The Immortal of Plague begins by establishing the root of lung fire.

Song You stared intently at the medicinal liquid. The three ingredients had not completely blended, with a very thin layer of turbid air separating them.

According to pharmacology, this was because the fire was not hot enough. He judged that the fire was not close to the critical point, so he contracted his chest and opened his mouth. A mouthful of thick lung fire spewed out from the root of his tongue and pressed down into the furnace. The flames covered the top and suffocated the medicine at the bottom.

After the fire subsided, Song You observed by the firelight that the speed of the medicinal liquid's rotation had slowed down, the fire had slowed down, and the heat could not penetrate the medicinal materials; instead, it was blocked by the yellow clay powder.

There was a way to remedy the situation. He only needed to add another half a coin of dried wood bark, ignite the fire, and break through the layer of turbid air. He reached out his left hand toward the stone platform, his fingertips just touching the edge of the dried wood bark.

Right at this moment.

"cough!"

A very loud cough came from behind, accompanied by a strong, foul gust of wind that slammed into the medicine furnace, causing it to tilt to the right and emit a piercing scraping sound.

Song You reacted extremely quickly, pressing down on the furnace handles with both hands to firmly stabilize the furnace in its original position. The medicinal liquid inside the furnace, which was already on the verge of equilibrium, immediately dispersed due to the agitation caused by this external force.

The bluish-green liquid and dark yellow juice separated, and the yellow clay powder sank to the bottom, turning into a pool of charred, scattered residue. Needless to say, the medicine was ruined.

Song You turned his head and saw Jia Chunfang sitting cross-legged on the wooden couch, her back hunched, her face pursed together, her lips twitching as she looked at him with a half-smile.

"I did it." Jia Chunfang made a hoarse sound in her throat. "You didn't think that no one would disturb you while you were brewing medicine outside, did you? You've already lost your composure over such a small noise. How are you going to do things in the future?"

Song You withdrew his hand from the stove handle and lowered his eyelids: "This disciple dares not, it is this disciple's lack of willpower."

Unable to figure out what the old man was thinking, Song You, who was already somewhat dissatisfied with the first attempt at drug fusion, decided to ask. He looked up at Jia Chunfang and said, "Master, when I was reducing the heat just now, I noticed that the snake-eating grass was too cold in nature, and the yellow clay powder couldn't contain it. Shouldn't the heat be reduced by a little more?"

Jia Chunfang stopped laughing, her cloudy eyes darting around: "You're not stupid. Snake-bite grass grows in shady places and can't withstand strong fire. Reduce the bottom fire by two parts and press the top fire down firmly so that the medicinal properties can be combined. You can try it a few more times."

"Thank you, Master. I will try again."

After listening, Song You closed his eyes. He mobilized the lung qi in his lungs to repair the damaged outer flame. He reviewed Jia Chunfang's words and the records in the "Illustrated Catalogue of Herbs" in his mind and sorted out the omissions.

When Song You opened his eyes again, he reached out and cleaned away the burnt residue in the furnace, then took out the three medicinal herbs again.

Having learned from his previous experience, Song You slowed down his movements this time, controlling the temperature of the outer flame, withdrawing the bottom fire slightly, and keeping the top fire suspended. At the same time, he focused his attention on the surrounding movements.

Jia Chunfang watched Song You's methodical actions and tapped her fingers twice on the wooden couch.

"Brother Jiang Yang," Jia Chunfang said.

Jiang Yangge was organizing account books in front of the medicine cabinet when he heard the call. He put down what he was doing, quickly walked to the wooden bed, and knelt on one knee: "What are your orders, Elder?"

He had already bandaged his left hand, but it was too late, and his left hand was already somewhat out of control, throbbing with pain from time to time.

"You've been managing the pharmacy for so long," Jia Chunfang said, pointing to Song You in front of the stove, "who's the fastest at brewing medicine in our pharmacy?"

Jiang Yangge glanced up at Song You's retreating figure, swallowed hard, and replied in a low voice, "Reporting to the Elder, it was your previous disciple. He brewed a good medicine on his very first attempt. Your disciple before that also succeeded on his first try, and the disciple before that did the same. And I heard that your disciple before that..."

Jia Chunfang raised her withered hand and pressed it down: "Shut up, there's no need to talk about this nonsense. Those people have been carefully trained by me, of course they can do these things. They can't do anything except work in the pharmacy, what real skills do they have?"

Hearing this from the stove, Song You continued his work, recalling what Jia Chunfang had told him last time: "Cultivating with care" is, to put it bluntly, using some means to stuff a memory into one's brain, at the cost of losing part of one's own memory and becoming a walking corpse who only knows how to handle pharmacy affairs.

"Besides those few?" Jia Chunfang continued to ask.

Jiang Yangge lowered his head even further: "Then the first one is naturally you, Elder. Back then, you relied on your own skills to achieve great success on your first attempt at opening the furnace, and everyone in the pharmacy knew about it."

"So it was me?" Jia Chunfang looked up, her withered neck stretching out. "I remember now. The first time I opened the furnace, I brewed a substandard medicinal meal. I was overjoyed and took that bowl of medicinal meal back to feed my junior brother who was still sleeping."

Jia Chunfang's wrinkles smoothed out, and her tone was filled with nostalgia: "After he drank it, he was so happy that he jumped up and down, and even broke the bed board under his feet."

Song You's face twitched, but his hands moved with practiced ease and precision. The brotherhood among the disciples of Po Cang Guan was truly touching.

He composed himself, a plan forming in his mind. His gaze was fixed on the medicinal liquid in the furnace, where the three ingredients had completely fused together, turning into a viscous, dark yellow paste.

The medicine is almost ready.

Song You's chest heaved, his breathing became heavy, and he cut off the output of three-tenths of the outer flame, causing the firelight in the furnace to dim.

Fine beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and down his cheeks. It was only natural that Chai Xin's early-stage cultivation was weakened after two consecutive major expenditures of energy.

As soon as the heat weakened, the moisture in the medicinal mud evaporated quickly, condensing into powder. Song You reached out and closed the furnace lid to cut off the air.

After waiting for ten breaths, Song You lifted the furnace lid. At the bottom of the furnace lay two small handfuls of grayish-yellow powder; the lung-clearing powder had been brewed.

He took out two clean pieces of coarse cloth from his pocket, wrapped the powder in them, tied them tightly, turned around and walked to the wooden bed, handing the two cloth packages over with both hands: "Master, please take a look."

Jia Chunfang reached out and took the cloth bag. He weighed it in his hand for a moment, then untied one of the bags and brought it to his nose to smell it.

"The impurities weren't completely removed, and the heat was a bit too strong." Jia Chunfang threw the cloth bag onto the wooden couch. "Two bags of inferior products, but considering it's the first time, it's not bad."

"Thank you for the praise, Master." Song You clasped his hands and bowed. A weight was lifted from his heart. The old monster had given his evaluation and hadn't turned hostile on the spot; he had passed this test.

Jiang Yangge, who was kneeling on the ground, gasped. He had personally witnessed Song You produce medicine the second time he opened the furnace after being interrupted. The talent of this master and apprentice was hard to be considered normal in the pharmacy.

Jia Chunfang tapped her fingers on the cloth bag: "Since you succeeded on your second try, your performance met my expectations. Here's a medicine furnace for you. Go to the storeroom later and pick one that suits you."

"Thank you for the reward, Master," Song You replied.

Jia Chunfang leaned forward, staring at Song You's face: "You have a talent for pharmacology, and you're steady in your actions. I think we should continue, what do you say?"

Looking at Jia Chunfang's gaunt face, Song You felt a chill run down his spine. This old monster's offer to continue was definitely not without ulterior motives. Or rather, the side job he took on was certainly more than just brewing medicine.

Song You forced himself to speak: "What does Master want to test?"

Jia Chunfang touched her lips together and uttered two words.

"Sewing up the leather."