My Whole Class Isekai'd to a Xianxia? Good Thing I Can Do Mind-reading - Chapter 312

Chapter 312: Refusing Feng Ning
‘Hmph,’ Lai Hu sneered inside Tan Wei’s mind. ‘An old man with barely a sliver of talent in alchemy dares to ask to be my granddisciple? Keep dreaming!’

To Lai Hu, the so-called best alchemist of Red Pole was nothing more than an amateur dabbling in the Alchemy Dao. One could either marvel at how impossibly high Lai Hu’s standards were, or wonder just how embarrassingly low Red Pole’s standards had fallen.

In his eyes, Feng Ning’s achievements didn’t even qualify as the bare minimum. If the man had even a hint of true talent, he would have long reached the level of a tier 9 Alchemy Master. However, clearly, such potential was far beyond Feng Ning’s reach.

Tan Wei smiled bitterly. ‘Master, we’re not in the Immortal Realm. I think Feng Ning’s talent isn’t bad at all. But I’m not ready to take on disciples yet; I’m still at the beginning of my path in the Alchemy Dao.’

He turned to the old man and cupped his hands respectfully. “Senior Feng, I’m honored by your request, but I’m still a junior in the Alchemy Dao. There’s still too much for me to learn, and I fear I wouldn’t be able to guide a disciple properly.”

Feng Ning slowly rose from the ground, letting out a sigh. It felt like a missed opportunity not to be accepted as Tan Wei’s disciple. As for losing face by asking a far younger alchemist to take him in… who cared? Face couldn’t be eaten.

In the cultivation world, strength and skill reigned supreme. Age and status meant little compared to raw ability.

Truth be told, none of the alchemists who witnessed Feng Ning kowtow felt he had done anything shameful. They were simply stunned. Just moments ago, they had looked at Tan Wei with skepticism and disdain. Now, the very alchemist they idolized was bowing before that same young man.

Tan Wei, unfazed by the shift in attitude, extended the jade bottle containing the remaining nineteen pills toward Feng Ning.

“Senior Feng,” he said calmly, “please use these to treat the other injured. I’ll begin concocting a general anti-poison pill for our fighters. It should be effective against most poisons used by the Obsidian Court, or, at the very least, delay their effects long enough for them to return. That will give me time to craft a targeted antidote.”

A general antidote! That was exactly what they had attempted to make before coming here, but their efforts had proven fruitless. Could the young alchemist before them truly succeed where even the best of them had failed?

Tan Wei had already demonstrated his skill, so none dared question his qualifications anymore. Still, a hint of skepticism lingered. The Obsidian Court was infamous for its insidious poisons, many of which defied conventional methods. Crafting a general antidote effective against such toxins was no small feat.

“Yes!” Feng Ning took the jade bottle from Tan Wei’s hand as if it were a divine artifact, then moved swiftly to distribute the pills among the wounded. He prioritized those teetering on the edge of death.

Long Liu watched in silence as the usually dignified Feng Ning carried out the work of a mere apprentice, his expression filled with reverence and urgency. She then turned her gaze to Tan Wei, her eyes soft with appreciation.

Approaching him, she asked, “What herbs do you need… and how many?”

“Azure Vein Root, Verdant Spirit Leaf, Ironheart Thorn, and Netherglow Moss. The more you can gather, the better,” Tan Wei said firmly. “I won’t be able to concoct enough pills for everyone alone, so I’ll need all tier 7 and tier 8 alchemists present. I’ll teach them a simplified method so they can assist in the refinement.”

Long Liu and the other alchemists exchanged puzzled glances. The herbs Tan Wei had listed weren’t rare or ancient treasures; they were surprisingly common. If such ordinary ingredients were all that was required, then mass-producing the antidote should be entirely feasible.

Long Liu arched a brow, then turned to the crowd of alchemists behind her. “You heard the man! Start emptying your pockets!” she ordered without hesitation. She herself might not carry those herbs, but among so many rich alchemists—and with the supplies brought along for the expedition—they’d undoubtedly find more than enough.

Facing Tan Wei again, she nodded. “I’ll handle the organization. Wait for me outside. Give me less than an hour, and I’ll have everything ready.”

She turned and strode out of the tent, her voice already echoing commands to those outside.

Meanwhile, Tan Wei wasted no time. He retrieved a jade slip and began quickly inscribing the process for refining the general antidote pill, simplifying the core steps so that the other alchemists could follow it.

Three days later, Tan Wei and the assembled alchemists had succeeded in producing over one hundred thousand pills. The antidotes were quickly distributed throughout the camp, with priority given to those venturing beyond Feng Fan’s protective barrier to scout enemy movements.

Although there was now more than one pill per person, the alchemists didn’t rest. They continued working tirelessly, understanding that one pill might not be enough. The more they produced, the better their chances of saving lives.

Each day brought new small-scale fights. Scouts returned injured, or didn’t return at all, and the number of casualties steadily increased. In such a perilous environment, these pills were the line between life and death.

—

A team of three scouts from the Red Pole faction moved cautiously through the harsh desert landscape. Leading them was Xiong Yun, a seasoned cultivator at the 2nd stage of the Return To Void realm, accompanied by two others at the 1st stage.

After days of searching, they had finally discovered the Obsidian Court’s encampment. Due to the relentless winds and towering dunes, visibility within the pocket dimension was poor, making scouting a difficult and dangerous task. The vastness of the realm only added to the challenge.

In the distance, rows of dark tents emerged like shadows against the sand. Alarmed by their proximity to the enemy, the trio swiftly retreated. It was the first time any scouting party had located the enemy’s main base—an invaluable piece of intelligence.

As they raced back toward the Red Pole camp, a sharp whistle cut through the air. Xiong Yun’s instincts screamed. He dropped to the ground just in time, narrowly dodging an arrow that still grazed his left arm, slicing through flesh and drawing blood.

“Well, well… look what we’ve got here,” a voice sneered from behind a dune. A man holding a bow stepped into view, a twisted grin on his face. Two more Obsidian Court cultivators flanked him. “A bunch of rats scurrying where they shouldn’t. Good thing we caught you.”

The bowman licked his lips as his eyes locked onto the spreading darkness on Xiong Yun’s wounded arm. “That poison’s already working… I’d say you’ve got a few minutes before that arm rots off. Might as well cut it now, spare yourself the pain.”

He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the idea. To him, the Red Pole cultivators were helpless against the Obsidian Court’s toxins. They were just playthings to torment before the inevitable end.

But Xiong Yun remained calm. Instead of panic, he offered a faint smile.

Without a word, he reached into his space ring, retrieved a small white pill, and swallowed it. Within seconds, the black hue on his wound faded, the sickly color retreating like a shadow before light.

The bowman’s grin faltered. His pupils contracted. “Impossible!”