A market alchemist could turn a pot of broth into pills in an hour. Add chalk or bone glue, let it set, and call the lumps medicine. Up to seventy percent of the result was filler, and the waste stayed in the body.
The Heavenly Nine-Turn Foundation Pill allowed nothing of the kind. Thirty gallons of dragon blood and twelve pounds of marrow had taken up the five old herbs. The Earth-Stalactite Silt had steadied the mix, and the Flood Dragon’s dissolved core had put its stored qi into all five currents. Pei Jing had three days to reduce the remaining broth to one percent of its volume at the start of this final stage and form three clean cores without a binder.
He was still by the cauldron when the seventh day began. He sat before Gui’s bronze cauldron with his hands above the control valves. The liquid inside had the thickness of melted honey. Five colors shone through the sixteen mica windows.
Pei Jing started the first turn. He sent qi through the lower vents and drew the liquid up the walls at sixty turns a minute. The heavier part of the Frost-Lotus moved away from the lighter essence of the ginseng.
