Chapter 19: Chapter Eighteen: The Immortal-Filling Pill (Seeking Collection)

“Father, that land god just now seemed to be in terrible condition...” Xiao Yu said cautiously.

Worse than terrible—he later broke with Qingsong the Daoist acolyte and got struck by lightning.

That must have been Qingsong’s Daoist technique.

He was already in awful shape, then got backfired by dragon qi, and got hit by that sneaky little acolyte’s thunder spell—died right on the spot.

The land god who knew her past best died the moment he appeared—this was a huge blessing for her!

But she didn’t know how much that bastard knew, or how much he’d written into the “Sha Man Yu file” and handed over to Qingsong.

“Zou Qing is dead. Forget him. Never speak of him to anyone.”

Guan Huachen casually warned her, then activated his Thousand-Mile Eye again—his eyes shot out three-zhang golden light, sweeping in all directions as he turned his head.

Even Xiao Yu, huddled under her fire-woven cloak, felt the world suddenly blaze bright—as if a two-kilowatt spotlight were spinning right before her eyes.

She immediately pulled back the cloak, seeing for the first time the supreme divine art of this world—the Thousand-Mile Eye technique!

As she met the three-zhang golden light from Huachen’s eyes, her soul-sea’s “Great Annihilation Dad” stirred again; her “Purple Mansion” seemed to receive mysterious data, and the progress of “Annihilation Technique Against Thousand-Mile Eye” surged forward.

The Purple Mansion’s calculations for the “Great Annihilation Dad” method weren’t sourced entirely from Xiao Yu—but she had to supply a certain base amount of data.

Think of it like using AI to generate art.

The more detailed your textual description, the more accurate the AI’s image becomes.

The text input, however, isn’t the sole reason the image turns out as it does.

The AI has its own vast database—entirely unrelated to the text description.

The Purple Mansion’s derivation of the “Great Annihilation Dad” method also has a mysterious, incredibly wondrous “big data” repository.

For example, yesterday when she killed Ge Qing, the Qi-Controlling Great Expert, Xiao Yu knew nothing about Gangqi, yet her Purple Mansion instantly completed the "Annihilation Technique Against Qi-Controlling Great Expert Ge Qing."

The data Xiao Yu provided at the time was merely her own sensory perception of Ge Qing’s Gangqi.

What she saw, heard, and felt—all were data.

After becoming Huachen’s adopted daughter, the conditions for activating “Great Annihilation Dad” were met; the Purple Mansion became like a “Heavenly Dao computer,” immediately beginning to derive a technique Xiao Yu could personally execute—sufficient to kill “Thousand-Mile Eye Huachen.”

But Xiao Yu had never seen the “immortal’s eye,” never experienced it—could provide zero data—so the Purple Mansion’s derivation stalled, progress crawling.

Yet the Purple Mansion required energy—her mental strength, physical stamina, and spiritual power.

High-intensity operation of the Purple Mansion felt like continuously solving college entrance math problems—she couldn’t sustain it long.

Solving one college entrance math paper made you tired, yet with a quiet satisfaction (if you were good at math); two papers left you dizzy, mentally drained, doubled agony (exhausted, yet making too many mistakes, scoring poorly); three or four papers? Your brain’s CPU would fry.

So after barely holding on, Xiao Yu paused the derivation of the “Annihilation Technique Against Thousand-Mile Eye Huachen.”

Now, seeing Huachen use the Thousand-Mile Eye up close, facing the golden light directly, vast amounts of data about the technique flooded into the Purple Mansion—its derivation speed skyrocketed.

When derivation sped up, her mind felt like playing a game—games tire you too, but the sense of flow outweighed fatigue; the duration of that exhilarating state far outlasted solving math problems.

“Found them.”

With a “whoosh,” the three-zhang golden light retracted into Huachen’s eyes.

“Father, what are you looking for?” Xiao Yu asked curiously.

“Night’s coming. We must rendezvous with the Iron Cavalry Camp.”

Huachen casually spoke, then released the reins and lightly spurred Chiyan.

“Iron Cavalry Camp...” Xiao Yu’s expression turned strange.

Earlier, Huachen had galloped wildly, leaving the armored cavalry far behind, yet confidently claimed they wouldn’t get separated... she’d been puzzled, even wondered if the Shu cavalry had some special communication method.

Turns out they were just running blindly—each going their own way.

But as long as they weren’t more than a thousand li apart, opening the Thousand-Mile Eye instantly located them.

It wasn’t the Iron Cavalry Camp searching for Huachen—it was Huachen using his “immortal’s eye” to find them, then chasing them down with his divine steed’s unmatched speed.

That bastard’s show was exhausting.

Chiyan was exhausted.

When Chiyan caught up with the Iron Cavalry Camp, the sun was sinking low, the moon rising.

Black-armored knights had cordoned off a patch of land behind a hill, lighting seven or eight bonfires—some boiled water in copper kettles, others roasted wild game they’d hunted on the road.

Seeing Huachen ride in on Chiyan, they showed no surprise.

They rose naturally, saluted, then returned to their bonfires to chat.

Huachen activated his Thousand-Mile Eye again, scanning every direction, confirming no mountain spirits or wild demons lurked nearby, then dismounted from Chiyan.

For dinner, Xiao Yu received only one brown pill.

About the size of a Chaoshan beef ball, similarly colored—taste... faintly beefy, but mostly bean and sesame aroma.

“This is the Immortal-Filling Pill. One pill keeps an ordinary person full for three days; a strong warrior can go a full day without hunger.” Seeing her inspecting the pill, Huachen bit into a succulent roasted deer leg, mumbling his explanation.

Xiao Yu glanced at the roasted deer leg and golden wine cup before him, then scanned the black-armored knights around the fire.

Only thirty-odd knights received meat; everyone else, like her, got only one “Immortal-Filling Pill.”

Oh, they’d even given two pills to the horses.

The knights had shot down plenty of game on the road, but they were on the move, not hunting—shot arrows at prey only if convenient.

If they missed, the prey escaped—they didn’t break formation to chase.

The entire cavalry unit numbered over two hundred—there simply wasn’t enough meat to go around.

Actually, Xiao Yu preferred the Immortal-Filling Pill over roasted meat... at least today, seeing this rare item for the first time, she was eager to try it.

Hmm, taste... no taste.

Like Zhu Bajie swallowing the Ginseng Fruit—it slid straight down his throat.

It wasn’t that Xiao Yu didn’t want to chew—it was Huachen who specifically warned her not to.

If chewed, the flavor became overpowering, nearly impossible to swallow.

Even if forced down, half its effect vanished—instead of lasting three days, it only held hunger for one.

Xiao Yu closed her eyes, calmed her mind, and carefully felt the pill’s effect.

Moments later, she opened her eyes, her gaze filled with unmistakable disappointment.

Though its name carried “Immortal,” and its effect sounded mythical, no special “immortal qi” arose after swallowing.

Like its name—“Filling Pill”—the moment it slid into her stomach, hunger vanished.

But there was no post-meal satisfaction.

“Auntie Xiao...”

A timid call interrupted Xiao Yu’s study of the Immortal-Filling Pill.

Following the voice, she saw Danzi bound tightly with ropes, limbs tied, dumped on the ground like a sack of rags.

Beside Danzi lay another sack of rags—Song Changqing, covered in yellow mud.

They were far from the fire, dimly lit, hard to see clearly.

“Danzi, still feeling unwell?”

Xiao Yu walked over, helped him sit up, but didn’t untie the ropes—only loosened them slightly.

“Auntie Xiao, my stomach hurts.”

Xiao Yu reached out to rub his belly.

“Not there—higher up.”

It wasn’t his stomach—it was his chest, his heart!

After rubbing awhile, Danzi groaned, still uncomfortable—but not rubbing seemed worse.

“Auntie Xiao, I’m hungry...”

Xiao Yu turned to look at Huachen.

Huachen was wolfing down meat, sipping wine—too little wine.

“Danzi, wait a bit.” Xiao Yu kept holding him, rubbing his chest.

Only after Huachen finished eating, belched, and tucked away his blue-jeweled golden wine flask did she tiptoe over, picking through his leftovers to find a few bones.

With the short sword he’d given her, she scraped off every scrap of meat and tendon, then cracked the bones with the blade’s spine so Danzi could suck out the marrow.

She barely managed to get him through dinner.

The next morning, Song Changqing handed Xiao Yu one Immortal-Filling Pill, telling her to feed it to Danzi.

He’d been right beside her the night before, covered in mud, yet fully awake—he’d seen everything she’d done for Danzi.

At dawn, no knight brought food for Danzi; Xiao Yu was just pouring water down his throat!

“General Song, are you feeling better?”

Only now did Xiao Yu notice Song Changqing’s yellow mud had vanished.

The mud had already hardened into clumps the night before, but the dragon qi backlash was too ominous—the knights instinctively avoided him; only at dawn did he struggle to clean himself.

“Once the mud dries, it’s just ordinary dirt,” Song Changqing said.

Xiao Yu was curious about what exactly he’d experienced, what he’d seen—but dragon qi was a sensitive topic for her; she couldn’t bring it up.

Eight days later, the heavy cavalry camp finally crossed over three thousand li of wasteland and desert, arriving at Shu’s northernmost stronghold—Hengsha Pass.

Such a march would be pure legend in ancient times.

Even modern armored units couldn’t achieve such an absurd feat.

The Lu Ye Guard’s Iron Cavalry weren’t ordinary cavalry—they were mostly heavy cavalry, both men and horses armored.

They had no space rings; during the march, they wore their iron armor constantly—even slept in it.

Only the Immortal-Filling Pill could explain it.

Humans ate it, horses chewed it—tiny pills kept warriors full for a full day, energized, strength unchanged.

One light cavalryman’s load could supply the entire camp’s needs.

According to the information Xiao Yu gathered over the past few days, the Immortal Hunger-Relieving Pill is a byproduct of Qin scholars’ research into fasting pills.

The term “Immortal” refers to cultivators who pursue the Dao and wield mysterious arcane arts.

Cultivators require true fasting pills—the longer the hunger suppression, the better.

The ideal pill would allow one to eat a single pill and never eat again, fully completing fasting.

Even slightly better fasting pills only suppress hunger for half a year to a year.

The Immortal Hunger-Relieving Pill, which only sustains for three days per pill, doesn’t even qualify as a defective product.

For cultivators, it fails to meet even the basic requirement of fasting.

Its only advantage is low cost and easy-to-collect ingredients.

Its main ingredients include soybean flour, sesame, peanuts, and beef jerky.

Of course, “low price” is only relative to cultivators who burn mercury to refine pills and spend a thousand taels of silver daily as if it were nothing.

Ordinary people lack the ability to produce the Immortal Hunger-Relieving Pill.

It must be refined by cultivators using an alchemical furnace, barely qualifying as the most basic elixir.

On the market, one pill sells for thirty taels of silver.

Thirty taels of silver is enough to feed an ordinary family of four for a year.

Even mighty Qin cannot distribute the Immortal Hunger-Relieving Pill to its entire army.

The Shu Kingdom’s Iron Cavalry Unit issues it only in limited quantities during critical missions.

(PS: This Immortal Hunger-Relieving Pill frequently appears in ancient novels and actually existed in reality—it was an ancient “Snickers” concoction; recipes can still be found online (feel free to try).

The Mirror of Flowers also describes a “bean flour” that is even more overpowered: one serving suppresses hunger for half a year; consuming it three or four times means never eating again. The recipe is written in excruciating detail, as if afraid the reader won’t learn it.

Here, I offer you two “Immortal Formulas.”

Ancestor’s Hunger-Relieving Formula: Four liang of walnut kernels, one jin of apricot kernels (boiled, peeled, and ground), one jin of licorice, one liang of fennel (roasted), four liang of guanzhong, four liang of white poria, four liang of mint, and one liang of platycodon—all finely ground and thoroughly mixed.

Take one pill, hold it in your mouth, and chew it with any herb, leaf, or pine or cypress needle until it dissolves into juice and swallow it—your strength remains unchanged.

Immortal Hunger-Relieving Pill: One sheng of sesame, one sheng of red dates, one sheng of glutinous rice—all ground into fine powder, formed into pills the size of a bullet with honey. Take one pill, swallow it with water, and you will not feel hunger for a full day.

This formula’s efficacy is beyond description, but do not experiment with it recklessly.

If it works wonders, slap yourself eight times and wake up quickly from this dream.)