Monsters also need to cultivate immortality scientifically (8): The glory of science has shifted from alchemy to refining equipment~

The collaboration with the Spirit Taming Sect proceeded remarkably smoothly. The moment their representatives heard that Lingxiao Sect was willing to share the secrets of refining supreme-grade Spirit Recovery Pills—along with other supreme-grade recipes—they were practically delirious with joy. Their attitude toward Lingxiao’s envoys couldn’t have been more obsequious; they might as well have enshrined them as ancestors.  

The previously tense atmosphere vanished instantly, replaced by warm and cordial discussions. When the Spirit Taming Sect confirmed they could obtain these methods in exchange for just one-third of their future profits, they’d have been fools to refuse such a windfall.  

After haggling over material costs, labor, and distribution expenses, they managed to negotiate the share down to one-fifth.  

Lingxiao Sect, who’d have been content with even a tenth, was secretly overjoyed. They “reluctantly” agreed, and both sides established a Heart Demon Oath to ensure long-term stability.  

Then, the Spirit Taming Sect dispatched their master alchemists to Lingxiao Sect for training. These typically arrogant experts initially looked down on the visit, considering it beneath their dignity to learn from another sect. Their haughty demeanor, however, evaporated the moment they witnessed rows of cauldrons simultaneously producing flawless pills, each batch radiating with spiritual mist. They shut their mouths immediately, not daring another word of complaint.  

When they discovered that the genius behind this revolutionary method was a teenager who’d only begun cultivating a few months prior, whatever remnants of pride they had dissolved entirely.  

Anyone could foresee the heights this prodigy—backed by the cultivation world’s strongest sect and its most formidable expert—would reach.  

Offending him? Unthinkable. The only option was to swallow their pride and ingratiate themselves…  

Their already humbled attitudes turned to outright reverence when Si Qi produced a thick manual of pill recipes—every single one guaranteed to yield supreme-grade results.  

These lifelong alchemy fanatics stared at the book with burning intensity, immediately pulling out their personal cauldrons to test the methods.  

At first, they struggled to adapt: Why discard so much of the spirit herb? And using spirit stones to control temperature instead of spiritual flames?  

But having just witnessed hundreds of flawless batches, they weren’t foolish enough to question Si Qi’s techniques. They abandoned their old habits and followed the instructions to the letter. Within hours, cauldron after cauldron of perfect pills emerged, leaving even these seasoned masters dumbfounded.  

Unlike amateurs who only grasped the basics, these experts truly understood the monumental significance of Si Qi’s innovations. It meant that even a novice could now produce pills rivaling their own masterworks…  

The elderly alchemists gazed at the miraculous results with complex expressions, silent for a long time.  

Finally, one sighed and smiled at Si Qi. “The new generation surpasses the old. Your contributions will be etched into the annals of cultivation history, benefiting countless generations.”  

Si Qi waved it off. “I merely followed my interests. If you’d like to study these recipes, feel free. And should you wish to discuss further, I’m always willing to listen.”  

The masters exchanged glances. “We may indeed need your insights in the future. We’ll trouble you then.”  

“Of course.”  

After spending weeks at Lingxiao Sect, the masters confirmed that Si Qi’s methods were foolproof—simply follow the steps, and failure was nearly impossible.  

Memorizing the entire manual, they privately debated its finer points: Why use only specific parts of certain herbs? Why substitute traditional ingredients?  

Their conclusion? Si Qi’s versions were flawless. Every adjustment was optimized to perfection—something only possible with godlike mastery of alchemy.  

Thus, what Si Qi had once offhandedly predicted came true:  

They begged him to analyze their sect’s most guarded divine recipes.  

In the end, Lingxiao Sect obtained treasured formulas they’d once only dreamed of, while the Spirit Taming Sect acquired revolutionary techniques that would redefine alchemy.  

Both sides won beyond their wildest expectations.

This seemingly risky collaboration ended up forging an unprecedented bond of trust between the two sects. If similar opportunities arose in the future, the Spirit Taming Sect would undoubtedly be eager to participate again.  

One day, as Si Qi chatted with the alchemy masters who had practically taken up residence at Lingxiao Sect—or more accurately, by his side—he mused, “Since we’ve optimized the materials and heat control, why not improve the cauldrons next? Maybe change their shape or reduce their size?”  

Such a suggestion, coming from anyone else, would have been dismissed as absurd. But from Si Qi? The masters nodded eagerly. “Fascinating idea!”  

“Let’s try it!”  

A white-bearded elder stroked his chin. “I have connections with the Bloodforge Sect, who specialize in artifact crafting. The cauldrons I use were custom-made by them. Should we consult them?”  

“Artifact forging…” Si Qi’s smile widened in a way only he understood. “I’ve always been interested in that.”  

The moment those words left his mouth, the group suddenly recalled his offhand remark weeks earlier: “I’ve always been interested in alchemy…” The consequences of that “interest” had rewritten the entire cultivation world’s alchemy landscape, with dozens of supreme-grade recipes unveiled in one stroke.  

An inexplicable shiver ran down their spines.  

After notifying the sect leader, the group—with Chu Feng uninvited but ever-present—set off for the Bloodforge Sect.  

Specializing in artifact forging, the Bloodforge Sect naturally relied heavily on fire.  

Spiritual flames, earthly fire, even Samadhi True Fire—any flame could be used for refining. True to their name, however, the Bloodforge Sect’s signature technique utilized “blood.” Not literal blood, but the blood of the earth—  

Magma.  

Also known as earthly fire.  

Arriving at the sect built atop a volcano, where scorching heat radiated like a furnace, Si Qi nearly slipped for the umpteenth time, almost plunging into a cliffside river of molten rock. The alchemy masters broke into a cold sweat despite the blistering environment.  

“Young friend, you’re brilliant—but far too careless,” one elder sighed. “No amount of protective treasures can compensate for such recklessness.”  

“Heh…” Si Qi grinned but didn’t explain. Chu Feng instinctively moved closer, soothingly ruffling his hair—a gesture so unexpectedly tender it stunned the onlookers.  

Si Qi, meanwhile, was delighted by this world’s Chu Feng’s rapid “awakening.” Whether psychological or not, misfortune seemed to lessen whenever they were together.  

Unaware that his “luck” stemmed from Chu Feng secretly channeling his own fortune to offset Si Qi’s abysmal destiny, Si Qi had long attributed it to the world’s favor—accustomed to smooth sailing when blessed with ample World Energy.  

But when a stray sword nearly impaled Si Qi’s throat for the fourth time that day, a Bloodforge disciple—still unfamiliar with Si Qi’s legendary misfortune—blurted out, “Do you have terrible fate luck?”  

Then he immediately regretted it. How could someone guarded by so many powerhouses be unlucky?  

Yet Si Qi nodded cheerfully. “Yep!”  

Everyone froze.  

The alchemy masters, who’d assumed Si Qi was just clumsy, instinctively activated fate-reading techniques. What they saw left them speechless—  

A flicker of fortune so faint it could vanish with a breeze.

Before they could even react, they watched in horror as that faint wisp of fortune—already barely perceptible—uncontrollably dissipated into nothingness.  

Stunned speechless, they could only gape.  

To borrow Xiu Xiu’s snark: Their worldview had just been shattered.  

Though Si Qi couldn’t see what they saw, their expressions told him enough. He shrugged. “Fate means nothing to me. At worst, it gives me a few scrapes.”  

The group stared in disbelief. “You call the dangers you face ‘a few scrapes’?!”  

Had it not been for the protective treasures Chu Feng had lavished on him—automatically deflecting lethal blows and cushioning falls that would’ve dashed his brains on jagged rocks—Si Qi would’ve died countless times over.  

Of course, they didn’t know Si Qi could’ve relied on treasures hoarded across countless worlds even without Chu Feng. To them, Si Qi’s “meager” cultivation made him a porcelain doll lugging gold through a den of thieves—one misstep from shattering, let alone surviving the covetous eyes fixed on his wealth.

Si Qi grinned. “With my Master guarding me, who in this world could take my life?”  

That gave them pause.  

Indeed—if even Immortal Venerable Chu couldn’t protect someone, no one could.  

“Besides,” Si Qi’s tone turned earnest, “what’s cultivation if not defying the heavens? If we resign ourselves to fate, what’s the point of striving?” He spread his hands. “Aren’t I living proof?”  

The group froze, struck by this radical perspective. It was like a bucket of icy enlightenment dumped over their heads—suddenly, the world made sense.  

One elder, his lifelong stagnation shattered by those words, broke through to a higher realm on the spot.  

Spiritual energy swirled violently around him before settling. Exhaling slowly, he bowed deeply to Si Qi. “Thank you, young friend, for dispelling my delusions.”  

Nearby, Chu Feng’s impassive face hid rare turbulence.  

This boy had voiced the creed he’d lived by but never spoken aloud—the belief that had carried him, heaven’s most forsaken, to the pinnacle of power.  

With a few words, Si Qi had smoothed the resentment festering in Chu Feng’s heart.  

His gaze lingered on the boy, resolve crystallizing: He would protect him at all costs.  

If the heavens demanded Si Qi’s life, he’d tear down the sky itself.  

He’d ensure the world witnessed this boy’s brilliance—proof that fate was meaningless against human tenacity.  

Having known his beloved across lifetimes, Si Qi easily read his thoughts. Grinning at the awestruck elders, he shamelessly sang praises—for both himself and his heart’s keeper.

“Ah, what can I say? I’m just naturally brilliant and adorable—no wonder Master took a liking to me, taught me cultivation techniques, and guided me onto the immortal path. Any achievements I have are all thanks to Master’s keen eye for talent. My merits are his merits!”  

“Well said!” Someone nodded in agreement. “Immortal Venerable Chu’s discernment is peerless—he recognized your genius at a glance. Had it been us, we might’ve turned away the moment we saw your fate.”  

The remark made them pause, suddenly recalling Chu Feng’s long-standing disdain for fate-based judgments. They’d been wrong all along. As the cultivation world’s most envied “son of heaven,” Chu Feng knew better than anyone whether fortune had truly shaped his path—or how little it mattered.  

No wonder he’d chosen Si Qi without hesitation, disregarding destiny in favor of his own judgment.  

Otherwise, such a prodigy might’ve been lost to obscurity.  

From now on, whenever they heard someone sigh, “If only I had Immortal Venerable Chu’s luck…” they’d be the first to refute it.  

Si Qi was living proof.  

The topic ended there, and the group refocused on their purpose.  

With Chu Feng’s frequent interventions, Si Qi miraculously arrived unharmed at the “forge”—a cavernous hall where scorching winds laced with embers threatened to knock them back. Surveying the equipment, Si Qi instantly grasped its workings. “Impressive. Using steady geothermal fire for smelting, augmented by flame-control arrays—very scientific.”  

“What’s ‘scientific’?” The alchemy masters, accustomed to Si Qi’s razor-sharp insights, asked eagerly. Meanwhile, the Bloodforge blacksmith—a mountain of a man who looked more warrior than cultivator—narrowed his eyes.  

These were trade secrets, not meant for casual disclosure. That this stranger had dissected their methods so effortlessly put him on guard.  

Noticing his reaction, Si Qi smiled. “Your process relies heavily on volcanic activity. Must be troublesome during dormant periods.”  

“That’s none of your concern,” the blacksmith growled.  

The alchemy masters bristled at his tone, ready to school him on exactly who he was disrespecting—until Si Qi continued, “Ever considered storing thermal energy during peak activity for later use?”  

“You’re spouting nonsense,” the man scoffed. “Earthfire isn’t a physical substance—how could it be stored?”  

“Neither is spiritual energy,” Si Qi countered. “Yet we store that all the time.”  

The blacksmith blinked, momentarily stumped. Something in Si Qi’s certainty made him reconsider. “…Got any ideas?”  

Watching the blunt artisan yield so quickly, the elders beamed like proud parents.  

As Si Qi launched into concepts like “angled boreholes for geothermal tapping”, “steam-powered forging”, and “programmable temperature-controlled cauldrons”, the group exchanged baffled but impressed glances.  

Of course this demonic talent had mastered artifact crafting at first sight—now bantering technicalities with a grandmaster like it was nothing.  

Though half the discussion flew over their heads, the outcome was clear: after thoughtful silence, the blacksmith nodded. “That cauldron you described—I could make it.”  

“Truly?!” The alchemists gaped.  

From Si Qi’s explanation, this “smart cauldron” could autonomously adjust flames—switching between roaring blaze and gentle simmer at precise intervals—with just spirit stones and pre-set arrays. No supervision needed.  

Unthinkable.  

“Feasible, per Young Friend Si Qi’s design,” the blacksmith confirmed. “But the arrays are complex. Beyond our expertise.”

Si Qi’s eyes sparkled with interest. “That’s simple—I’m quite fascinated by arrays myself.”  

The moment these words left his mouth, everyone present froze, then simultaneously shook their heads with wry smiles.  

—  

After this trip, Si Qi had forged solid connections with the Bloodforge Sect’s master craftsmen. The burly blacksmiths grew reluctant to see him leave after placing his order, wishing they could keep him longer for further discussions.  

When Si Qi mentioned needing to consult the cultivation world’s foremost array masters, the Bloodforge cultivators—realizing they couldn’t delay him—reluctantly escorted him out.  

Watching Si Qi stumble yet again mid-step, one couldn’t help but sigh: “Fate truly is unfair. Just recently, I heard of a young cultivator—barely out of seclusion—who stumbled upon millenia-old spirit herbs and artifacts, saved the Creation Sect leader’s only daughter, and became their honored guest after she fell for him at first sight.”  

Another chimed in: “That Zhou fellow, right? Barely twenty, flamboyant as they come.”  

“Not just treasures—rumor says he inherited an ancient powerhouse’s legacy, drawing assassins. Yet he emerged unscathed, even winning reclusive Alchemist Yao’s favor along the way.”  

“Yao? That temperamental old hermit?” someone gasped. “What kind of ancestral karma did he burn for that?”  

“Apparently some offhand remark about Yao’s past struck a chord. The old man laughed, tossed him a storage pouch of treasures, and declared him a kindred spirit. Tch.”  

“That’s just…” The group marveled at the sheer improbability, any single incident being a lifetime’s fortune for ordinary cultivators.  

Listening nearby, Si Qi’s heart chilled.  

Not luck—this was the World’s Son stealing the original owner’s destiny.  

Every “coincidence” was meticulously plagiarized from the original timeline—the exact words that had taken years of friendship to draw from Alchemist Yao, now weaponized as hollow flattery. The romantic subplot? A carbon copy of the original owner’s courtship, mimicking mannerisms to seduce lovers who’d never know their “soulmate” was an impostor.  

Disgusting.  

“Where might this Zhou cultivator be now?” Si Qi inquired casually.  

While he cared little for the stolen opportunities, he’d still thrive without them, letting the original owner’s allies become the Son of the World’s unwitting blades was unacceptable.  

Fortunately, the braggart made tracking easy.  

“The Radiant Azure Sect’s newly discovered secret realm,” someone offered. “Word is he’s heading there.”  

“With his luck? He’ll vacuum up every treasure inside.”  

“Heaven’s darling, that one.”  

Si Qi’s gaze sharpened. Chu Feng, reading him perfectly, stated: “You wish to enter.”  

“What does Master think?” Si Qi grinned up at him.  

“Do as you will.” Chu Feng’s voice held quiet steel. “I am with you.”  

Warmth flooded Si Qi’s chest.  

Even after lifetimes together, such offhand devotion still sent his pulse racing.  

Pressing his lips to suppress a smile, he decided: If this world’s Chu Feng was being so boldly affectionate, perhaps it was time to return the favor.