Qiu Zu: From an apprentice in a medicine shop to an immortal ancestor.

In the pleasant third month of spring, a gentle breeze stirred.

“Bang!” “Bang!” “Bang!”

A flock of brightly colored birds, startled by the sound, burst from the bushes on the hillside in a flurry of flapping wings, their frightened eyes searching for the source.

At the foot of the hill, houses stood shoulder to shoulder, forming about a dozen courtyards, with banners bearing the character "药" (Yao - Medicine) fluttering in the wind.

People bustled in and out of the courtyards, creating a lively and prosperous scene.

In one courtyard, a young man raised a stone pestle, striking the yellowish-brown clods of earth on the chopping board with resounding thuds.

The source of the commotion that scattered the birds earlier was none other than him.

The young man appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen years old, with delicate features and a pair of sleepy phoenix eyes. His smile was gentle and refined. He wore a coarse, faded blue short coat, cinched at the waist with a cloth belt, trousers on his lower body, leggings wrapped around his shins, and a pair of sturdy, earth-stained boots. His skin was the color of ripe wheat, indicating that he was a child of the soil who had enjoyed plenty of sun and rain.

“Bang!” “Bang!”

Under the constant pounding, the clods of earth quickly broke down into smaller pieces.

Qiu Zhen did not stop. He switched from pounding to grinding, turning each small clod into fine powder.

This substance was called "Fulonggan" (伏龙肝).

The name sounded intimidating, but it was actually just hearth soil – the yellowish-brown clods from the bottom of a stove that burned wood or grass. By scraping off the blackened parts and impurities with a knife, one could obtain this substance.

After about fifteen minutes, Qiu Zhen had crushed and ground a dozen or so "yellowish-brown clods" into powder, filling the pottery jar on the chopping board to the brim. Only then did he stop, satisfied, and enter the medicine workshop next to him.

Inside the workshop, a bustling scene unfolded. A group of pharmacy apprentices, dressed similarly to Qiu Zhen, were each busy around an iron pot, smoke rising and firelight flickering, as if summer had arrived early.

Qiu Zhen made his way to his "workstation" with practiced ease.

It was an iron pot filled with boiling water.

He ladled out the hot water, letting the steam evaporate, and then poured some of the "Fulonggan" from the pottery jar into the pot. He heated and stirred it until the soil was slightly warm, driving off some of the volatile components. Then, he grabbed a handful of "white peony root" from a medicine basket next to the pot and threw it into the hot soil, constantly stirring and tossing it with an iron spatula in one smooth motion.

Before long,

the “white peony root” in the pot was fried until the surface turned a slightly reddish-yellow, and a unique, fragrant aroma of roasted white peony root filled the air.

“The heat is perfect.”

Qiu Zhen smiled with satisfaction.

White peony root has a sour and slightly bitter taste, and its nature is slightly cold, which can harm the body's vitality.

Fulonggan is warm in nature, formed by the earth's fire energy. Roasting it with soil improved the cold and sour nature of the white peony root, and also harnessed the soil's ability to drain wood energy, greatly enhancing its medicinal effect.

This was the "soil-roasting" method in herbal medicine processing.

As an apprentice at the Qingmu Pharmacy, which was under the jurisdiction of "Medicine King Valley", Qiu Zhen spent his days dealing with various herbs, processing them. Practice made perfect, and he was incredibly efficient at his work.

After one pot of "soil-roasted white peony root" was finished, he did not rest. He continued to change the soil and add herbs, processing white peony root and Chinese angelica in the same way.

As the sun set and the evening glow filled the sky, it was unknowingly evening.

Qiu Zhen couldn't help but stretch.

In front of him, five large bamboo baskets were filled to the brim with various processed medicinal materials, sorted into different categories.

His task for the day was complete.

“Brother Zhen, your herb-processing skills are getting better and better.”

As Qiu Zhen stretched and relaxed, two pharmacy apprentices, dressed similarly to him and of similar age, walked up to him.

One of them, skinny and dark, with a pointed mouth and monkey-like cheeks, stared at the medicinal materials in the basket in front of him, clicking his tongue in admiration:

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, the quality of these medicinal materials, the heat control, you won't find anything better in the entire Qingmu Town.”

As soon as one person finished speaking, the other, who was of average build but had an unusually large head, a round face, and a simple and honest appearance, immediately chimed in:

“Who says otherwise? Brother Zhen's roasting skills are even better than the master craftsmen in the city.”

“What master craftsman am I? People will laugh if you say that!”

Qiu Zhen shook his head.

One of them was called Shen Liang, nicknamed Skinny Monkey, and the other was called Zhao Dou, nicknamed Big Head. The three of them were from the same village, their villages not far from each other. They had entered the pharmacy as apprentices together three years ago, and they naturally felt close and gathered together, their relationship extremely good.

The two of them were older than Qiu Zhen. Skinny Monkey was half a year older, and Big Head was more than a year older.

Perhaps it was because he had lived two lives and understood the mysteries of his birth, or perhaps it was because his herb-processing skills had improved by leaps and bounds over the past three years, allowing him to stand out among the pharmacy apprentices and rise in status very quickly.

After three years of getting along, the two of them had unconsciously started calling him "Brother Zhen".

Speaking of which, there was a lot to be said about processing medicinal herbs.

It could be roughly divided into processing without water or fire, processing with water, processing with fire, and processing with both water and fire.

Processing without water or fire, and processing with water, were relatively simple, mostly involving rough and laborious tasks such as picking, splitting, knocking, scraping, washing, and soaking.

Fire-processing and water-fire co-processing were different, focusing on heat control, pharmacology, preservation of properties, and so on. There was a lot to learn.

Qiu Zhen had been in the pharmacy for three years, studying hard and mastering all the processing methods.

He had mastered the processing methods of many common herbs, and it would not be an exaggeration to say that his heat control was superb, his attainments extraordinary.

As they spoke, the apprentices who were busy in the workshop also heard the conversation between the three of them, became interested, and joined in.

“Skinny Monkey and Big Head are right. Brother Zhen is a true processing master. I don't admire anyone else, I only admire Brother Zhen.”

“I admire him too. The medicinal materials processed by Brother Zhen are top-notch. Even our Manager Kang is usually very polite to Brother Zhen.”

“Brother Zhen has real skills, so Manager Kang is naturally polite. We're in trouble, though. I heard that Manager Kang has been in a bad mood lately and has a bad temper. It'll probably be difficult when we hand in our work.”

“Did Manager Kang go to play dice again? Then we have to be more careful with our work lately.”

“Hehe~ Everyone, be careful.”

Qiu Zhen did not respond much to the praise and criticism of the crowd. He laughed it off and left the workshop with the medicinal materials he had processed, putting them away in the medicine cabinet.

About fifteen minutes later, he left the Qingmu Pharmacy, hurrying towards Xiangyang Village, which was five or six miles outside the city.

Three months ago, he had moved out of the apprentice dormitory of the Qingmu Pharmacy and rented a small courtyard in Xiangyang Village.

These days, whenever he finished work, he would rush back as soon as possible.

“Processing master...”

On the official road, Qiu Zhen sighed inwardly.

In the art of processing medicinal herbs, he was indeed quite skilled, and he had his own insights into pharmacology and the preservation of medicinal properties, integrating them together.

For example, the "soil-roasting" method he used to process medicinal herbs just now. The pharmacy master taught him to use the "eastern wall soil" from the sunny walls for processing, but he changed it to "Fulonggan", which had been calcined by long-term intense fire. It had fewer impurities, and the earth's fire energy was purer, making the medicinal effect of the processed herbs better.

Like this, he had his own insights into the processing of various medicinal materials, and he could be called a "master".

But...

What was the use!

It didn't change his current situation at all.

He was still a pharmacy apprentice, and those who worked were still those who worked. He didn't know how long it would take to become a manager or a resident doctor.

Moreover, his ambition was not here.

His heart yearned for a wider world.

Legend has it that in the depths of some large swamps, there were dragons coiled, and in the high altitudes of the forbidden land, there were giant beasts with bodies of several miles traversing the sky, covering the sun and the sky. There were human martial saints who split peaks with their knives, the energy of their knives stretching for several miles.

With Qiu Zhen's current vision, there was no way to verify the authenticity of the "miracle legends".

However, he had personally witnessed the shocking scene of the powerful martial artist of the pharmacy splitting a giant granite rock with his palm, the gravel splashing and the pottery jars cracking.

He came from the countryside to Qingmu Town to be a pharmacy apprentice in order to find an opportunity to step into that wider world.

After three years of hard work, he had grown from a child to a teenager, had the ability to support himself, and had finally encountered the opportunity he had dreamed of.

The sun was gradually setting, and the evening glow was burning.

On the ridge of the field, a figure strode with light steps towards the village with rising smoke not far away.

A new book has been opened.