Be Gentle, Immortal Master

Chapter 115 - Best Master
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I stared at the blades in the dim light, too many questions bubbling in my head. How did this vision reach me? What did it mean to my bonding with Twin Stars? And … who was this girl?

Everyone at Mount Hua knew that Bai Ye had never taken a disciple until me. When I heard the girl call him "master" in the vision, I had thought for a moment that she might be Su Nian, but then I realized that it shouldn't be possible. Without a formal master's ceremony, even Su Nian wouldn't be entitled to address him like this.

Though of course, Bai Ye had never been keen on formalities. He could've simply made an exception for her when there was no one else around. Or this could be a vision from before he came to Mount Hua …

I shook my head. It didn't matter. Whoever this girl was, as long as she was no longer around him, then it was none of my concern. If anything, I felt lucky that I had met Bai Ye at a better time than either her or Su Nian. He had always been nothing but kind and indulging to me, and I'd admit shamelessly that I liked it that way.

I cleared those thoughts out of my mind and resumed the meditation, paying no more heed to the crimson light pulsing on Twin Stars.

~ ~

When I made sure that I had memorized every step of the technique perfectly, I made my way back to my room, only to find that Bai Ye was standing at my door waiting for me.

He smiled at my approach. "Did you just come back from meditation?" he asked. "Any more visions recently?"

I didn't want to bother him with the details about the girl—after the distraction related to Su Nian for the past few days, I didn't need to bring up more topics for him to explain and reassure me—so I smiled as well and said simply, "None until today, actually. But nothing nearly as striking as last time. You were just shining your sword."

He gave me a somewhat dubious look. "Twin Stars bothered to show you something that boring?"

I chuckled. "I would happily watch you shine your sword all day. What were you waiting for me for?"

I stepped into my room, and he followed behind me. "I was thinking about showing you how to make medicinal pills instead of potions. It might be … convenient for the trip."

My steps halted. I hadn't even thought about this myself. Brewing potions would be complicated to say the least while we were away, and if I couldn't make them …

Heat crept up my cheeks. "You should've taught me this a long time ago anyway," I mumbled. "Making pills is a basic skill for medicinemen among commoners, isn't it?"

He laughed. "If I taught you everything already, Qing-er, you would have no need of me soon." He strode into the kitchen and gestured for me to follow. "I will write down the recipe for you later—potions and pills call for different ratios of ingredients, and we'll have to substitute certain herbs that don't work as well dry. But for now, we can start with any ground herbs just to show you the process."

I nodded and fetched a jar of already minced dry licorice. He rubbed a pinch of it between his fingers to check its texture. "A little finer will make it easier on your stomach," he said. I was about to sit down at the table with the grinding bowl when he added, "I'll do it. Boil a small pot of honey, that step is more important for you to learn."

No other masters would grind herbs themselves for their disciples, I thought as I handed the jar to him. Bai Ye was always too easy on me.

"Use a two to three ratio between ground herbs and honey," he continued as he sat down and started working on the powder. "Bring it to a boil on high heat first, then simmer until the foam turns orange. You can test if it's ready with a stick. The syrup should feel tacky, but not enough to pull. If you drop a spoonful into cold water, it should form a smooth lump instead of breaking apart."

I repeated every word to myself and made sure I remembered them. Easy as it sounded, getting the right temperature and consistency was key in medicine, and it always took a lot of practice to make things perfect.

I made a fire and readied a pot. The sound of his skilled hands pounding the herbs accompanied me while I prepared the honey, and as we worked together in peaceful silence, the memory of those early years when he first taught me how to brew potions rushed through my mind. I remembered the way he held my hand and showed me everything step by step: how to grind herbs into the right fineness, how to brew them with the right heat, how to use my spiritual power to strengthen their potency …

I darted a furtive glance at him. Years had passed since then, but he was still teaching me just as patiently as he always did. I was lucky indeed that he was no longer the cold, easily irritated man he was in the vision.

"Feel this texture," he suddenly turned around, catching my gaze. I looked away hastily, a little embarrassed that he saw me distracted again, but he only smiled and made no comments. He let me feel the consistency of the new powder and showed me how to use my spiritual power to enhance its effect. When the syrup was ready, we poured it into the herb bowl, little by little while stirring and kneading the mixture to form the paste for the pills.

Our fingers touched as he helped me work the dough, the heat of his skin sending waves of warmth into my heart.. For a moment, I felt thankful for that vision for reminding me of what I had almost taken for granted these days—I did have the best master in this world.

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