The workshop smelled of frost and possibility.
Wang Ben arrived before dawn, finding his father already there. Wang Tian stood before the preparation table with his back to the door, hands moving through the familiar motions of an alchemist at work. Measuring. Weighing. Arranging herbs in precise formations that spoke of decades of practice.
But his hands were trembling.
Wang Ben said nothing as he entered. He moved to the water basin they had prepared the night before, checking the temperature with his palm. Cool but not cold. They would add the Coldvein Lotus last, letting its natural chill permeate the bath rather than forcing the temperature artificially.
"You're early," Wang Tian said without turning.
"I couldn't sleep."
"Neither could I." His father set down a measuring scale and finally turned. His face was calm, composed, the expression of a man who had made peace with what was coming. But his eyes told a different story. Fear lived there, buried deep but unmistakable.
Wang Ben understood. This was everything. Nine years of decline, of watching his skills fade, of being pitied by those who once envied him. Nine years of saving every spare stone for a healing treasure he couldn't afford. And now this, a technique no one in Redstone City had ever attempted, based on research his fifteen-year-old son had somehow discovered.
If it worked, Wang Tian might reclaim what he had lost.
If it failed, he would lose everything that remained.
"The herbs are prepared," Wang Tian said, gesturing to the neat rows on the table. "Dragon's Tear Moss, dried at the correct temperature. Spirit Settling Root, purified. Calm Heart Flower, Silverleaf, the supporting compounds." He paused. "I checked them three times."
"I know."
"I checked them a fourth time this morning."
Wang Ben moved to his father's side, looking over the preparations. Everything was exactly as it should be. The System confirmed it silently, scrolling data through his awareness that he couldn't share.
[PREPARATION ANALYSIS]
[All components within acceptable parameters]
[Coldvein Lotus preservation: Optimal]
[Supplementary herb ratios: Correct]
[Estimated procedure success probability: 78.3%]
[Note: Probability assumes correct execution of all steps]
Seventy-eight percent. Better odds than Wang Ben had expected, given the circumstances. But that meant a twenty-two percent chance of failure. Of watching his father die in a medicinal bath while he stood helpless.
He pushed the thought aside.
"The lotus," Wang Ben said, nodding toward the wooden box that rested apart from the other ingredients. Frost still clung to its surface despite the warmth of the workshop. Inside, pale blue petals rested in perfect stillness, frost clinging to them naturally despite the warmth of the room.
Wang Tian opened the box and stared at the flowers within. "Such a small thing," he murmured. "Such a small thing to stake everything on."
"The research is sound."
"Is it?" Wang Tian closed the box gently. "I've read your documents a dozen times, Ben. The theory makes sense. The mechanism is logical. But no one in Redstone City has ever used Coldvein Lotus this way. No one I've spoken to has even heard of the technique."
"The research came from the eastern provinces. Different traditions, different approaches."
"So you said." Wang Tian's eyes found his son's face. "You found this in the old archives. A scroll no one else had read. Written by a scholar whose name you can't quite remember."
The silence stretched between them.
Wang Tian was quiet for a moment. Then he turned back to the preparations, his hands steadier now.
"We should begin the final preparations," he said. "The immersion needs to happen at mid-morning, yes?"
"The research specifies the timing."
"Then we'd best not waste daylight." Wang Tian paused. "But before we do, there's something I need to handle first."
They stood in the corridor outside the workshop, morning light beginning to filter through the compound's eastern windows. Wang Tian had changed into clean robes, his appearance composed despite the gravity of what lay ahead.
"I need to inform the Patriarch and Grand Elder," he said.
Wang Ben frowned. "Is that necessary? We don't need their permission."
"No. But if something goes wrong, I don't want it to look like I was hiding something desperate. The clan has eyes everywhere. If I die in that workshop today, there will be questions. Suspicions. Your mother doesn't need that burden on top of everything else."
The logic was sound. Wang Ben hated it anyway.
"There's another reason," Wang Tian continued. "If I don't survive this, I want the Patriarch's word that you and your mother will have the clan's full support. That Chen will have resources for his cultivation when he's old enough. That you won't be forgotten simply because your father died attempting something foolish."
"It's not foolish."
"From the outside, it looks exactly like a desperate man grasping at straws." Wang Tian's smile was tired. "I need to control the narrative before others do it for me."
He began walking toward the main compound. Wang Ben fell into step beside him.
"I'll wait outside during the meeting."
"That would be best. Wang Feng will have questions I'd rather answer without you present." Wang Tian glanced at his son. "Questions about where you found this research. How you knew to look for it. Why a fifteen-year-old boy seems to understand alchemical theory better than most apprentices twice his age."
"What will you tell him?"
"The truth, as far as I know it. That you've changed since the forest. That you have knowledge you shouldn't. That I don't understand it, but I trust you." Wang Tian's voice softened. "And that you saved my life once already, when you bought that lotus for three stones while I was mourning the auction loss. The least I can do is trust you again."
They reached the Patriarch's wing of the compound. Two guards stood at attention outside the study, their cultivation stable and unremarkable. Retainer family warriors, loyal and unimaginative.
"Wait here," Wang Tian said. "This shouldn't take long."
He spoke briefly with the guards, who stepped aside to allow him entry. The heavy door closed behind him, and Wang Ben was left alone in the corridor with his thoughts.
The wait was interminable.
Wang Ben paced. Stopped. Paced again. The muffled sound of voices reached him through the door, too indistinct to make out words. He caught his father's tone, calm and measured. A deeper voice that must be the Patriarch. And another, rougher, that could only be Grand Elder Wang Feng.
What were they asking? Did they believe the research? Would they try to stop this?
He pressed his palm against the cold stone wall and forced himself to breathe.
[TEMPORAL ANALYSIS]
[Meeting duration: 23 minutes]
[Host stress indicators: Elevated]
[Recommendation: Controlled breathing to maintain composure]
Twenty-three minutes. It felt like hours.
Finally, the door opened.
Wang Tian emerged, his expression revealing nothing. Behind him, Wang Ben caught a glimpse of the study's interior, of the Patriarch's aged features and Wang Feng's scarred face, before the door swung closed again.
"Well?" Wang Ben asked.
"They've agreed." Wang Tian began walking back toward the workshop. "Wang Feng will ensure we're not disturbed during the procedure. The Patriarch gave his word that if something happens to me, you and your mother will have the clan's full support."
Relief flooded through Wang Ben, followed immediately by a colder realization. "They think it might kill you."
"They think it's possible, yes." Wang Tian's stride didn't falter. "The Patriarch was concerned. He asked if I was certain, if there were other options, if the risk was worth the potential gain. I told him the truth. That I've been dying slowly for nine years, and I'd rather risk a quick death for a chance at life."
"And Wang Feng?"
"Wang Feng was different." A strange expression crossed Wang Tian's face. "He studied your research carefully. Asked questions about the mechanism, the timing, the supplementary herbs. Then he simply nodded and said the theory was sound."
"That's all?"
"He also said he would ensure nothing interfered with the procedure." Wang Tian glanced at his son. "The way he said it made me think he had specific interferences in mind."
Wang Ben thought of Elder Liu. Of the warning formation that had failed. Of all the small things that had gone wrong over the years.
"Good," he said quietly. "That's good."
The water was ready.
Wang Ben watched as his father disrobed, folding his garments with the precise care of a man performing a final ritual. The medicinal bath waited in the center of the workshop, steam rising from its surface despite the cold that would soon permeate it. The supplementary herbs had already dissolved, turning the water a pale, clouded green.
Only the Coldvein Lotus remained separate, its box open on the table beside the bath.
"Once you're submerged, I'll add the lotus," Wang Ben said. "The cold will hit immediately. Don't fight it. Let it penetrate."
Wang Tian nodded, his jaw tight. "And the tremors?"
"They'll start within the first few hours. They'll be worst on the first day, then gradually subside." Wang Ben met his father's eyes. "The tremors are the cure, not the symptom. They're breaking down scar tissue, clearing blockages. If they stop too early, it means the technique has failed."
"And if they don't stop at all?"
"Then we have a different problem. But the supplementary herbs should prevent that." Wang Ben hesitated. "Father, once this begins, you can't leave the bath. Three days. No matter how much it hurts."
"Three days." Wang Tian looked at the water, at the steam rising from its surface, at the frost-covered box that would soon transform it. "I've endured worse."
"No. You haven't."
The honesty surprised them both. Wang Tian stared at his son for a long moment, then laughed softly.
"At least you're not trying to comfort me with lies." He stepped toward the bath. "Let's begin."
Wang Tian entered the water slowly, lowering himself until it reached his shoulders. The warmth of the supplementary herbs enveloped him, and some of the tension left his face.
"It's not so bad."
"The lotus changes everything."
Wang Ben selected one of the three Coldvein Lotus flowers from the box. The petals were so cold they burned his fingers, frost spreading across his skin where they touched. He held it over the water for a moment, watching his father's face.
"Are you ready?"
Wang Tian's hands gripped the edges of the wooden tub. "Do it."
Wang Ben released the lotus.
The petals hit the water and immediately began to dissolve, releasing their stored cold into the bath. The temperature plummeted so fast that Wang Tian's breath caught, his entire body going rigid. Frost crept across the water's surface, spreading outward from where the lotus had fallen.
"Father?"
"I'm... fine." The words came through clenched teeth. "It's... intense."
Wang Ben watched the spiritual energy patterns in the water, tracking the way the cold penetrated his father's body. The supplementary herbs were doing their work, moderating the freeze, preventing the cold from spreading too fast or too deep. But the Coldvein Lotus was powerful. Even moderated, it was overwhelming.
[PROCEDURE INITIATED]
[Subject vital signs: Stable but stressed]
[Cold energy penetration: 3% and increasing]
[Meridian response: Within expected parameters]
[Estimated time to tremor onset: 2-4 hours]
"Talk to me," Wang Ben said. "Tell me what you're feeling."
"Cold." Wang Tian's laugh was strained. "Cold everywhere. In my bones. In my blood. Like someone poured winter into my veins."
"That's normal. The cold needs to reach your meridians. Once it does, the real work begins."
The hours crawled past. Wang Ben added supplementary herbs at precise intervals, adjusting the bath's composition based on his father's responses. Wang Tian's skin took on a bluish tinge, his breathing slowing as his body adapted to the cold. He stopped shivering after the first hour. The frost on the water's surface thickened.
Then the tremors began.
It started as a subtle vibration, barely visible. Wang Tian's hands twitching against the tub's edges. His shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly.
"Ben'er..."
"I see it. This is supposed to happen."
The tremors built. What began as twitches became shaking, Wang Tian's entire body convulsing in the freezing water. His teeth chattered despite his clenched jaw. His knuckles went white where he gripped the wood.
"It hurts." The words were barely audible. "My meridians... it feels like they're being torn apart."
"They're being cleansed. The tremors are breaking down the scar tissue from your fall."
"You're certain?"
Wang Ben looked at the System's continuous stream of data, at the numbers that confirmed everything was proceeding as expected. The pain was real. The danger was real. But the technique was working.
His hands curled into fists at his sides. "I'm certain."
Evening came while they worked.
The workshop door opened, and Wang Ben's hand moved toward his sword before he recognized his mother's silhouette. Li Mei stood in the doorway with baby Chen cradled against her chest, her face pale as she took in the scene.
Wang Tian floated in water that had gone opaque with dissolved herbs, his skin tinged blue, his body shaking with continuous tremors. Frost covered every surface near the bath. The cold radiating from it made the air itself feel heavy.
"Is he..." Li Mei's voice caught.
"The technique is working." Wang Ben moved to intercept her, keeping himself between his mother and the worst of the sight. "The tremors are supposed to happen. They're breaking down the damage in his meridians."
"He looks like he's dying."
"He's healing. It just doesn't look like it."
Li Mei's arms tightened around Chen, who slept peacefully against her shoulder, oblivious to his father's suffering. "How much longer?"
"Three days total. The worst should be over by tomorrow."
"Should be?"
Wang Ben had no comforting answer for that. The technique was ancient, drawn from knowledge no one in this world possessed. He believed it would work. The System's calculations supported that belief. But certainty was a luxury he couldn't honestly claim.
"I'll bring you food later," Li Mei said finally. Her eyes moved past him to her husband's shaking form. "Stay with him. Don't leave him alone."
"I won't."
She lingered a moment longer, watching the tremors wrack Wang Tian's body. Then she turned and left, closing the door softly behind her.
Wang Ben returned to his vigil.
The interruption came just as the light outside faded completely.
Wang Ben sensed it before he heard it. A presence approaching the workshop, cultivation energy that registered as foundation establishment Stage 9. Powerful by Redstone City standards. Dangerous.
Elder Liu.
[THREAT DETECTED]
[Approaching entity: Foundation Establishment Stage 9]
[Identity: High probability match to Elder Liu]
[Current threat level: Moderate]
[Note: Host father is vulnerable. Recommend caution.]
Wang Ben's hand found his sword hilt. His father was helpless, submerged in a medicinal bath, body wracked with tremors that made self-defense impossible. If Elder Liu intended harm, there was nothing Wang Ben could do to stop him.
Footsteps in the corridor. A shadow at the door.
Then another presence, larger, more powerful. Core formation Stage 6. Grand Elder Wang Feng.
The footsteps stopped.
Wang Ben couldn't hear the words through the door, but he could imagine them. Elder Liu with his excuses, his pretense of concern, his careful mask of loyalty. And Wang Feng, scarred face impassive, blocking the path with his presence alone.
The conversation was brief.
When it ended, Elder Liu's presence retreated, moving away from the workshop with barely concealed frustration in his spiritual signature. Wang Feng remained for a moment longer, a silent guardian in the corridor, before he too departed.
[THREAT NEUTRALIZED]
[Elder Liu departing compound]
[Grand Elder Wang Feng has assumed protective position]
[Recommend: Maintain focus on procedure]
Wang Ben released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Grand Elder Wang Feng had kept his word. Whatever Liu had intended, whatever excuse he'd prepared, it hadn't mattered. The old warrior was watching.
They were protected. For now.
The night deepened.
Wang Tian's tremors intensified, then gradually began to stabilize. The frost on the water's surface thickened into a solid sheet that Wang Ben had to break periodically to add more supplementary herbs. The cold in the workshop became severe enough that Wang Ben's breath misted in the air.
Through it all, he watched. Monitored. Adjusted.
His father drifted in and out of coherence. Sometimes he spoke clearly, asking questions about the procedure, the timing, how much longer remained. Other times he mumbled fragments that made no sense, names from the past, snatches of conversations from years gone by.
"Wang Feng... the miasma... I can save him..."
Wang Ben leaned forward. "Father?"
But Wang Tian's eyes were unfocused, seeing something beyond the workshop's walls. "The herbs are ready... I've checked them three times..."
He was reliving it. The fall. The moment everything had changed.
Wang Ben listened, not interrupting, as his father's fragmented words painted a picture of that terrible day. The confidence of a Grade 8 alchemist at the peak of his powers. The careful preparations. The absolute certainty that he would succeed.
And then the fire turning against him.
"Something was wrong..." Wang Tian's voice dropped to a whisper. "The foundational herb... it wasn't..."
His words trailed off into silence. The tremors continued. His eyes slipped closed.
Wang Ben sat back, processing what he'd heard. His father had never spoken about the fall in detail. The shame was too great, the loss too profound. But here, in the depths of pain and cold and fragmented consciousness, old memories were surfacing.
Something was wrong with the herbs.
Wang Ben filed the information away. Another piece of a puzzle he was only beginning to understand.
Outside, the night continued. Inside, the frost spread. And Wang Tian trembled in his bath of ice and possibility, fighting toward a dawn that was still two days away.
The first day ended with the sound of chattering teeth and the steady drip of melting frost, and Wang Ben's quiet voice reading aloud from his father's old alchemy journals. The ones Wang Tian had written before the fall, when he was still a Grade 8 alchemist with the world before him.
Not because his father could hear him.
But because the silence was too heavy to bear alone.
END OF CHAPTER 15