"Just promise me you'll come back alive."
A rare seriousness flashed across Jin Bao's eyes. "I will, Mother."
For once, there was no joke waiting to follow. Tonight, he wasn't the playful young master of a merchant clan, chasing an easy, comfortable existence. He was a youth finally ready to step onto the path of cultivation in earnest, whatever it cost him.
In a distant shared courtyard, moonlight drifted across twin silhouettes sitting quietly on the pavilion steps. Yu Lianxue exhaled a long breath while Yu Lianyan hugged her knees and stared up at the sky, both of them having remained silent for a long while already.
At last, Yu Lianyan spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "We will see him again, right?"
Yu Lianxue turned to her, meeting her sister's anxious gaze directly. She took Yu Lianyan's hand and held it tightly, and using every bit of conviction she could summon, nodded. "Yes. We will."
Yu Lianyan bit her lip, but the simple reassurance softened some of the tension still lingering behind her eyes. Silence returned between them, gentler and warmer than it had been a moment before.
Lianxue's gaze drifted slowly across the courtyard, soft and distant, her thoughts clearly somewhere else entirely. "Our goal here is almost complete," she whispered. "We should return soon."
Her eyes darkened, emotions shifting beneath the surface. "Who would have thought we would meet him again here?"
Neither spoke after that. But both understood the truth. Their paths were about to diverge once more.
The moment Mo Xuan stepped into Han Long's courtyard, the old man's eyes opened slowly. He studied Mo Xuan from head to toe, observing his spirit with a knowing gaze. Finally, Han Long nodded in satisfaction.
"Turning misfortune into fortune."
Mo Xuan cupped his fists. "Master, I came because I want to venture out. But before that, I wish to study alchemy properly. I hope to receive your guidance."
Han Long snorted. "About time." He set his flask aside — an unusual gesture, signalling he intended to take this conversation seriously. "You're smart."
"You're cunning."
"But you lack one thing."
"Edge."
Mo Xuan remained silent, attentive.
"You want to temper yourself?" Han Long pointed north. "Then go to the Northern Border. Join the army."
Mo Xuan lifted a brow.
"The Northern Border will temper you, and its mountains are full of herbs for alchemy." Han Long shrugged. "Two birds, one stone."
Mo Xuan nodded slowly, turning the suggestion over in his mind.
Han Long smirked. "One more thing." He leaned forward. "A true cultivator grows by walking at the edge of death. If you want to defy the heavens, you must learn to survive without leaning on external power. Only the strength you forge yourself is truly yours."
Mo Xuan lowered his head respectfully. "I understand."
Han Long picked up his flask again. "Need an alchemy cauldron?"
"No, Master."
Han Long burst into laughter. "Good. You learn fast."
Mo Xuan's mouth twitched. What he actually wanted to say was that he already had one from the secret realm, but he kept the thought carefully to himself.
Han Long waved a hand, and Mo Xuan cupped his fists once more before turning and leaving the courtyard.
The next day.
When Mo Xuan entered the beginner alchemy classroom, he found something unexpected waiting. The room was already full — but not with new alchemy students. It was packed with female disciples, beautiful ones from every peak of the sect. As soon as he entered, dozens of heads turned simultaneously.
Whispers erupted immediately.
"Th-that's Mo Xuan!"
"He's even more handsome in person!"
"Is he seriously taking alchemy?!"
"Is... is he smiling? He's smiling, right?!"
"But not at you, right?"
The instructor froze mid-gesture, an herbal diagram still clutched in one hand. Ignoring the uproar breaking out around him, Mo Xuan settled into his seat, his expression calm as still water.
A girl fainted somewhere near the back.
The instructor finally snapped out of it and struck the teaching desk sharply. "A-hem! Quiet down! This is an alchemy class, not a matchmaking pavilion."
Still, the soft murmurs never fully ceased. Mo Xuan ignored them and focused on the lesson. When the instructor began explaining the basics of fire control, he memorised every word without effort. When she demonstrated herb patterns on the board, he analysed their structure almost instantly. Having already studied the Alchemy Atlas from the secret realm, and with his consciousness breakthrough enhancing his perception, his mind now processed and analysed everything faster than it ever had before.
Up in the rafters, unseen by the room below, Han Long watched with a lazy grin. "This brat might just surprise the entire continent."
The beginner alchemy hall buzzed with excitement every morning after that. Usually, such noise revolved around new herbs, failed flame control, or some unlucky student accidentally scorching an expensive ingredient. Today, it revolved around one person entirely.
Word had already spread: Mo Xuan was attending alchemy again today! The hall grew so crowded that even outer-hall girls slipped in, claiming they "wanted to learn the medicinal path" with a straight face that fooled absolutely no one. The instructor stood at the front, smiling stiffly, clearly overwhelmed by the sudden surge of interest in what had, until recently, been one of the quieter classes in the sect.
Mo Xuan entered. Instant silence.
Then—
"Waaaah! He's here again! This is the second week, and he hasn't missed a class!"
"He's really serious about alchemy! So dedicated... so handsome!"
"Shh! Don't scare him away!"
The former Jin Bao would have thrived in this exact kind of chaos. Fortunately for Mo Xuan's dignity, unfortunately for the class's sanity, he wasn't here to make it worse.
Mo Xuan nodded at the teacher and took his seat. The faintest curve of his lips made a girl two rows back clutch her chest dramatically.
"He smiled at me..."
The instructor cleared her throat, doing her best to reclaim control of the room. "Since many of you are new to alchemy—" She picked up a piece of white chalk and wrote four characters across the board. Herb. Flame. Cauldron. Mind.
"Herbs provide possibility. The flame provides transformation. The cauldron provides stability." She tapped the final word. "The mind provides control."
The class continued, and by midday, every student had received a small practice cauldron. The instructor clapped loudly for attention. "Today, we begin practical refinement. Each of you will attempt a basic Spirit-Calming Pill. Explosions are normal, as this is your first try — but please avoid levelling the classroom."
Mo Xuan placed his cauldron on the platform and lit the flame beneath it, steadying his breath as he guided a gentle fire into place. Around him, herbs were tossed in haphazardly, flames flared unevenly, and smoke spiralled upward as disciples struggled through the same basics he was working through with visibly more ease.
Herb by herb, Mo Xuan's movements stayed smooth and precise, his control clearly a cut above everyone else attempting the same recipe around him. The instructor blinked, quietly impressed. Nice control.
Then Mo Xuan made a single subtle mistake, one only an experienced alchemist would have caught in time — he compressed the medicinal essence too tightly.
A faint tremor ran through the cauldron. "...Hmm?"
A tiny cracking sound echoed.
The instructor's eyes widened. "Wait—"
BOOOOOM!
A protective formation flashed to life just in time to keep the explosion contained, sparing the room from any real damage. A brilliant plume of smoke shot upward, a mild shockwave rippling outward across the hall. Disciples shrieked and ducked for cover. Dust rained down like powdered snow settling over every surface.
And Mo Xuan? He stood there, perfectly still, covered head to toe in soot, his hair blown slightly upward from the blast, yet his posture remained upright and his expression calm — like an elegant statue that had simply been given a charcoal finish.
The room froze.
Then someone squealed.
The rest followed like a dam breaking.
"Ahhh! Even with his cauldron exploded, he looks so graceful!"
"He didn't even flinch!"
"Look! Look! Even the soot can't hide his aura!"
"He looks... smouldering."
"Literal smouldering."
The one lone guy in the room scoffed loudly. "Tch. What's so impressive about not crying after a pill blow-up? Anyone with thick skin can—"
A girl beside him elbowed him so hard he nearly coughed blood mid-sentence. "How dare you talk about Senior Brother like that!"
The instructor sighed inwardly. Why is this turning into a fan club meeting?
Mo Xuan touched his cheek, feeling the layer of soot coating it, and exhaled. "...It seems I compressed the energies too tightly," he said, pulling out a napkin to begin cleaning himself off without any visible embarrassment.
The instructor hurried over. "You refined too steadily. Beginners shouldn't attempt to suppress medicinal essence too much with pure spiritual sense — it builds pressure unevenly inside the cauldron."
Mo Xuan bowed slightly. "Thank you for the guidance."
He brought out a new cauldron. Still dusted in soot, he began again without fanfare or complaint. This time, his flame burned gentler. His spiritual sense pressed lighter. His control eased into something more patient than his first attempt.
The room hushed in anticipation, dozens of eyes tracking his every movement.
Minutes passed. Then—
Ding.
A faint sound. A small, pale-blue pill rolled gently to rest at the base of the cauldron, a clean medicinal fragrance filling the air around it almost immediately.
The instructor stiffened. "That's... nearly high-grade quality. On your second try?"
Whispers surged through the room instantly.
"He's a monster..."
"Success on the second attempt..."
"Senior Brother is too powerful!"