, he used the same method to clear out the remaining sentries. Confirming it was safe, he cautiously walked into the dilapidated temple.
The interior of the temple was dim and pitch black, save for a faint, flickering candlelight. Ye Fan spotted Ye Xuer tied to a pillar at a glance; her eyes were red and swollen, clearly having cried for a long time.
"Brother..." Seeing Ye Fan, a trace of pleasant surprise flashed in Ye Xuer's eyes.
Ye Fan motioned for her to stay quiet, then quickly untied her ropes. Just as they prepared to leave, a deep voice came from the darkness: "Do you think it's that easy to escape?"
Ye Fan turned around vigilantly, only to see a masked figure slowly emerging from the shadows. The man held a long sword, his gaze fierce: "Hand over the Star-Fallen Grass, or none of you leave this place alive today!"
Ye Fan looked at his opponent calmly, his mind racing for a countermeasure. He knew that brute force might not guarantee the upper hand, so he had to outsmart them. Thus, he deliberately relaxed his posture, pretending to hesitate over whether to hand over the Star-Fallen Grass.
"What do you want?" Ye Fan asked, a hint of helplessness in his tone.
"Simple," the masked figure sneered. "Give me the Star-Fallen Grass, and I'll let this little girl go."
Feigning deep thought while lowering his head, Ye Fan struck like lightning, launching a hidden weapon toward the masked figure's eyes. Simultaneously, he pulled Ye Xuer to swiftly dodge to the side. Failing to react in time, the masked figure was struck by the hidden weapon and let out a cry of pain.
Seizing the opportunity, Ye Fan drew the short sword at his waist and engaged the masked figure in fierce combat. Although the opponent possessed considerable strength, Ye Fan gradually gained the upper hand by relying on the experience accumulated from his past life and the power of his Inner World.
After a fierce battle, Ye Fan finally found an opening in his opponent and pierced his vital point with a single sword stroke. The masked figure collapsed to the ground, completely motionless.
"Let's go!" Ye Fan picked up Ye Xuer and quickly fled the dilapidated temple. Upon returning to the Ye estate, he recounted the entire sequence of events to Ye Yuanshan and suggested strengthening the family's security measures.
This incident only served to cement Ye Fan's determination to protect his family, while making him realize that in this perilous world, true protection of all he cherished could only be achieved through the continuous enhancement of his own strength.