Chapter Nineteen: A Brief Explanation of Formations

Fang Zhong was an old physician who had been with Dragon Overlord for many years; he could be considered highly senior. Cui Overlord’s recent actions left his heart chilled, as he thought Cui Overlord deemed him too old and was seeking someone to replace him. Disheartened, Fang Zhong hunched his shoulders and made his way slowly towards his wooden hut.

Fang Zhong’s steps were unhurried, which suited Lei Yan just fine, as his body was still frail. Along the way, Lei Yan noticed that everyone they met greeted Fang Zhong with great respect, and in their eyes Lei Yan caught a glimmer of reverence. He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly, “It seems Fang Zhong holds quite a position here in Dragon Overlord.”

Soon enough, Lei Yan followed Fang Zhong into a courtyard. Two rows of wooden huts faced each other, making up the compound; a quick glance revealed six or seven huts in this row alone. Fang Zhong led the way to the first hut, which resembled a consultation room. The room was sparsely furnished: a single desk stood to the right of the door, and a shelf was set beside it.

Fang Zhong sat cross-legged behind the desk, picked up a slim booklet, and handed it to Lei Yan. “Since you’re with me now, you need to study diligently. Let’s start with identifying herbs.”

Lei Yan accepted the booklet and flipped through it casually. It described only the most basic medicinal plants—information as simple to him as basic arithmetic. He had mastered such knowledge as a child. He smiled and handed the booklet back. “Physician Fang, I think you may have misunderstood. I know herbs very well. There’s no need for me to read this.”

“Oh?” Fang Zhong eyed Lei Yan anew. “Very well, since you claim familiarity, let me test you.”

“Go ahead,” Lei Yan said, gesturing.

“We’ll start with something simple. Describe the properties of licorice root.” Fang Zhong decided to begin with the basics.

Lei Yan smiled, answering easily, “Licorice root, also known as sweet root or red licorice, has a cylindrical rhizome with bud marks on its surface and a pith in the center of the cross-section. Its scent is mild, taste sweet and distinctive. For chills and sore throat, use two ounces of licorice root roasted with honey water, add two pints of water, and simmer down to one and a half. Take half a cup each time, twice daily—this is known as Licorice Decoction. For sore throat due to lung heat, use two ounces of roasted licorice, one ounce of balloon flower soaked overnight in rice water, add half a pound of donkey-hide gelatin. Take five qian per dose, decoct in water…”

“That’s enough. Try another—sage.” Fang Zhong, inwardly astounded, realized that although Lei Yan’s description of licorice wasn’t exhaustive, his knowledge of prescriptions showed a deep understanding of medicine.

“Sage, also called European su, is a perennial herb growing in clumps. Its leaves are opposite, oval, gray-green, with a textured surface and a pungent aroma. For carbuncles and sores, finely chop sage root, mix with lard, and apply to the affected area. For dysentery, grind sage flowers to powder, take one qian per dose with water…”

Another one…

And another…

Fang Zhong grew increasingly alarmed. Some questions he himself couldn’t recall clearly and had to consult his books, yet Lei Yan answered each with ease, describing properties and basic prescriptions without hesitation.

“You… you…” The expression on Fang Zhong’s face shifted from surprise to shock. After a long moment, he collected himself, unwillingly flicked his sleeve, and said, “Since you’re so skilled, I’ll leave things here to you from now on!”

“Physician Fang, don’t be upset. I’m not here to take your place, but to support you. To put it boldly, there are only a handful of people in the world who surpass me in medicine. Does that still make you think I’m here to replace you?” Lei Yan said confidently.

It’s said that age brings wisdom—Fang Zhong quickly understood. If Lei Yan were seeking only a livelihood, with his skills he’d want for nothing wherever he went. He must have a reason for coming to Dragon Overlord, though what it was, Fang Zhong couldn’t be bothered to guess; everyone who entered Dragon Overlord had their own motives. With this, he finally felt at ease. The status of a physician here was second only to Cui Overlord—being able to keep his place was certainly a relief. “Lei, what are you really after?”

“I mean I’ll only handle what you can’t. Just let me know when you need me; you’re free to arrange things as you wish,” Lei Yan replied.

“Alright, let’s leave it at that!” Fang Zhong was in high spirits. According to Lei Yan, he would only gain more respect here in the future.

“Is there a quiet place around here? I’ll be coming by daily,” Lei Yan asked.

“It’s usually very quiet here—only when Cui Overlord returns from an outing does it get noisy, since there are always injuries. If you want to rest, the rooms to the right as you exit are all empty except the last, which is used to store books taken during raids,” Fang Zhong said.

“Books from raids?” Lei Yan was curious.

“Yes. Sometimes they find manuals on the dead and bring them back. Over time, there must be a hundred or so in that room, though none seem useful or they wouldn’t have been left there,” Fang Zhong replied.

“Very well, I’ll spend my time there,” Lei Yan smiled. “Physician Fang, if there’s nothing else, I’ll return tomorrow.”

Seeing Fang Zhong nod, Lei Yan took his leave and, relying on memory, returned to his room. As he entered, he saw Qing Ling sitting on the bed, lost in thought. Not wanting to disturb her, Lei Yan tiptoed to a clean spot and sat down.

“Why was Cold Second the only one not poisoned? Does he have an antidote? Impossible!” Lei Yan mused. Now that things had settled, he finally had time to ponder these questions. He remembered that during the poisoning at the mound, only Cold Second had escaped.

Suddenly, inspiration struck—he realized that Cold Second had been fighting at the time and must have used his innate internal energy to block the poison. This discovery greatly surprised Lei Yan. Although he knew such energy could resist toxins, he was reluctant to accept it, as poison was his reliable safeguard. Having failed once, he could not allow it to happen again—he had to find a solution.

No matter how swift or subtle his technique, if an innate master used their energy, poison would fail. What could he do? Suddenly, Lei Yan recalled the third realm of the Pharmacopoeia: everything can be used as medicine. If anything could become a drug, defenses would be useless.

He had once thought of using internal energy or true essence to alter the properties of substances but couldn’t test it without such power. Now he had it.

Lei Yan searched around for materials to experiment with. His movement caught Qing Ling’s attention. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m looking for some discarded things for an experiment,” Lei Yan replied with a smile.

“What kind of experiment?” Qing Ling asked, curious.

“It’s related to what we learned in the Medical and Poison Codex. I’m not sure it will work, but if it does, I’ll teach you everything I know,” Lei Yan said.

“Oh.” Qing Ling nodded and simply watched as Lei Yan busied himself.

Soon, Lei Yan gathered some wood chips, small lumps of earth, and a few sheets of thin paper. He picked up a lump of earth, held it before him, and channeled his internal energy. “Puff!” The earth disintegrated into powder, dust flying everywhere, instantly coating his face.

“Ha ha ha!” Qing Ling burst into laughter at his mishap. She found it unexpectedly entertaining to watch Lei Yan’s experiments.

“Ptooey! Ptooey! Ptooey!” Lei Yan spat dirt from his mouth, muttering, “Too much force! Try again!”

“Puff!” Another failure, with the same result—his face covered in dirt, and Qing Ling laughing even harder.

“Too little force this time! Again!”

Failure.

And again.

Time passed swiftly; the whole day slipped by. Lei Yan lost count of his failures. His face went from dirty to covered in wood splinters, then to scratches. In the end, he was battered and bruised, and began to think of giving up. Meanwhile, Qing Ling was laughing to the point of tears.

Listening to her laughter, Lei Yan picked up another wood chip. This time, he calmed his mind and carefully channeled his energy into it, but it failed once more. Yet this time, he understood how to infuse internal energy into an object—a skill in itself. A thrown knife, for instance, might carry only a few pounds of force, but with energy, it could weigh a thousand.

Lei Yan swayed with exhaustion. After a whole day’s effort, he was on the verge of collapse. Reluctantly, he took out the Great Rejuvenation Pill from his demon artifact. It was a powerful tonic, but he had only one and had been loath to use it. Yet now, if he didn’t, he doubted he could even make it out the door.

He chewed and swallowed the pill. The moment it entered his stomach, a surging torrent of power rose from his dantian, raging through his body like a storm. Lei Yan immediately guided it with his will along his meridians. With each complete circuit, his color improved; after eighty-one cycles, his cheeks glowed, his body brimmed with strength, and his twelve main and eight extraordinary meridians all cleared. In an instant, his cultivation rose to the innate realm.

“The effect of the Great Rejuvenation Pill is truly remarkable!” After stretching, Lei Yan took out the Flower Demon and fed it a drop of his blood essence. This time, he felt so vigorous that even that made no difference. Seeing Qing Ling already asleep, Lei Yan tucked a cloak around her, smiled, and slipped outside.

He made his way to the pharmacy, where Fang Zhong sat alone in the courtyard, poring over a booklet. Seeing Lei Yan, Fang Zhong was startled—yesterday Lei Yan had looked sickly, but today he was the picture of health. Lei Yan greeted him with a smile and entered the last room.

The room was thick with dust; a box stood in one corner, long untouched, cobwebs in its corners and a few rotting books on top.

Lei Yan approached, brushed off the dust, and flipped through the books one by one, tossing each aside. They were all elementary martial manuals, useless to him. He opened the box; to his surprise, the books inside were in better shape than expected. He’d thought the long neglect and dampness would have ruined them, but though yellowed, they were intact.

He leafed through them but found nothing of value. With a wry smile, he thought, “How could there be any real treasures here?” Suddenly, his gaze fixed on a thick, thread-bound book at the bottom of the box, about a foot thick and almost hidden. Pushing aside the other books, he revealed four large characters—“A Brief Explanation of Arrays.”