Chapter 35

The new academy Yue Wuhuan arranged was situated outside the peach grove, a considerable distance from the laboratory. Adjacent to it stood a massive new herb repository, housing the majority of common medicinal herbs from both the mortal and immortal realms, available for apprentices to request and use. However, highly toxic substances and rare medicinal ingredients were stored in the original vault, requiring Yue Wuhuan’s personal approval for retrieval.

Beside the herb repository was the library, now filled with a much larger collection of low-tier immortal texts, basic medical tomes, and miscellaneous books, likely accumulated over the past decade.

Song Qingshi became so engrossed in *Records of Spiritual Fire Anomalies* that he almost forgot to leave.

"All the books here have been carefully selected by me. They pose no significant harm and are suitable for apprentices just starting out," Yue Wuhuan said with a smile, placing the book in Song Qingshi’s arms and gesturing for him to take it. "Though the Master excels in both medicine and poison, all apprentices must undergo several years of training here to assess their temperament and character before they can access precious medicinal herbs or poisons."

Song Qingshi agreed. He was generous in imparting medical knowledge, but he had no desire for his poison techniques to be exploited by ill-intentioned individuals to wreak havoc. Yue Wuhuan’s arrangement for the apprentices to study medicine but not poison perfectly aligned with his philosophy. While poison techniques still needed to be passed down, they would only be taught gradually after rigorous evaluation. Some particularly malevolent poison formulas, he wouldn't even teach to anyone other than Yue Wuhuan.

Yue Wuhuan formed a hand seal, and from the woods emerged a strange figure with vacant eyes and stiff, puppet-like movements.

Song Qingshi glanced at it, realizing it was a corpse. Surprised, he asked, "Did you refine this poison puppet?"

Poison puppets were venomous constructs he had crafted from corpses. Due to the complexity of their control arrays, he hadn’t made many. Each puppet possessed only the combat strength of a Foundation Establishment Cultivator, yet their entire bodies were laced with lethal toxins—a mere touch meant death. Furthermore, upon destruction, they would explode, releasing a venomous blood mist. These puppets served as hidden guardians within Medicine King Valley and were one of his ultimate trump cards.

Otherwise, a place like Medicine King Valley—teeming with rare medicinal ingredients, guarded only by a single Nascent Soul Cultivator and a few Foundation Establishment medicine servants—would have long been plundered by the immortal realm’s bandits.

The poison puppet before him was not one Song Qingshi had refined. Although its toxins remained unchanged, its control array was far more intricate, incorporating numerous mechanisms and hidden weapons, each interlocking to make its attacks even more vicious.

"I found the notes on poison puppet crafting in the Master’s laboratory," Yue Wuhuan explained nervously, fearing his displeasure. "After the Master fell unconscious, the original puppets were damaged beyond repair, leaving Medicine King Valley defenseless. So, I retrieved some intact corpses from the dissection room and attempted to refine new poison puppets. It took many tries before I succeeded. Since the Master’s notes were incomplete, I had to redesign some of the arrays, making them slightly different from the originals."

Song Qingshi recalled his own chaotic, cryptic notes—jotted down haphazardly—and stammered out praise, "You improved them well. How many have you made like this?"

Yue Wuhuan answered obediently, "Sixty-four. Most are deployed within the poison mist arrays, some guard the treasury and laboratory inside the valley, and a few with less intimidating appearances can be carried in a Mustard Seed Bag as portable guards."

Before acquiring the Blood King Vine, he had been severely short of capable assistants, unable to contend with the immortal realm’s cultivators. Thus, he had resorted to unconventional methods, racking his brain for solutions.

Song Qingshi was stunned. He couldn’t help but ask, "The arrays on the poison puppets are incredibly complex—eighty-two in total, each unique, with not a single line drawn incorrectly. How did you…?"

Yue Wuhuan replied, "Once I’ve drawn something, I never make mistakes."

Song Qingshi felt utterly outclassed. Though he had been the one to piece together the various arrays and develop the poison puppets, his hands weren't steady enough. He often made mistakes while drawing the arrays, failing four or five times for every successful puppet. Coupled with his lack of enthusiasm for such work, he had only made about twenty puppets—just enough to get by.

He furtively compared his own clumsy hands to Yue Wuhuan’s dexterous and steady ones…

The disparity between them was staggering. He felt a bit disheartened…

But talismans and arrays required meticulousness and steady hands. Yue Wuhuan would undoubtedly surpass his achievements in the future and become a master.

Thinking this way, he felt happy again.

Over the years, Yue Wuhuan had thoroughly studied the poison puppets. Song Qingshi’s designs, though fearsome in appearance, had been built with safeguards—they wouldn’t easily harm anyone unless provoked with malicious intent.

Yue Wuhuan, however, held no regard for the lives of anyone other than Song Qingshi. His poison puppets were designed solely for killing.

During his years of wandering outside in search of medicine, countless cultivators had fallen to his poison puppets. Fearing Song Qingshi might find him cruel, he had kept this hidden, carefully observing his reactions. Seeing his expression shift several times before finally settling into contentment, Yue Wuhuan finally relaxed.

Song Qingshi showered praise on his little angel: "The student has surpassed the master."

Yue Wuhuan smiled. "The Master flatters me. Without your original poison puppets, I could never have protected Medicine King Valley."

Song Qingshi thought for a moment and asked, "An Long must have suffered greatly at the hands of your poison puppets, right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have failed to break in for two years."

"Venerable An has a long-standing friendship with the Master. After probing the defenses a few times, he discerned the weaknesses in your original puppet designs. So, just as he thought he had successfully cracked them, I replaced them with modified puppets and arrays. Venerable An was poisoned and injured, retreating for half a year before returning. I used the Blood King Vine and the valley’s terrain to set new traps, temporarily repelling him. But he has now fully grasped these attack methods…" Yue Wuhuan said with resignation.

The Ten Thousand Poisons Sect was bellicose, and An Long was its finest warrior. Skilled in all forms of combat, he possessed an animalistic instinct for danger, profound cultivation, and—thanks to Song Qingshi’s teachings—mastery over various poisons. Several traps meant to kill him had been evaded. Against such brute force, careful schemes often crumbled.

Had it not been for Song Qingshi’s habit of documenting everything—leaving behind extensive knowledge on Gu insects in the laboratory—and the heavens’ malice seemingly vanishing after the tribulation, bringing a stroke of good fortune, Yue Wuhuan would have long been slain by An Long.

Song Qingshi reassured him, "An Long is a genius. That you managed to stop him twice is already extraordinary—a feat most Golden Core Cultivators in the immortal realm couldn’t achieve. Now that I’m awake and the misunderstanding is resolved, he won’t attack you anymore."

Yue Wuhuan thought of their past conflicts and smiled gently. "Yes, Venerable An will surely understand me."

Laughing and chatting, the two entered the academy. It was noon, and the apprentices had all gone to the dining hall, giving Song Qingshi the chance to explore.

The academy was a square courtyard, meticulously decorated in Yue Wuhuan’s taste. The main hall was a communal study area with a lectern, bookshelves, and various experimental tools—many crafted by the Heavenly Crafts Workshop, including some Song Qingshi had wanted to commission before his coma but lacked the funds for. The side rooms were individual alchemy chambers, each warded to prevent furnace explosions from harming others.

Looking at the expensive academy, Song Qingshi felt his spirit stone pouch grow lighter.

"Master, we’re no longer short on funds. Medicine King Valley has formed a partnership with the Night Rain Pavilion," Yue Wuhuan explained. "In the past, you developed an ointment for patients with facial disfigurements—one that improved skin texture and erased scars. I added some expensive fragrances and pearls to it, rebranded it as *Jade Beauty Cream*, and sold it at a high price. Besides rapidly healing scars, it also refines and whitens the skin, enhancing beauty. With so many conflicts in the immortal realm, injuries are common, and female cultivators have gone mad for it. Immortal Lord Ye Lin constantly pressures us to increase production…"

Song Qingshi was dumbfounded. He had never made much money selling medicine in his life, yet now he was amassing wealth with skincare products? Something felt off…

"The Master’s condition was critical, requiring vast sums to purchase medicinal ingredients. So, I chose the fastest path to wealth," Yue Wuhuan said, handing him the account books. "Over the years, we’ve spent heavily on medicine and valley renovations. Currently, we have 3.2 million spirit stones remaining."

Song Qingshi had initially felt uneasy, but the sight of that gleaming sum instantly won him over.

If he could refine the *Youth Restoration Pill*, what was *Jade Beauty Cream*? With money, he could continue his research, develop cures, and benefit society—a win-win!

Yue Wuhuan added considerately, "I had the Night Rain Pavilion claim that *Jade Beauty Cream* was an ancient immortal’s formula, not something the Master specifically researched. The porcelain jars are labeled as medicine for scar treatment and skin restoration."

Beauty treatments were still medicine!

Song Qingshi felt his reputation as the Medicine King was preserved. Satisfied, and knowing he had no financial acumen (being prone to squandering), he handed the account books back to Yue Wuhuan. "From now on, you handle the finances. Just give me a monthly stipend."

Yue Wuhuan’s lips curved into a radiant smile, as if he had heard something delightful. "Of course. I’ll buy you anything you want."

Song Qingshi was even more pleased.

After touring the academy, he retracted his Inner Fire and sat properly on the lectern chair.

Yue Wuhuan summoned all the apprentices to offer greetings one by one.

Afraid his nervousness would show, Song Qingshi adopted the stern demeanor of his former university professors. Internally, however, he was astonished—*Who are all these people?*

He hadn’t paid much attention to their appearances back then. Now, he could only recognize Qing Luan and Ming Hong. Qing Luan, unaffected by the Pleasure Seal, retained her looks but had shed her delicate demeanor, now exuding a brisk, no-nonsense aura that reminded him of a senior from his past world.

Ming Hong had grown into a youth. Dressed in red, his style and bearing somewhat resembled Yue Wuhuan’s, though he was quieter and less talkative.

The strapping man who stepped forward next took Song Qingshi a long moment to recognize—he was the sunny youth who had once helped his peers stretch in the training grounds. Now tall, dark, and muscular, his former beauty was barely discernible beneath his rugged features.

Qing Luan explained with a smile, "This is He Qingyun. He focuses on herb cultivation now and often works in the fields, hence his appearance."

He Qingyun scratched his head sheepishly. "I figured looking like this would keep perverts from ogling me. I used to be a farmer—good with plants and nothing else. The Master saved my life, so I had to repay him. Even if a mortal’s cultivation is limited, I can still tend to the Master’s medicinal gardens."

Song Qingshi nodded approvingly, resolving to boost them all to Foundation Establishment with medicine later.

Then, behind the crowd, he spotted an exceptionally handsome youth of seventeen or eighteen, with alluring peach-blossom eyes and an air of indolent grace. Unnoticed, he stifled a yawn and fiddled with something in his hands.

Song Qingshi felt like he’d caught a troublemaker fooling around at the back of the class. Unable to maintain his stern expression, he chuckled and beckoned the boy forward.

Qing Luan shot the youth a glare and introduced him. "This is Rong Ye, from the same batch as Ming Hong. He’s had an easy life and is the most mischievous, but his hands are deft. Please don’t be angry, Master—I’ll discipline him properly."

Remembering Qing Luan’s usual scoldings, Rong Ye hesitated before reluctantly stepping forward and surrendering his toy.

Song Qingshi sensed Qing Luan’s hidden praise—she shielded these children who had suffered similar hardships and didn’t wish to punish them.

Smiling, he accepted the item from Rong Ye and examined it closely. It was a handcrafted sand timer, exquisitely made. He flipped it onto the table and, drawing on his alchemy experience, timed the sand's flow at roughly one minute.

Qing Luan explained, "Rong Ye is careless and can't get the timing right during alchemy, so he made this to assist him."

Rong Ye protested, "Sister Qing Luan, ever since I started using this, I haven’t made a single timing mistake. Stop harping on that one mistake!"

Qing Luan scolded, "Quiet! Many people fail, but you’re the only one who blew up the furnace!"

Rong Ye muttered, "I just wanted to experiment with adding cinnabar..."

"You’ve got skilled hands—this is well-crafted," Song Qingshi said, recalling his own professors' attitudes and attempting to offer positive encouragement. "For beginners in alchemy, the hardest things to control are heat and timing. Using tools to manage timing is smart, but it shouldn’t be relied on long-term. I think we could commission the Heavenly Crafts Workshop to produce a batch of timing instruments to assist in alchemy."

Yue Wuhuan smiled, "The Master is absolutely right. The alchemy workshop should indeed be equipped with timing instruments."

Qing Luan shot Rong Ye another glare. While timing instruments could help with low-level alchemy, high-level alchemy demands intuition and experience—how could one rigidly stick to a fixed method? If Rong Ye kept relying on such shortcuts, he’d never become a true alchemist, only just a glorified technician.

Rong Ye was young, handsome, and sweet-tongued, so everyone usually indulged him, spoiling him rotten and inflating his ego.

She’d definitely make sure to knock some sense into him later!

Unwilling to scold the apprentices further, Song Qingshi returned the hourglass to Rong Ye and smiled at him again. "Keep working hard."

Rong Ye flushed under his gaze, ears burning. Before coming to Medicine King Valley, he’d often heard Sister Qing Luan speak of Medicine King Immortal as a formidable figure in the immortal realm, whose power was so great that he effortlessly turned that monster Xie Que into mincemeat. But since Qing Luan handled all the arrangements afterward, he’d never actually seen Medicine King Immortal’s face. He’d imagined a fierce and terrifying cultivator, but instead, he was met with someone so strikingly handsome, seemingly not much older than them, with an exceptionally gentle and kind demeanor—nothing intimidating at all.

Since Medicine King Immortal liked Immortal Master Wu Huan so much, he’s into guys, huh...?

He’d heard that in the immortal realm, some mortals climbed the ranks by sucking up to cultivators.

Was Immortal Master Wu Huan one of them?

Rong Ye stole a glance at Song Qingshi, then at Yue Wuhuan standing respectfully behind him, his mind wandering into very inappropriate places.

...

Author’s Note:

The author’s irresponsible little commentary on the protagonists:

Yue Wuhuan: A murderous, batshit-crazy schemer, but he’s still a cinnamon roll.

Song Qingshi: Real men hand over the wallet first, then talk.