Chapter 539

Seeing Miao Zhen exclaimed: "How did Little Auntie discover this?"

Pan Yun: "Hehehe, watching Zhang Ziwang cultivate…"

Pan Yun paused here, lost in thought, murmuring: "He doesn't guard himself at all—maybe it's intentional…"

Regardless of intent or not, Pan Yun shook her head, banishing him from her mind, and asked Seeing and Tao Yanbai: "Have you learned the pill formula for stabilizing the soul?"

Both shook their heads.

Tao Yanbai said: "I never intended to cultivate, so the formulas I learned were all for curing illness and detoxifying."

Seeing Miao Zhen: "I haven't learned it yet. My master said the formula for stabilizing the soul requires both cultivation level and insight—I'm not yet capable of understanding it."

Pan Yun sighed: "Too bad, you won't be making this money."

Seeing Miao Zhen immediately squeezed beside Pan Yun: "Little Auntie, whose money are we making?"

"Zhang Yuanzhu, head of Daguan Courtyard," Pan Yun said: "He suffered the Lei Bian punishment—he'll definitely need pills to stabilize his soul."

Seeing Miao Zhen's eyes darted: "It's not impossible to learn—I'll go ask the senior disciples in Taisu Courtyard tomorrow."

Seeing Miao Zhen: "If Taisu Courtyard's disciples can already make this pill, why would Head Zhang need to buy it from you?"

Pan Yun and Seeing Miao Zhen exchanged glances—oh right, how did they forget that?

Pan Yun patted her shoulder regretfully: "Never mind, Little Auntie will think of another way for you to make money."

Although they missed this opportunity, Seeing Miao Zhen and Tao Yanbai both memorized the formula for the soul-stabilizing pill and asked their senior disciples about it the next day in class.

To their surprise, none of the Taisu Courtyard seniors knew how to make this pill.

"The Soul-Stabilizing Pill is hard to brew, but the Soul-Stabilizing Decoction isn't. If your soul is unstable, start with the Calming Decoction; if that fails, try the Soul-Stabilizing Decoction."

Seeing Miao Zhen immediately asked: "Do you know the recipe?"

"I do," the senior disciple replied without holding back, writing out the decoction formula for her: "The age of the herbs and the dosage change the potency—you must adjust according to the patient's condition."

Seeing Miao Zhen nodded eagerly; she had asked a third-year senior, murmuring: "I wonder if the fourth-year seniors can brew the Soul-Stabilizing Pill…"

"Difficult," the senior replied upon hearing her mutter: "The Soul-Stabilizing Pill demands not only cultivation level but also the alchemist's mental state—it requires calmness and stillness to succeed. Very few can master this formula."

Though Taisu Courtyard teaches everything, very few students end up mastering it all; most choose one or two specialties to focus on.

Even if they fail the ordination exam and don't become Daoist Priests, they can still become wandering Daoist healers, specializing in one or two ailments—still a skill that keeps you from starving.

Hearing how hard the Soul-Stabilizing Pill was to brew, Seeing Miao Zhen became even more interested, studying hard while searching everywhere for its formula.

Pan Yun, meanwhile, attended classes while also going to Doumu Hall for punishment; every day when Zhang Ziwang came to sit in meditation, she would put down her broom and cloth and sit on another cushion to cultivate.

Pan Xiaohei, sensing something, stopped wandering around during her meditation and simply lay quietly in the corner by the hall's door.

Zhang Ziwang watched her calm presence; his Dao heart stirred briefly, then he forcibly suppressed it, reciting the Pure Heart Mantra twice before settling back into meditation.

For five days, Pan Xiaohei was delighted—until she saw Pan Yun planning to go down the mountain to the market instead of focusing on cultivation, and immediately grew displeased: "Your cultivation has barely recovered—why aren't you going?"

Pan Yun: "I'm not skipping—it's just that I'll go after returning from the mountain in the afternoon."

"You only get half an hour of meditation during class—now it's break time, why not practice more?"

Pan Yun: "... Pan Xiaohei, don't be excessive. Do you understand rest and work balance? Don't act like I'm lazy—I meditate every morning and night in my room, and I get at least five hours of cultivation daily!"

Pan Xiaohei sneered: "Who said cultivation under eight hours a day is the same as not practicing at all?"

Pan Yun replied coldly: "Add the seven hours of class, and when has my daily cultivation ever been under eight hours?"

Pan Yun narrowed her eyes: "You're so concerned about whether I go to Doumu Hall to cultivate—is it because my cultivation there benefits you?"

Pan Xiaohei stuck out her neck: "It benefits you too—haven't you noticed your soul has become denser?"

Pan Yun shook her head: "I haven't felt it."

After a pause, she added: "I've just been sleeping better lately—after evening meditation, I fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow."

Pan Xiaohei: "That's the benefit of a denser soul."

Pan Yun stroked her chin thoughtfully; Hong Yan lifted her head and rolled the golden hairpin housing Xiao Hong toward her.

Pan Yun picked up the hairpin: "You're thinking the same thing I am—but I wonder if Doumu Yuanjun would mind a ghost entering the hall?"

Hong Yan lifted her delicate face: "Try it?"

Pan Yun: "Try it."

Pan Yun decided to stay awake that night and cultivate in Doumu Hall.

Pan Xiaohei:...

She felt a pang of jealousy: "You're willing to sacrifice for her?"

Pan Yun: "... Why are you jealous of them? They're leaving tomorrow. Xiao Hong still doesn't remember where her home is—I'm helping her stabilize her soul so she can recall her origins sooner. What's wrong with that?"

Pan Xiaohei still felt jealous.

So that night, Pan Yun brought her along.

Doumu Hall was quiet at night; Pan Yun had explored every corner of it these past days and could walk in blindfolded, so she slipped inside easily in the dark.

The night watchman's room was a small chamber beside the entrance, far from the main hall.

As she passed, Pan Yun stuck a talisman on the door and slipped inside with the three of them.

Pan Yun quietly closed the main door, looked up at Doumu Yuanjun, bowed respectfully, silently muttered several apologies, then summoned Xiao Hong from the hairpin.

Pan Yun, the cat, and the fox stared expectantly at her: "How is it? Do you feel anything?"

Xiao Hong floated tentatively, then brightened: "I'm not being rejected."

Pan Yun exhaled in relief, sat cross-legged on the cushion: "Good. Let's cultivate."

Pan Yun cultivated all night in Doumu Hall; in the unseen space, the hall was filled with multicolored auroras, and the ghost, cat, and fox lay curled beside her, forming a circle around her, soaking up the auroras she drew in.

These auroras settled on them, plunging them into deep meditation; their breaths synced with nature, and even Pan Yun fell asleep, her soul gradually growing denser without her noticing.

At dawn the next day, Pan Yun awoke from meditation, wiped her face, shoved the hairpin into her bosom, rolled up the black cat and fox, and slipped out of the hall.

She had taken only a few steps when she sensed the yellow talisman on the watchman's door had been removed; she froze, then leapt two swift bounds onto the wall and scrambled over it.