Chapter 153 — The Staircase in the Tower

CHAPTER 153

The Staircase in the Tower

The certification staircase had shallow steps and no pressure formation.

Shi Feng appreciated that. Enough people waited below it without the tower inventing a second tournament for alchemists carrying their own furnaces.

He reached the examination landing shortly after sunrise. Wen An checked the receipt and directed him to the third room, where a middle-aged examiner was arranging three sealed trays beside a clean furnace base.

“Zheng Hui,” the examiner said. “I'll observe your practical work today.”

“Shi Feng,” Shi Feng replied.

Zheng Hui wore a one-Mark badge. His early Golden Core cultivation supported a calm, steady presence, and the tools on his desk were arranged for use rather than display.

He checked Shi Feng's registration and measured his current realm through the standard verification plate. Mid Foundation Establishment met the minimum requirement. The plate recorded nothing about hidden meridian counts or foundation grades.

“Clear Spring Pill,” Zheng Hui said. “Tell me what the finished medicine serves.”

“Restoring qi for Golden Core cultivators after sustained expenditure,” Shi Feng replied. “It doesn't repair a cracked core or replace proper treatment for injured channels.”

Zheng Hui nodded.

“Then make one that does what you claim,” Zheng Hui said.

They opened the ingredient trays together.

Shi Feng checked each herb for age, moisture and damage. One root had a thicker centre than the examples he had bought in Great Liang. The leaf beside it retained slightly less water than yesterday's practice material.

He adjusted the cuts accordingly.

Zheng Hui watched without speaking. The examination allowed preparation time because preparation was part of making medicine, not a courtesy before the important part.

Shi Feng weighed the dried portions, laid the tools where he could reach them and tested the furnace's air inlet.

He remembered Li Changyuan examining the puppet return channel. One found fault didn't mean the next fault had vanished.

The inlet was clean. The base sat level. He began.

A thin flame grew beneath the furnace. Mid Foundation Establishment qi carried it steadily through the first heating stage, allowing him to preserve the leaf's gentler essence while the harder root softened in the separate preparation cup.

He had known the proper temperature for months.

His hands had only recently become reliable enough to hold it without correcting every few breaths.

That difference mattered now.

The first medicine stream gathered at the furnace centre. Shi Feng fed in the root essence slowly, letting the heat join them without scorching the lighter leaf.

Mo Tianheng's remembered experience showed him the expected colour and density. His own eyes checked what was actually in front of him.

The thicker root required a longer joining turn.

He gave it one.

Zheng Hui made a small mark on his sheet.

Sweat formed at Shi Feng's temple, mostly from the furnace heat. His qi expenditure remained manageable. He hadn't suddenly become capable of every Golden Core recipe merely because this one held together.

Clear Spring Pill used a direct sequence with few violent conflicts between ingredients. He had chosen it because he had trained it, because the ingredients were available, and because its demands fit his present control.

A stronger formula could still outrun his hands or his cultivation.

This one didn't.

He closed the upper vent by a finger's width and began the difficult turn.

The joined essence tried to spread as the temperature fell.

Shi Feng had lost two practice batches at exactly that point. Once, he'd held the flame too strongly and dried the outside before the centre settled. The second time, he'd cooled too fast and let the medicinal streams separate.

He recognized the beginning of the second mistake now.

His wrist paused. Instead of forcing the whole mass inward, he gave the weaker edge a small supporting thread of qi and reduced the air from below.

The spread stopped.

A pale bead formed above the furnace floor.

Zheng Hui leaned forward slightly. He could see the correction, and he could see that it belonged to the candidate rather than a lucky collapse into shape.

Shi Feng held the bead steady through three slow breaths.

Then a hairline tremor crossed it.

Too much support at the edge.

He released the extra thread before it could draw the medicine off centre. The bead settled again, smaller and denser.

His fingers had done what his mind asked.

That simple fact pleased him more than the badge waiting somewhere in the tower.

The furnace timer rang softly.

Shi Feng didn't lift the lid at once. The final settling period remained part of the process, and opening too soon would waste the work already completed.

Zheng Hui checked the timer and let him continue.

Outside the room, footsteps passed along the landing. Someone in the next examination chamber cursed, then apologized to an examiner. A furnace lid clanged against stone.

Shi Feng kept his attention on the quiet bead inside his own furnace.

When the surface stopped shifting, he reduced the last heat and waited for the pill to cool enough to handle.

Only then did he lift the lid.

One pale pill rested in the cup.

It had no spectacular light and sent no medicinal cloud through the roof. Its importance lay in the stable essence contained inside it.

Shi Feng placed the cup before Zheng Hui.

The examiner smelled the medicine, checked its weight and cut a tiny sample from the edge with a clean blade.

He placed the sample on an assay plate. Three shallow channels carried the released qi into separate measuring stones. The first confirmed the formula's character. The second showed the retained potency. The third tested whether the joined medicine stayed stable as it was released.

Shi Feng watched the last stone.

It brightened evenly.

Zheng Hui looked at the record he had made during the cooling turn.

“Your correction was timely,” Zheng Hui said. “It also cost some final yield.”

“I held the outer edge too long,” Shi Feng replied.

“Yes,” Zheng Hui said. “You noticed before the medicine split.”

He wrote the measured result beside the practical notes and turned the sheet toward Shi Feng.

The pill existed. It was stable. It served the realm the formula claimed to serve.

Now the tower would decide whether the entire performance met its standard.