Teacher by day, Farmer by passion-Chapter 173 - . (NEW!)

The sun had slowly begun set by the time Ace returned to his apartment. Shadow s pooled along the cobbled streets, and the last traces of twilight clung weakly to the sky.

He walked into the quiet building, move d past the main chamber, and made his way towards the adjacent room, the alchemy room.

As he pushed open the door, the familiar scent of dried herbs and faint medicinal smoke greeted him like an old friend.

Rows of tightly sealed jade bottles lined the walls, each glimmering softly under the gentle glow of a suspended spirit lamp.

In the center of the room stood a black cauldron, its surface etched with faint, ancient runes that shimmered as if it was breathing.

Ace stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him.

Next he walked towards where the drawers were at.

His fingers brushed along labeled drawers, reading each sorting names before pulling out a few ingredients from them: Bloodroot, Moonpetal, and Star Anise Vine.

"This should do," he muttered, setting them neatly on a nearby table.

The injuries from the inn explosion had mostly healed, outwardly. But as he lifted his shirt, he revealed a bruise-like stain beneath his ribs. His eyes narrowed.

A black dragon tattoo, coiled and faintly pulsing, had etched itself onto his skin. He had dismissed it before, thinking it was going to disappear soon as the person who inflicted it had died.

But recently, the pain had begun to pulse with rhythm, like something alive.

Occasionally, the tattoo even moved.

Tsk. He clicked his tongue when he thought about it.

His gaze flicked back to the cauldron, the was no time to really hesitate at this point.

The pain had been gradually growing, day by day.

He opened the lid and sat cross-legged before it.

What he was preparing to concoct, it was blood pill, a forbidden and forgotten pill.

The Blood Pill—infamous for its subtle cruelty. A pill scorned, yet used for blood puppetry.

It boosted a cultivator's blood potency, nudged their healing and elemental control ever so slightly. In theory, it offered power and monstrous healing ability.

In truth, it offered death in disguise.

The effect was negligible, unless taken in excess. But once that line was crossed, the user was lost. Pill poison seeped into their veins, warping their meridians, unraveling their qi, until their very blood betrayed them. A slow death, cloaked in strength.

"Well, I can always refine a purification pill to remove the pill poison, it's better than hosting an unknown insignia in one's body."

He muttered.

At his command, flames ignited beneath it, a deep, controlled blue, steady as moonlight.

His hands formed a seal.

The cauldron hummed. Its inner walls glowed as heat spread, and his spiritual sense dived into the fire, controlling it with surgical precision.

First, the Moonpetal was dropped in.

Thin and silvery, it shimmered with a faint glow. As it melted, it released a cool mist, soft and ethereal.

Its purpose was balance, to temper the violent pulse of the pill's blood-based core. Ace gently guided the mist into the forming mixture, weaving it like silk through steam.

Next came the Star Anise Vine.

Coiled and thorned, even after plucking. He cracked it open with his palms, and dark sap oozed out, hissing into the cauldron.

A stimulant. It surged through the concoction, heightening blood circulation, sharpening vitality and dangerously destabilizing the brew.

The fire started to

flicker while sparks burst at the edges.

Ace's fingers twitched. The flames drew inward, folding like a lung pulling breath. The chaos vanished.

Finally, Bloodpetal.

Thick, deep crimson leaves. Still wet with morning dew.

As they dissolved into the mixture, the cauldron's contents shifted from silver-blue to a pulsing red. The aroma grew stronger: sweet and metallic, like blood mixed with sugar.

Ace opened his eyes.

He raised one hand, guiding the now-lustrous liquid into a spiral.

Condensation.

The room stilled. Slowly, the thick essence gathered at the center. He compressed it, coaxed it, shaped it.

One pill. Then another. And another.

Eight in total.

Eight dark red pills, each one gleaming like fresh-forged rubies.

High-grade Blood Pills.

There was no joy in his expression. Only a quiet nod. "Refinement complete."

With a final gesture, the pills cooled and rolled neatly into a jade bottle. Ace sealed it.

He held it up to the light. The crimson pills glowed faintly, their sheen like congealed blood under moonlight.

"High-grade," he murmured, uncorking the bottle. "Don't let me down. I need this to heal."

He brought one pill to his nose, inhaling the sharp, iron-rich scent, like a blade poised at skin.

A pause.

Then, without fanfare, he popped it into his mouth.

* * *

Meanwhile…

Somewhere deep in the woods, a young man sprinted between trees, his breath ragged and body bloodied. Behind him, a colossal bear thundered in pursuit, crushing roots and snapping branches with each furious step.

But the young man didn't glance back. His eyes burned with resolve, and his steps were agile

Just as the bear lunged with a roar, he darted sideways and leapt off-course, vanishing into dense underbrush.

The beast charged past, directionless.

Moments later, the young man emerged into a small clearing where a corpse lay sprawled beneath a fallen tree.

He knelt beside it, eyes narrowing.

The skull was cracked. Bones brittle.

"Already decayed… but this should do."

He placed a single hand on the skull. His lips moved in a quiet chant.

"Dragons are above, and greed far below…

Give this Black Dragon the power once bestowed."

The moment the last syllable left his lips, the skeletal remains disintegrated into dust.

"Hmm, still not enough."

He stood, brushing his hand off on his tattered robes. His eyes scanned the remains, then the surrounding ground.

"Another Flying Sword Sect member.." He glanced at the corpse. "Strange. What happened here? And why didn't they try to retrieve the bodies."

Turning, he vanished into the shadows, heading deeper into the forest, where the air grew colder, the trees older, and something ancient waited in silence.