The Young Master released his grip on Lingyu’s hand, though he had to grab hold of her shoulders as the Young Miss collapsed against him. One of the foreign Disciples appeared before them in an instant, glaring meaningfully at Feng before he passed Lingyu over to her.

  “That was excessive,” the bodyguard admonished him as she looked over her Mistress’s wounds. The Young Miss sighed.

  “Be at ease, Senior Sister Jin. It’s nothing worse than what I usually get when I spar with Senior Sister Shao.”

  “Senior Sister Shao is a barbarian who has no restraint!” The other guard – Sister Shao, he presumed – looked offended at Sister Jin’s words. “I would have thought the Young Master of the Beheaded Phoenix Sect would have better sensibilities – especially so given he was sparring with his future Sister-in-law! – but clearly, I was mistaken.”

  “I apologise for making you worry, Sister Jin,” Feng said, bowing slightly. “But I would not insult the Young Miss by coddling her so.”

  Lingyu waved her broken hand nonchalantly at him, before wincing as the movement worsened her injury. “Don’t mind her too much. Senior Sister Jin has always been like this. And honestly, Senior Sister, I wouldn’t behave like this if you would stop choosing easy opponents for me back in the Split-headed Carnivore Sect. The ones you picked always held back.”

  Blood continued to seep from her wounds, but already the sanguine rush had slowed to a dribble. Her flesh moved like it had a mind of its own, knitting her wounds together and forcing her shattered bones back in place. Even the burnt patches of skin and hair on her face had already been shed off, with new ones being rapidly grown as replacements.

  It would still take her about an hour for all signs of her wounds to disappear, however. Feng knelt beside her, reaching into his robe to pull out a gleaming elixir flask.

  Lingyu frowned at the sight, even as her eyes locked greedily onto the container. “There’s no need for that. These wounds are minor. I will heal from them soon.”

  The hollowed bamboo flask he held contained no mere Spirit Wine. It was an Elixir of Joyful Rejuvenation. Unlike the medicinal pills Feng gave up to the mortal elderly earlier, this was no mere cheap medicine to be handed out recklessly. The concoction held a volatile mix of liquefied qi-infused opioids, synthesised with some of the most efficacious therapeutic agents and narcotic extracts known to the alchemists around the Four Mountain Sects Group. The contents would easily kill a mortal if drank, although at least their deaths would be one of blissful and rapturous delight.

  Aside from its potent and immediate healing capabilities, the elixir was also known to give cultivators a heady rush of euphoria and energy. Those traits made it widely popular among the Inner and Core Disciples – for those who could afford it, at least — as a provisional measure for treating wounds between duels. This allowed the option for those battle-hungry disciples to continue fighting after sustaining serious injuries, rather than wait out their bodies’ lengthy recovery time or undergo expensive medical treatment to expedite the process.

  “Think of it as a reward,” Feng said. “You did well in the fight.”

  “Well or not, why should anyone receive a reward for losing a duel?” Lingyu scoffed. “I didn’t even draw a single drop of blood from you.”

  “I think being brave enough to challenge a disciple whose standing is a full realm higher than yours deserves a reward. Not many would be brave enough to do so, even against someone who they know will hold back. And I did not hold back, despite what you might think.” Feng shrugged. “Besides, I dislike seeing you hurt. As for my blood…”

  The Young Master reached up and forcefully pulled the prehensile tongue still attached to his cheek. The serrated teeth ripped free from his hardened skin, taking with them the smallest drop of blood.

  “I would say this qualifies.”

  “That hardly counts,” Lingyu grumbled, before snatching the Elixir — and the tongue — away from his hands. “But fine. I can see you won’t relent on this. This Young Miss thanks the Young Master for his generosity.”

  Feng grinned. “Anything for my favourite Sister-in-law.”

  The foreign Disciples carried the Young Miss to a safe corner. Hei Feng followed them, sitting beside Lingyu in a secluded alcove where the rest of the injured Disciples of the sparring hall were tended to by medical acolytes. As the Young Miss took careful sips from the Elixir, Feng went over her performance.

  “The Young Miss is not a fool, so the reason for her loss should already be obvious. Where was the first mistake?”

  Lingyu glared at him, amber eyes furrowed while her lips were turned halfway between a pout and a scowl. The sight was rather adorable if Feng was to be honest. In any case, he was not asking the Young Miss these questions merely to annoy her. This was not the first time the two had sparred, and in his experience, having Lingyu point out her mistakes would help her learn better. The discomfort was nothing compared to the benefits she gained.

  Under his insistent look, the Young Miss sighed. “That’s easy. It was when I first forced you to fight me at all.”

  Feng was in the Tempering Realm. Lingyu was in the Shaping Realm. The result of a fight between them was clear from the start.

  The Young Master nodded. “Perhaps you might feel that something that obvious does not bear mentioning, but it’s important that you realise this. Any situation where you have manoeuvred yourself into fighting an opponent a full Realm higher than you is a situation where you have already lost. It is to be avoided at all costs.”

  The transformation techniques of the Split-headed Carnivores Sect were immensely powerful, granting their practitioners not only enhanced physical capabilities but also natural weapons such as claws, fangs, and even abnormal mutations like the tail Lingyu used in their earlier fight. The manifestation of these features varied among Disciples: some developed extra beast-like appendages, others could spit acid or breathe fire, and in rare cases, wings could even emerge. Whichever the boon, these traits significantly boosted a Disciple’s combat abilities, enabling them to contend with opponents beyond their cultivation standing.

  But only until a certain limit, of course. Even the great mutations that the transformation grants cannot overcome the wide gulf between an entire Realm of advancement. Moreover, the technique was not without its weaknesses.

  “Was there any way I could have won?” The Young Miss asked after a moment.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “You already did everything right. Given the difference in our levels, it would have been a mistake to preserve your strength. Expending every ounce of your stamina to secure a quick and decisive victory right from the onset of the fight was the correct move.”

  Maintaining a transformation — even just a partial metamorphosis like the one Lingyu used — was incredibly taxing on the Disciple’s stamina and qi balance. While their elevated combat abilities were considerable in this state, should they not be prudent in their expenditure of spiritual energy, they could see themselves becoming rapidly exhausted halfway through their duel, as Lingyu had suffered earlier. Those moments of critical vulnerability, as they catch their breath and stabilise their qi, could easily spell their end.

  Naturally, the opposite was true as well. Should a Disciple fully commit to their transformation right from the start, they could overwhelm their opponents with their superior strength before the stamina drain takes hold. Such strategies have seen many of the Split-headed Carnivores Disciples defeat opponents of higher cultivations than themselves before, although most will admit such tactics were always a gamble.

  “And yet I still lost.” Lingyu took a sip from her Elixir, sighing in bliss as a slight flush overtook her face and neck. The wounds on her body were almost entirely gone, leaving away fading scars and the pink hue of fresh skin. Even her burnt hair had been pushed out by new follicles, and soon recovered to its previous length and lustre.

  “The increased aggression leaves you too vulnerable after your attacks. Not only are you forced to commit fully to the strikes, but your opponent’s reflexes were simply too much for your transformation to overcome. An entire Realm of cultivation difference is too much,” Feng lectured. “The only way you could have secured a victory would be due to a mistake on my part, rather than any other improvement on your end. Like I said, victory was a losing gamble the moment you sought this fight.”

  For Split-headed Carnivores in the lower Realms who have just started learning how to manipulate their qi, maintaining their partial forms for more than a few seconds at a time was the most they could accomplish before the technique started to tax their qi stability. They must learn to use their abilities sparingly, only manifesting the more demanding mutations to dish out decisive blows or to catch opponents off-guard.

  In this case, Lingyu had performed perfectly. She had only utilised her tail and poisonous hand stinger — easily the most powerful and costly transformations in her arsenal — to strike deceptively and land what she must have hoped were conclusive attacks. If Feng had been a little slower or unluckier, there was a chance she could have disoriented him enough to follow up with a series of finishing hits and clinch a narrow victory.

  “You speak of losing this fight like it held any consequence of sorts, Brother-in-law,” Lingyu said dismissively. “As you have said earlier, nothing was risked and lost except for pride.”

  Feng looked pointedly at her, who still bore the healing signs of her earlier wounds.

  The Young Miss understood his point, but rolled her eyes all the same. “What kind of cultivator shies from pain?”

  “You miss the point. Granted, perhaps there was little for you to lose in the fight, but what do you even stand to gain? By all accounts, it was a pointless battle.”

  “Perhaps I simply wished to spend time with you, then.” The words slipped out from her. Lingyu blushed, before covering her face with a groan. “I mean, ugh… You spend all your time with Lianshi now, whenever we visit each other. It used to be the three of us together, now it’s just you two.”

  “Oh.” The Young Master was not sure of what to say to that. “That’s… It’s not like that, Lingyu. We didn't mean to neglect you.”

  “It's fine, I understand.” Lingyu waved off his concern in embarrassment. “Your marriage soon approaches. And truth be told, I shouldn't have intruded between the two of you during all those visits in the past anyway. You were engaged the entire time, and I kept pushing myself into you and my sister’s company. It must have been annoying.”

  “I'm glad you did, Lingyu. Our time together was all the better for it. I believe Lianshi agrees with me as well.”

  Lingyu sighed. “It’s stupid. I was just lonely, I guess.”

  Another thunderous explosion shook through the chamber. More bodies were brought into the chamber. The sound of screams and blades slicing through flesh and bones intensified. Feng stood up.

  “We will be family soon, Little Sister. No matter what happens or how you may feel, know that Lianshi and I will always be there for you. We care too much to just toss you aside, even if we are married. I know that you believe that.”

  Lingyu looked away. Just as Feng stood and began walking towards the arena again, he heard her faintly mumble: “Do you promise?”

  He stopped and turned back to her inquisitively. “What?”

  “I—!” Lingyu flushed. Apparently, she hadn’t thought he would hear her over the sound of the battle echoing in the training hall. She stared at the ground, unable to look at him. “Do you promise? T-that you would still care for me, even after you and Lianshi are married?”

  Wasn’t that what he just said? Perhaps she just wanted some assurance. He replied with as much sincerity as he could muster, hoping he could alleviate her concern.

  “Yes, I promise. I would not abandon you for any reason, Lingyu.”

  “G-good.” For some reason, she blushed even harder, but there was a small smile on her face too. “In that case, I will hold you to that promise in a few years, then.”

  He was puzzled by her words, but there was no time to ponder any more. He had already been sidetracked long enough from his main task. Elder Jun wasn’t going to wait forever, and he still wanted to greet Brother Dai first. He nodded goodbye to the Young Miss.

  “I will see you later, Sister.” He paused. “And thank you. For earlier.”

  She blinked at him. “What?”

  “When you said you would help me, even if I were no one important.” He smiled. “It made me happy.”

  He returned to the main chamber of the training hall. The air was thick with the smell of burnt blood and seared flesh. Feng felt his mouth water, but held back his hunger from distracting him.

  His Senior Brother was at the top, still pummelling the other Core Disciples from taking his place at the apex of the arena. It was time for Feng to go up there and teach that brute a lesson.

  Alchemy, Part 2

  Medicinal pills and restorative draughts are the most common Alchemical products that exist within the Flesh-Grafted Empire. With how often Sect Disciples get injured, and given the myriad of dangers that lurk even within Imperial territory, medicines are one of the most widely produced, distributed, and consumed goods in the Empire.

  Any reputable monastery would have an Apothecary on hand which labours tirelessly to synthesise healing concoctions. Markets of renown always feature stalls selling curative salves and potions, while merchants of standing are always equipped with pill cases filled with restorative boluses, ready to make an opportunistic offer of relief to desperate or injured passers-by.

  Not all medicines are made equal, however. The enormous size of the Empire — and consequently, the astronomically great variety in resources and ingredients available for each producer — means there is an exceedingly large range of medicine being circulated in the treatment market. Renowned Pill-Makers, Sect Apothecaries, and even small-time village herbalists all produce and sell their own unique formulas of locally crafted remedies.

  With such a large variety of viable combinations flooding the market, it is almost impossible to tell which treatment is most effective, as each Sect undoubtedly boast its variant as the superior option. Conversely, any medicinal formula that manages to make itself well-known despite the sea of competitors is often touted to be the best available within the land.

  Within the Northern-most Outer Provinces of the Flesh-Grafted Empire, there exists an Alchemist of such renown that their formulas are known to a hundred Sect apothecaries. Most famous of their recipes is the Elixir of Joyful Rejuvenation, a potion that is not only relatively cheap to mass-produce — thanks to its unique feature of requiring only widely available ingredients to craft — but also boasts outstanding healing properties. It is also incredibly addictive to drink, which made its popularity soar among Sect Disciples once they had a taste of it.

  – Extract from An Introduction to the Imperial Pharmacopoeia