Chapter Three: The Forgotten Art

Yun Zhihao sat cross-legged in the dark corner of the dirty servant quarters, his expression calm but his stomach growled loudly.

It had been three days since he began the path of the cultivators.

Three days since he awakened the Rever Veins.

Three days since he stepped into a new destiny.

And yet… he had no spirit stones. No pills. No resources. Not even decent food. The servants lives were better than his.

Cultivation wasn't just about talent or will,it demanded resources. Spirit-nourishing herbs, strengthening pills, energy-rich food. Without them, even the most gifted would stall. The spiritual energy in the lower realm was weak compared to the upper realm. To thrive here,he needed every resources he could gather.

Zhihao opened his eyes and looked around the shabby shed for any trave of food or pills but there was none.

"I can't cultivate properly without support," he muttered. "And the clan won't give me anything. I'm still a 'servant' in their eyes."

He gritted his teeth hardly. "But they forget…"

His eyes sharpened, glowing faintly in the dark like a fire.

"I was once the Heaven-Reving Demon Sovereign. I didn't need anyone to give me power. I made my own."

A flood of ancient memories surged forward,burning furnaces, the scent of rare herbs, the hiss of fire meeting powder and pill furnace dancing wildly with pills inside awaiting the pill tribulation.

Alchemy.

In the Upper Realm, alchemists were revered as gods. They could do and improve the lives of cultivators.Their pills could heal shattered meridians, extend life, and forge legends. In the Middle Realm, they were envied, hunted, protected. Once you were an alchemist in the middle realm,the big sects will try to poach you into their team but if you refuse,you will become a prey ready to be hunted by the hunter. In the Lower Realm where Zhihao was now,true alchemists were nearly extinct. In the entire lower realm, alchemists might be only three and they were all filled with pride and have joined the royal palace serving there.

Even the mighty Yun Clan didn't possess a single real alchemist.

Alchemy wasn't just rare,it was forgotten and mysterious.

But not to him who was a master alchemist in his past life.

"Looks like I'll have to remind the world what alchemy truly is," he said.

—

The world was vastly divided into three major layers of existence:

Lower Realm, Where mortals struggled to awaken Qi, where clans fought over scraps, and the dao of heaven remained quiet. This was Yun Zhihao's current world, Middle Realm, Home to sects that spanned mountains and ruled empires. Nascent Soul cultivators battled over spiritual veins. Resources were abundant, but danger was endless, Upper Realm – The domain of immortals, ancient bloodlines, and true divine laws. A place where gods walked and even a mortal's name could shake the heavens… if backed by enough power and where the dao of heaven abide.

Mo Tianxue,his past self had ruled in the Upper Realm. Now, reincarnated in the Lower, he would have to start again.

But with his knowledge, he had an edge no one else had. He was not scared of starting again and alone.

---

Zhihao quickly scanned the woods behind the Yun estate. He walked slowly to the woods,his eyes scanning the entire herbs there. This region was poor in resources, but he still found a few useful herbs: Spiritgrass, Irongrass, Red Fireleaf.

Worthless to most.

But in the right hands? Priceless portion.

He returned to his shed and pulled out a rusty old pot from underneath his old and wooden bed.

Not a cauldron. Not a pill furnace.

Just a pot.

He set it on the fire, crushed the herbs with a stone and poured it into the pot, and began slowly heating them.

No Qi. No flame technique. Just precise memory and timing. If the alchemists in the lower realm saw this,they would have shake their heads in worry.

As the mixture bubbled, the air was filled with a pungent aroma. Smoke curled in the dim light.

He closed his eyes, guiding the essence with his Qi into his dantian. It was dangerous. Primitive. Crude.

But he'd done worse with less.

An hour passed.

Then another.

Until finally

Sssssss.

The fire died. The mixture solidified into a single dull red pill. The pill was not even worthy to undergo a pill tribulation.

Zhihao picked it up and studied it carefully.

"It's not much," he whispered. "But for a first attempt, without a furnace, without ingredients, and in this cursed realm... it'll do."

It was a Low-Grade Body Refinement Pill.

Enough to boost strength and accelerate recovery.

He consumed it, sat back down, and began cultivating.

---

Hours Later

His bones cracked. His veins expanded and became larger. His Qi grew stronger, more stable.

Second Layer of Body Refinement.

The breakthrough was small but significant. Most outer disciples took weeks to reach this level. He had done it in days, with nothing but weeds and will. His talent was even greater than that of Yun Long, the pride of the Yun family.

He smiled faintly.

"If I can find more herbs... I can make better pills. I can fund my cultivation without relying on the clan."

He opened his memory like a scroll, sifting through thousands of alchemy formulas.

In the upper realm, he'd refined Heaven-Tier Pills that could revive the dead. But here, even a simple Qi Recovery Pill could make someone a genius.

"I'll start small. Build a reputation. Sell pills under a false name."

Alchemy was more than just power. It was currency. It could open doors. Influence sects. Bend kings.

And in the Lower Realm, where no one remembered the art…

Yun Zhihao would become the only flame in a world of shadows. He would become the best alchemist under heavens throughout the three realms. He had only just started. The whole continent will hear of him and be in awe. This was his goal. His desire.