I Was the Sun Before I Became an Immortal

Wang Yan's kitchen had, at this moment, unmistakably become his alchemy — or rather, his "cooking alchemy" — chamber.

His expression was solemn, as though he were performing a sacred ritual.

On the stovetop, the large iron wok the family had used for years — slick with seasoning and polished to a mirror shine — had been scrubbed until it could reflect his anxious face back at him.

He recalled the [Four Essentials of Cooking Alchemy] that Master Si Chen had imparted, murmuring the words under his breath:

"The wok is the foundation of the Dao!"

On the cutting board, several sets of the lowest-grade materials he had purchased with nearly every last Spirit Stone he owned were already laid out in neat rows.

Then, with a raise of his hand and a fall of the blade, he julienned, blanched, and flash-fried the ingredients — his movements surprisingly practiced and proper.

"Fire is the soul of the pill!"

He then circulated his Foundation Establishment spiritual power, guiding a thread of faint but steady spirit fire, carefully heating the bottom of the wok with not a shred of carelessness.

"The toss is the rhythm of the technique!"

He drew a deep breath, dropped the ingredients into the wok, recalled the tossing motions he had observed in the back kitchen of a restaurant, and gave his wrist a flick — beginning to stir-fry, trying to ensure the ingredients heated evenly throughout the wok.

In theory, this should promote the fusion of medicinal properties and complete the purification.

But theory is one thing, and reality is another.

Sizzle——

The spirit herbs in the wok rapidly curled and blackened, sending up a plume of acrid smoke reeking of char. In no time at all, the originally jade-green leaves had become a pot of black cinders stuck to the bottom.

First attempt: a declared failure.

Wang Yan stood there dumbfounded, staring at the charred remains in the wok, utterly bewildered.

"It's fine. Master said he burned the wok at first too."

He quickly rallied himself, cleaned the wok, and prepared for a second attempt.

However, over the days that followed, Wang Yan's life sank into a cycle of despair.

Failure. Reflection. Failure again.

He thought it was the wok's fault, so he gritted his teeth, spent some of the Spirit Stones Master had given him, and bought a fine wok supposedly forged from "hundred-refined iron."

He tried again. Failure.

He thought it was a problem with his heat control, so he practiced controlling his spirit fire without sleep or rest, draining the spiritual power in his body again and again until his face turned pale and his head swam.

He tried again. Still failure.

He thought he hadn't mastered the "rhythm of the toss," so he practiced the stir-frying motion against thin air until his arms ached so badly he could barely lift them.

He tried again. Failure once more.

With every failure, he recited the words ever more devoutly in his heart: "Intent is the guide; divine will shapes the pill!"

Yet the ingredients in the wok continued to transform, mercilessly, into clumps of scorched black waste.

After dozens of failures, the small kitchen was thick with smoke and in complete disarray. Wang Yan's face was smeared with soot, and the burning intensity in his eyes had slowly given way to confusion.

A crushing sense of dejection poured over him like ice water.

Even in his hardest days as a waiter, no matter how difficult life had been, he had never once doubted his own abilities — but today, he wavered.

He stared at the scorched black residue covering the floor. All of it had been bought with the Spirit Stones Master had given him — Spirit Stones meant for his Cultivation. His heart bled.

"Why… why can't I do it?"

He slumped to the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Master clearly succeeded — he even cooked out a Nascent Condensing Pill… the method must be right…"

"…The problem must be with me."

"Could it be that I, Wang Yan, truly have not a single shred of talent for 'cooking alchemy'? Were all my bold words just a joke in Master's eyes?"

The overwhelming sense of defeat left him barely able to straighten his back.

He didn't dare go see Si Chen anymore, afraid of catching even the faintest trace of disappointment in his master's eyes.

He even began to wonder whether Master taking him on as a disciple had been a mistake.

* * *

In stark contrast to Wang Yan's ordeal of fire and water, Si Chen's small courtyard remained a picture of tranquil, unhurried peace.

Si Chen lay comfortably on his recliner. Heishan was crunching away at some unnamed spirit fruit beside him; Chifeng dozed by the ornamental rockery; and Red Bean had nestled herself on Si Chen's chest, curling into a warm little ball of fluff.

"Brother, that kid actually believed your nonsense and went off to try cooking alchemy."

Heishan spat out a pit and said gruffly, "If you ask me, there's no such path as 'cooking alchemy' in this world. Alchemy is alchemy, and cooking is cooking — how can the two be lumped together?"

Si Chen was idly stroking Red Bean's feathers. "I didn't know before either, but now that I've cooked a pill out, it proves the path exists."

Heishan hadn't witnessed Si Chen's feat of "cooking alchemy" the last time, so he simply didn't buy any of it.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure. Keep stringing that foolish kid along."

Si Chen thought for a moment, then said with conviction, "Since the path exists, no matter how dim he is, can he really fail to cook out even a single pill?"

* * *

Back in Wang Yan's kitchen, the young man sat on the floor in dejection, on the verge of giving up.

He stared at the last remaining set of materials, his heart unwilling to let go. "This is the last batch… If this fails too, I… what face do I have left to show Master?"

With the reckless abandon of someone who had nothing left to lose, he mechanically lit the fire, added the ingredients, and began to stir-fry.

Exhausted in body and spirit, his mind was paradoxically less tense than before, and his movements had grown more casual.

It was then that, in a daze, he mistook a section of green onion sitting on the edge of the stovetop — meant for cooking dinner — for a spirit herb, and absentmindedly chopped it up and tossed it into the wok.

After dozens of failures, his movements had, without him realizing it, become practiced and fluid.

The timing of adding ingredients, the control of the heat, the force of the toss — everything fell into place just right.

Only this time, the wok contained one extra "seasoning" that had no business being there.

He closed the lid, slid down against the stovetop, and buried his face deep in his knees.

He even laughed at himself inwardly — he really was hopelessly stupid, having let Master down. No, what right did he even have to call that person "Master" anymore?

Just as his Dao Heart teetered on the edge of collapse, his conviction on the verge of shattering entirely…

A faint glow suddenly lit up inside the wok… and an aroma unlike any he had ever smelled before began to drift through the air.

Wang Yan jolted in shock, then scrambled to lift the lid……

Three round, plump pills — ordinary in appearance but undeniably fully formed — lay quietly at the bottom of the wok. They were "Qi-Restoring Pills"!

He froze completely.

After a long moment, he reached out with trembling hands and carefully cradled the three pills. Their surfaces bore a faint golden-brown tinge, like the mark of slightly too-high heat when cooking, but the Spiritual Energy contained within them was unmistakable.

"I… I did it? I really did it?"

A surge of overwhelming joy instantly swept away every last trace of dejection. He held the three pills as though they were the most precious things in the world, and tears poured from his eyes beyond his control.

"Hahaha! I… I did it — cooking alchemy! Master, I did it!!"

In his excitement, he popped one of the pills straight into his mouth.

The pill dissolved the moment it touched his tongue, and a stream of pure Spiritual Energy swiftly replenished his depleted reserves.

Only…

"Why does it taste so strange?" He smacked his lips. The Spiritual Energy had been restored, alright — but what was with this overwhelming flavor of green onion?

But none of that mattered! What mattered was that he had succeeded! He leaped and bounced around the kitchen like a child.

In this moment, in Danding City…

No, across the entire continent…

No — in the entire history of pills in the Cultivation World, a brand-new pill had risen like a blazing star!

— The Scallion-Fragrance Qi-Restoring Pill!