Surviving In A Martial Arts World To Become A Saint

Chen Qing passed through the familiar corridor, and the simple wooden door of the rear courtyard appeared before him.

The door was tightly closed, but the faint medicinal fragrance drifting out set his heart at ease.

He stood still, straightened his clothing, and maintained the proper respect, "Master Li, this disciple has returned."

The courtyard fell silent for a moment.

Then, with a "creak," the wooden door opened inward on its own without anyone touching it.

Chen Qing stepped inside.

The small courtyard's scenery remained unchanged, as if time had stopped here.

That enormous pill furnace still occupied the courtyard's central position. Earth fire burned steadily beneath the furnace, its body dark red, emanating a heart-palpitating warmth.

From the gaps in the furnace lid, wisps of indescribable misty qi occasionally escaped, neither fragrant nor foul, yet invigorating to one's spirit.