Now, his Spirit-Forging Eyes could trace scent trails of past elemental interactions, including what spiritual fire or technique had last altered a material’s base form.
Very useful in pill research.
As the triple-layered gaze lit up his vision, the two unopened cans glowed with unfamiliar energy threads.
Peach Oolong Tea showed tranquil waves of fire and water essence, laced in a strange harmony.
Wing Blast, on the other hand –
Had chaotic streaks of wind, thunder, and something he couldn’t quite place.
Not combustive. Not poisonous.
But definitely wild.
Ji Yunzhi tapped the top of the Wing Blast can thoughtfully.
’This one’s going to be fun.’
He set it aside for deeper analysis, then sniffed the Peach Oolong Tea slowly.
The scent floated up, gentle and warm.
A light roasted edge curled beneath a mellow sweetness, similar to how a low-grade spirit flower tea might smell when brewed over emberkind coals.
He took a sip.
The taste was calm, slightly earthy, with a subtle fire-qi afterglow.
His brows rose.
It reminded him of a diluted infusion made with Camellia Flameleaf. A thin red-edged leaf that shimmered faintly when dried, often used to stabilize foundational qi flow.
Not the exact taste, but the feeling it left behind on the tongue was close.
There was another faint note underneath. Smooth, floral, almost waxy. Comparable to Riverplum resin, a pale golden substance collected from the cracked bark of riverbank trees, known to ease elemental transitions during pill formation.
The more he drank, the more he sensed that same slow harmony spreading through his limbs.
No surging power.
No clearing fog.
Just stability.
The kind that would settle restless qi or allow someone to adjust after using intense movement arts.
He emptied the can and gave a small nod.
Then reached for the last one.
Psshhkt!
Wing Blast hissed open with a sharp crackle.
The scent hit instantly – crisp and cool, with a hint of something bright just beneath.
He took a sip.
Gulp.
The fizz struck first, tingling on his tongue.
Then came a citrusy tang, not harsh but strong enough to wake the senses. It reminded him of something brewed with Sunfire Peel – the thin outer skin of a fiery-orange fruit, often dried until it curled and used in low-tier clarity tonics.
Not the same, but the way it rolled across his tongue carried the same energy.
Behind it, a sharp herbaceous trace.
His mind pulled up the memory of Miscrity Vine. A long green climbing plant with thread-thin leaves that smelled faintly metallic when crushed, often used to quicken spiritual perception during delicate extractions.
And at the end, a mild bitterness lingered. Not unpleasant.
He tilted his head.
That edge reminded him of how Crustbark tasted when ground too finely in step-acceleration pills. Crustbark came from the cracked, dark outer shell of Cliff Brok Trees, known for its tough texture and bite.
Another sip.
Still fizzy, though slightly softer now.
’Flattens quicker than expected.’ Ji Yunzhi thought, tapping the can’s side.
He took a deeper gulp.
The flavors swirled past his tongue.
He closed his eyes.
His breathing slowed.
Qi gathered at the base of his throat, guided along the meridians connected to his mouth and nasal channels.
He activated it.
Fractal Resonance Dissection.
It wasn’t a proper technique, not by any known sect standards. It was something he had pieced together years ago using four unrelated fragments.
The first came from a broken sensory refinement scroll used by beast tamers, meant to detect poison through saliva changes.
The second was a set of chantless breathing instructions from an abandoned apothecary cave, meant to enhance tongue sensitivity for pill testers.
The third was a torn section of a sound cultivation manual, which emphasized the resonance of taste, scent, and inner qi.
And the fourth… an obscure margin note scribbled on the back of a burnt cultivation journal. It mentioned the concept of tongue pulse weaving, a theory discarded as too unstable.
Ji Yunzhi had tried merging them before.
His tongue cramped.
His jaw locked.
One time, his sense of taste vanished for three whole days.
But he never gave up.
The idea was too brilliant.
A technique that allowed one to taste spiritual effects before they activated. To detect not just flavor, but how a substance would interact with the body’s qi, meridians, and spiritual resonance.
Ji Yunzhi had practiced, refined, and bled into scroll after scroll trying to apply Fractal Resonance Dissection.
Yet even with everything in place, it never worked.
No matter how he approached it, his spiritual sense couldn’t synchronize with the intake.
The parts refused to harmonize.
He estimated two to four years more before he could refine it into something usable.
But the enlightenment he entered earlier…
That moment had rewired things more profoundly than he realized.
Now, as he focused, he felt the first faint threads activating.
Not fully refined, but enough to wield.
Enough to use.
His tongue stilled.
Breath slowed.
He drank more of the Wing Blast.
Then the reading came.
His eyes narrowed.
Fractal Resonance Dissection, the core of the technique, shivered in his senses.
At first he thought it glitched.
But no.
It pulsed again, steady, insistent.
The drink contained something that didn’t just replenish qi.
It flooded it!
Not a gentle stream through dry roots.
Not even a rainstorm.
This was a river smashing through a drought-baked canyon.
Dry meridians turning slick and alive in a blink.
’That can’t be right.’
He took another mouthful.
The reading stayed the same.
Absurd.
Every single drink in this store had something absurd about it.
But this one –
This one unleashed a wildfire that roared in his chest.
The same fire that drove him to create the Cola-Inspired Pill.
That same heat rose again, pushing him to rush back to his alchemy chamber and break this apart down to its bare essence
His entire frame jolted.
He wanted to extract.
Measure.
Distill.
Refine.
But he knew better.
This was his only can.
Only one purchase allowed per day.
He tipped the last of it into his mouth.
Tomorrow.
He would return.