A quarter of an hour passed quickly... Nie Kong settled into a chair, flipping through the thick notebook with astonishing speed.

The continuous swish of turning pages made the upper level of the "Pill King Tower" feel even more hushed. Ten pairs of eyes occasionally fell upon Nie Kong, five of the gazes holding different expressions.

Zhan Feihong stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes narrowed, the cold smirk playing at the corner of his lips growing ever deeper. The three young apprentices held their breaths, their eyes darting back and forth between Nie Kong and Zhan Feihong.

Hidden outside the door, Zhan Tianlun secretly broke into a cold sweat, unsure how this situation would resolve. In the blink of an eye, another quarter of an hour vanished.

The room remained quiet, though Zhan Feihong shifted his weight slightly, his face showing clear impatience. Such a thick notebook, even just flipping through it without reading, should take the better part of an hour.

Was he expected to wait like this indefinitely? "It really is recorded in meticulous detail!" His speed of flipping didn't lessen, but Nie Kong inwardly marveled.

Many unfamiliar terms filled the notebook, yet Nie Kong, having been a physician in his past life and a Spirit Pharmacist upon arriving in the Tianling Continent, found many similarities between Mingdan (Nether Pills) and spirit medicine. He could draw analogies, allowing him to understand Mingdan with increasing thoroughness.

Spirit medicine calculated the degree of medicinal fusion to determine the quality of the ingredient. The quality of a Mingdan, however, was judged by the success rate of its medicinal effects taking hold.

Initially, Nie Kong couldn't grasp this; how could one assign a definite metric to the unpredictable success rate after consumption? Now, reading Zhan Feihong's notes, Nie Kong finally understood: the criterion for judging a Mingdan's success rate was, in fact, the degree of medicinal fusion.

This implied that the success rate was merely another term for the medicinal fusion degree that Nie Kong was already familiar with. The concept of success rate was inherently fraught with variables.

If there were two Mingdan, both initially judged to have a 30% success rate, but one took effect while the other failed, wouldn't one retrospectively claim the former had a 100% success rate and the latter 0%? Judging the quality of a Mingdan by its consumption success rate—a method incapable of providing precise numbers—clearly had a massive flaw.

But if that success rate was equivalent to the Tianling Continent's medicinal fusion degree, the whole system made far more sense. What stunned Nie Kong was the realization that a Mingdan here could coalesce with only a 20% degree of medicinal fusion?

This seemed incredible. On the Tianling Continent, a 60% fusion degree was the absolute minimum standard for a successful medicine; anything less meant failure.

The gap between a Mingdan's 20% and a spirit medicine’s 60% was vast, and there had to be a reason for it. "A transcendent-grade Mingdan can actually have a fusion degree of only 10%?" His eyes skimmed two lines of text on the page, leaving Nie Kong feeling utterly perplexed.

The speed at which he turned the pages immediately increased. The pages continued to swish for another half hour, yet Nie Kong still hadn't found the answer within the handwriting.

Thinking quickly, Nie Kong suddenly closed the notebook, shut his eyes, and leaned back against the chair, the content he had just absorbed flashing through his mind... ...

Two meters away, Zhan Feihong paced back and forth with heavy, audible breaths, his fierce gaze frequently sweeping over Nie Kong. The vexation on his face was becoming pronounced; this brat had been occupying him for an hour, and he had wasted an hour alongside him.

"How precious is my time! An entire hour gone just like that!" Zhan Feihong grew angrier the more he thought about it.

He had already made a silent resolution: wait another quarter of an hour at most. If this brat didn't produce a satisfactory answer by then, he would teach him a lesson to etch into his bones, then send him packing—out of sight, out of mind.

However, before the quarter hour was up, seeing Nie Kong's eyes closed as if already asleep, Zhan Feihong could restrain himself no longer. "Hoo!" Zhan Feihong's eyes turned cold.

With a faint sound of air parting, he reached out, aiming for the notebook resting on Nie Kong's chest. But just as his fingertips were about to brush the pages, Nie Kong’s eyes snapped open, and the four gazes collided instantly.

Meeting Nie Kong's look of confusion, Zhan Feihong suddenly felt a pang of awkwardness, his reaching hand freezing in front of Nie Kong's chest. After a moment of bewilderment, Nie Kong’s eyes cleared instantly.

Staring at Zhan Feihong’s face, he let out a strange chuckle. "It seems Third Uncle treasures this notebook dearly; he can't rest even when leaving it for such a short while." Pausing briefly, Nie Kong acted as if he hadn't seen the embarrassment on Zhan Feihong’s face, and smiled again.

"Very well. Having read it for this long, the notebook is no longer of great use to me.

I shall return it to Third Uncle now." The initial sections of the notebook documented the foundational knowledge of Mingdan and the introductory techniques for refining them. This was precisely what Nie Kong required.

The later entries recorded decades of experience and insights accumulated by Zhan Feihong in refining Mingdan. These records were the crystallization of the lifeblood of Zhan Feihong and his apprentices.

But to Nie Kong's eyes, they weren't that crucial. After only roughly flipping through a few pages, Nie Kong had spotted several points that contradicted his own understanding.

It was better not to read further. Now that he had seen what he needed, the most critical realization came during his mental review: the root cause allowing Mingdan to be successfully refined even at a mere 10% medicinal fusion degree was very likely the 'Nether Fire'!

"Take it!" Zhan Feihong waved to an apprentice nearby, his face visibly darkening; Nie Kong's words had clearly infuriated him. The latter half of the notebook contained the true essence!

This brat dared to claim the book was of 'no great use' after reading barely half—not even finishing the first half—without fear of his tongue flapping in the wind! Zhan Tianlun suppressed the intense urge to curse and said in a deep voice, "Young fellow, you’ve seen the notes, so you must have gained insight.

Speak then; I, too, wish to hear your grand theories on Mingdan refinement!" "No rush, no rush, this is only the first step completed." Nie Kong waved his hand, chuckling leisurely. Just as Zhan Feihong was about to erupt, he picked up a Mingdan and swallowed it.

"Aiya ya! Aiya ya!" The little creature tossing and turning within the Spiritual Divine Aperture suddenly sprang up, chirping with unrestrained delight.

Then, tendrils of green vitality surged out, instantly enveloping the Mingdan—which dissolved upon entering his stomach—and pulling it into the Spiritual Divine Aperture. "Xiangxiang, you cannot eat this medicine, nor the next few pills, or there will be none of this medicine left for later!" Just as the little creature prepared to enjoy its meal, Nie Kong's thoughts reached it.

"Aiya ya?" The little creature mumbled in confusion. "Smell to discern the medicine!" Nie Kong offered no further explanation, sending another thought over.

The little creature, possessing high spirituality, understood Nie Kong's intent after a brief pause. It immediately began happily twisting its roots, stems, and leaves.

Xiangxiang had now advanced to the Fifth Tier; its ability to 'smell to discern medicine' far surpassed its previous capacity. In a short while, a small mass of inky-black medicinal power separated from the little creature’s body and was gently cast into a small aperture beside it.

Immediately following, the second mass of medicinal power, then the third, arrived in succession... In less than two minutes, Nie Kong's small aperture contained twelve masses of medicinal power, four of which were ink-black.

"This low-grade Mingdan is quite complex," Nie Kong chuckled inwardly, his gaze shifting to the wide wooden tray beside him. A young man had brought this tray while Nie Kong was reading the notebook; it held ten open medicine boxes, each containing a varying quantity and assortment of medicinal herbs.

After a rapid scan, Nie Kong selected the third box, which held twelve herbs, exactly three of which were black. With maximum speed, he identified the scent of the twelve herbs, picked up the first black herb, and chewed it slowly.

"Huh?" Witnessing this action, Zhan Feihong, whose face had previously turned pale green due to Nie Kong consuming the Mingdan, couldn't help but let out a soft "Hmph," a trace of surprise flickering in his eyes. However, it was quickly replaced by coldness; in his view as a Mingdan Master, the act of someone utterly ignorant of Mingdan tasting herbs after reading only a fraction of the notebook was utterly ridiculous.

This time, Zhan Feihong didn't grow impatient. He stood quietly, coldly observing Nie Kong.

He wanted to see how long this little brat could keep up his antics! Once the brat wore himself out, it would be the perfect time to step in and teach him a lesson.

"The medicinal power of this black herb is indeed rather peculiar." Nie Kong remained blissfully unaware that Zhan Feihong was mentally referring to him as "this little brat." He focused solely on savoring the herb. Simultaneously, Xiangxiang once again deployed 'Smell to Discern Medicine.' The trial results from man and pet mutually verified and became more accurate.

Since this was their first time tasting Underworld Soil herbs, especially the unique black ones, caution was paramount. It took nearly five minutes before Nie Kong opened his eyes and picked up the second herb, which appeared to have a normal color.

This time, the process still took an extended period. After two herbs, both Nie Kong and Xiangxiang had adapted, and the speed of testing increased.

By the time they consumed the twelfth herb, the total time elapsed from placing the herb in his mouth to obtaining the test result was less than half a minute. Letting out a soft breath, Nie Kong glanced at Zhan Feihong opposite him, then continued without pause.

He picked up the second Mingdan, having Xiangxiang employ 'Smell to Discern Medicine' to separate its medicinal power into eleven distinct portions. Next came the eleven herbs used to refine that Mingdan.

Time continued to slip by. After over half an hour, the tray holding the Mingdan was empty, and only one set of herbs remained—the set used to refine the pill the little creature had eaten.

Yet, even without performing 'Smell to Discern Medicine' on that pill, Nie Kong and the little creature tasted all fifteen herbs in that final set one by one. "Little fellow, after smelling for so long, what do you think of the herbs' scent?" Zhan Feihong chuckled, his tone laced with mockery.

Yet, he couldn't help but feel a degree of admiration for Nie Kong; it was difficult enough to pretend to be busy for so long, and even more remarkable that he hadn't shown the slightest hint of impatience while testing the herbs.