The sect manuals called for incense, a favorable hour, and a prayer to the ancestors before lighting a cauldron. Pei Jing opened his inventory book. Let the heat fall five degrees and the old herbs might hold on to their essence. Let it rise ten and a day’s work could burn away in three heartbeats. He started by checking what he had.
Six sealed clay carboys held thirty gallons of dragon blood. It could take more heat than water before it boiled, which gave the old herbs time to soften and release their qi.
He laid out the five kinds of herbs, each at least three hundred years old. Fourteen ounces of red Fire-Stem Ginseng for Fire. Twelve Frost-Lotus seeds, four and six tenths of an ounce, for Metal. Nine and two tenths of an ounce of Earth-Core Fungus for Earth. Eleven ounces of tough Iron-Root Vine for Wood. The marked mature root of Purple-Veined Dragon-Whisker Grass, weighing eight and four tenths of an ounce, for Water. The last one would bind the dragon’s qi to the human dantian.
Twelve cold-jade flasks held twelve pounds of clean spinal marrow. That was the heart of the Heavenly Nine-Turn Foundation Pill. He measured six ounces of Earth-Stalactite Silt from his sealed supply. It still held enough of the old milk’s qi to help the marrow soften. The padded casket held the Flood Dragon’s core. He’d add it after the marrow and herbs could take its full charge.
