Steadily Upgrading Everything!
Chapter 23: Let’s Make Some Pills.

Chapter 23: Let’s Make Some Pills.

John stepped through the wide, ornate doors of the Nine Sky Martial House, a familiar clang from the hanging brass bell echoing across the hall.

The air inside buzzed with activity, more than usual.

Dozens of cultivators, mostly young and ambitious, were browsing shelves and counters filled with pill bottles, scrolls, cauldrons, and other alchemy-related items.

The scent of crushed herbs and spiritual incense hung heavy in the air.

It was a heady aroma, spiced with determination, nerves, and the unmistakable hunger for success.

John’s eyes scanned the crowd.

Nearly every person present was either at the Blood Refinement realm or higher.

Some wore clan insignias on their robes, others bore the distinct rings of minor sects, and all of them had one thing in common: they were preparing for the upcoming Blue Cauldron Sect Examination.

"Looks like the entire Eastern Province is turning up for this," John thought, adjusting the collar of his robe.

"They’re right to be excited. Blue Cauldron Sect isn’t just another sect, it’s a gateway to prestige."

As he made his way to the counter, he passed by a group discussing the entrance exam requirements.

"Heard they’re taking only fifty disciples this year."

"Tch, and you need at least Blood Refinement to even qualify."

"I’m from Firevale Clan. Our elder said even the Deep Slash Sect sends people to watch their exam."

"They say their Chief Alchemist can make Grade Nine Pills. That’s almost legendary!"

John absorbed it all, but his face remained unreadable.

Deep inside, he was already forming his strategy, not just to join, but to thrive.

Soon, he reached the main counter.

There, standing with her usual elegant grace, was the same blue-chengosam-clad girl who had helped him a year ago.

Her long black hair flowed neatly down her back, and her bangs framed her youthful face.

Her hands moved swiftly as she helped a customer pack a small cauldron into a satchel.

She turned toward him, her tone polite and composed. "Welcome, sir. How can I help you?"

John smiled faintly.

She didn’t recognize him, his Double Face Lizard Technique had altered his bone structure and aura completely.

In her eyes, he was just another cultivator, albeit one who didn’t look especially wealthy or powerful.

"I’m looking for alchemy books... and a full alchemy starter kit," he said calmly.

The girl blinked and tilted her head slightly, assessing him.

Her gaze drifted subtly over his robes, his worn boots, and the absence of any clan crest.

Her eyes lingered for a fraction of a second on the faint fluctuations of Qi around him, Bone Refinement Realm.

She gave a kind but measured smile.

"Sir, if I may, due to the upcoming examination, demand for alchemy-related items has surged. The price of basic manuals and even low-grade cauldrons has tripled in just the last ten days. My humble suggestion is that you wait until the exam draws closer. Prices should stabilize then."

Her voice was soft and respectful, but the meaning was clear, You probably can’t afford it.

And more subtly, You won’t even qualify.

Around them, several cultivators overheard the exchange and cast sideways glances.

Some chuckled under their breath, their eyes dismissive.

One youth muttered, "Another dreamer. Can’t even wait a few weeks for cheaper goods."

John chuckled inwardly.

If only they knew.

With a calm, unbothered expression, he reached into his robe and pulled out a thin black pouch.

He placed it on the counter.

A soft clink sounded from within, a spirit stone-heavy jingle unmistakable to those nearby.

"I’ll buy it at three times the price," he said, meeting her eyes with unshaken confidence.

The girl’s brows lifted.

The air stilled around them. A few customers turned fully now, curiosity gleaming in their eyes.

After a heartbeat of silence, she gave a small, impressed nod. "Understood, sir. Please wait a moment."

In less than ten minutes, she returned with a carefully packed crate and a selection of books.

"We’ve prepared a high-quality bronze cauldron, three starter manuals on flame control, herb classification, and basic pill refinement," she said.

"You’ll also find measuring tools, flame stones, and thirty satchels of foundational herbs. Everything a beginner would need."

She then set three thick scrolls on the counter, each tied with golden thread.

John inspected them one by one.

"The Alchemist’s First Flame", A manual on controlling spiritual fire and heat regulation.

"Herbs of the Wild Southern Continent", A beginner’s guide on recognizing, preparing, and combining over a hundred foundational herbs.

"Basic Pill Formulas & Their Energetics" A detailed text with ten entry-level pills, including energy, healing, and detoxification types.

"Perfect," he murmured, his heart stirring with purpose.

He handed over the inflated payment without a blink, placed the items in his spatial bag, and turned to leave.

Just before he stepped outside, the girl called out softly behind him.

"Good luck, sir. May your pills be pure and your flame unwavering."

John paused for a moment, smiled faintly, and replied without turning around:

"I don’t believe in luck. I believe in preparation."

With that, he stepped back into the crowd, the future whispering possibilities with every stride.

After purchasing the necessary tools and manuals for alchemy, John didn’t return to the inn.

Instead, he navigated through the eastern sector of the market until he arrived at a weather-worn, stone-walled compound known as the Apothecary Chambers.

These chambers were known across the city as specialized facilities crafted for pill refiners, able to endure the intense heat, spiritual explosions, and volatile chemical reactions of failed concoctions, especially useful for those still learning.

The scent of scorched herbs and faintly acidic fumes lingered around the compound like ghosts of past experiments.

The walls bore burn marks and soot stains, clear signs of what regularly took place within.

At the entrance sat an elderly man, perched on a wooden stool carved with spirit runes.

His long, white mustache flowed down to his chest like silver threads, and his bald head gleamed in the sun, catching the light like polished stone.

His robe was faded green, patched at the sleeves, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that made it clear he had seen far more failed alchemists than he cared to count.

As John approached, the man’s narrow eyes fixed on him, scanning him from head to toe.

He didn’t speak, just stared, sizing him up like a merchant judging a rare herb.

John bowed slightly in respect. "I need a chamber for a month."

A long silence followed. The old man chewed on the edge of his mustache for a second before finally replying, his voice gruff and unhurried.

"Two hundred spirit stones."

John’s eyes widened just a little.

He had expected it to be expensive, but that was steep, brutally steep.

Still, he didn’t argue.

Privacy, security, and a reinforced chamber for experimentation? That was worth the price.

He weighed the decision quickly.

"I’ve still got over five hundred spirit stones left. And if worse comes to worst, I can dig up the box I buried under the Banayan-like tree... That one still has at least two thousand more."

With a small nod, he pulled two hundred spirit stones from his spatial bag and placed them on the desk.

The old man, unmoved by the heavy clink of wealth, calmly slid a wooden token across the table.

Carved into it with crude but clear lettering was the number:

Thirty-Five.

"Chamber’s in the second courtyard," the man murmured.

"Keep the fire under control. You blow up a cauldron, it’s on you."

John inclined his head again in thanks and stepped through the arched stone gate into the inner courtyard.

Chamber Thirty-Five

The courtyard was lined with rows of squat, stone rooms, each separated by at least a meter of reinforced walls.

Iron-bound doors glinted in the sun, each with a number plate above them.

Small smokestacks poked from each rooftop, some gently puffing aromatic smoke into the air, proof that others were already hard at work.

He soon located Chamber Thirty-Five.

Sliding the heavy door open, he was met with a cool, slightly musty air.

The interior was surprisingly spacious.

A stone table dominated the center, large enough to accommodate three cauldrons side-by-side.

Next to it was a simple ironwood chair, solid and worn from years of use.

The room’s walls were built from obsidian-gray heat-resistant bricks, embedded with tiny shimmering runes that softly pulsed with spirit energy, likely enchantments to absorb blasts or reinforce structural stability.

A thick chimney pipe rose through the back wall above a designated fire pit, ready for flame stones or spiritual fire.

The door behind him clicked shut automatically with a muffled clunk, and no windows were present, ensuring the space was fully insulated.

A spirit stone lamp swung gently overhead, casting a bright but warm glow across the room.

"Impressive," John muttered, running his hand along the table’s edge. "They’ve really thought of everything. It’s the perfect place to start."

He set down his bronze cauldron, unrolled the manuals, and placed the bundles of herbs and tools in their respective places.

Each measuring spoon, each jade vial, and flame-regulating ring was neatly arranged.

He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly.

"This is it."

"A new path. A new beginning."

His fingers hovered over the alchemy manual he’d just purchased, his mind already calculating the best way to upgrade it using his available slot.

The room felt still, like a breath held before the storm.

John cracked his knuckles, rolled back his sleeves, and said softly:

"Let’s make some pills."