Alchemy Peak was one of the most selective factions in the Twin Leaf Peak Sect. Every disciple who joined was thoroughly tested, evaluated for their spiritual flame affinity, pill sense, theoretical knowledge, and more.
The entrance exam wasn’t something you could bluff through.
You either had talent, skill, or extreme luck.
In Han Yu’s case, he had... a bit of all three, but whether that was enough remained to be seen.
Still, he wasn’t discouraged.
If anything, the thought of finally picking up the path he’d once dreamed of gave him a sense of clarity he hadn’t felt in a long time.
"I’ve been running from one crisis to the next for too long. It’s time I started building something. Alchemy... Soul Qi... power that’s mine."
And let’s not forget—becoming a real alchemist didn’t just bring prestige and skill.
It brought connections.
Alchemists were some of the most sought-after cultivators in any sect. Everyone needed pills: for healing, for cultivation, for breakthroughs, for poison resistance, for stabilizing realms.
If Han Yu could ascend as a proper alchemist, he’d gain not just resources—but leverage.
He’d be courted by disciples, elders, even faction leaders.
And in a sect where power and reputation mattered, leverage was everything.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"First step... talk to Li Mei."
He had no intention of jumping into the Alchemy Peak’s exams blind. If anyone could give him guidance—and maybe a few explosions to dodge—it was her.
She might even let him train in one of her private pill rooms if he promised to be her next "resilience test subject."
Han Yu groaned again.
"I swear, if she tries to make me swallow another pill that makes me float for three hours, I’m feeding her, her own tea."
Still, he stood up, dusting off his robes and stretching his limbs.
A new direction. A new purpose.
No more just dancing in the shadows. No more living reaction to reaction.
It was time to chase something for himself.
And if that something happened to come with flame-scorched robes, explosive pill testing, and the occasional nervous breakdown from trying to stabilize a boiling cauldron?
That was the price of ambition.
"Time to become an alchemist."
Han Yu stepped lightly over the wooden threshold of Li Mei’s pill refining hut, the soft scent of scorched herbs and sweet spiritual incense wafting into his nose the moment he entered. The small structure, nestled on the far edge of the Outer Court like an eccentric hermit’s den, was quiet save for the crackle of flames and the faint bubbling within a pill cauldron.
He paused at the doorway.
Li Mei stood in front of her cauldron, sleeves tied back, her figure illuminated by the flickering light of a controlled Flame Array inscribed beneath the platform. Her long hair was pinned up messily, a few strands having slipped free and clinging to her sweat-dappled cheek. Her brow furrowed, her pupils narrow and sharp, her entire focus directed at the furnace in front of her.
Her hands moved with practiced precision—measuring with a flick of her wrist, adjusting the fire’s intensity with two fingers, tilting her head to listen for the faint hiss of a particular reaction. The copper-colored cauldron glowed gently at its base, spiritual runes pulsing with warmth.
Han Yu was about to announce himself, raising a hand and opening his mouth—
His eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of her face in profile.
Serene. Focused. Unwavering.
She looked... unexpectedly cute like that.
There was no trace of her usual mischief. No mocking smirk, no teasing glint in her eyes. Just the look of a true craftsman, lost in the act of creation. It was the kind of concentration that most cultivators struggled to maintain even in meditation, and yet she wore it effortlessly, like a second skin.
Han Yu felt an odd warmth settle in his chest.
Then, as if catching himself drifting too far into dangerous territory, he let out a quiet huff and crossed his arms.
"Focus, Han Yu," he muttered to himself. "You’re here for alchemy, not to stare like a fool."
Still, he knew better than to interrupt her now.
From the sound of the bubbling and the faint, high-pitched crackling, she was deep into the herbal essence extraction phase—a point in the pill refining process that required near-perfect concentration and absolute control of the flame. One misstep and the entire concoction could backfire... sometimes violently.
He still remembered the time she’d nearly melted the roof off this hut with an overexcited burst of alchemical flame. He’d laughed. She’d laughed. Then she’d tried to feed him a pill that made him hiccup flame for three hours.
So now? Now he just watched.
He quietly walked to a corner of the room, pulled over an old, cushionless stool, and sat down, legs crossed, as still as he could manage. His spiritual sense lightly scanned the flow of Qi in the room, gently tracing the stream of essence she channeled into the cauldron.
Time passed slowly in the alchemist’s hut.
One minute stretched into ten. Ten into thirty. And before he knew it, an hour had passed.
Still, Li Mei remained locked in place, hands raised in a fluid series of mudras as she directed the fire in a precise rhythm. The cauldron glowed brighter now, the spiritual runes etched into its bronze surface shining with steady heat.
Han Yu narrowed his eyes. That sound—he recognized it.
"She’s vaporizing the remnant impurities," he realized.
This was the final purification step before condensing the herbal essence into pill form. A mistake here would lead to unstable pill core formation—or worse, an explosion.
It was then that he noticed something else.
Li Mei’s Qi was completely harmonious with the flame. Her control, her breathing, even the minute shifts of her feet on the floor—everything was timed. She wasn’t just using a Flame Array.
She was dancing with it.
Han Yu’s appreciation for her skill deepened. This wasn’t the wild, pill bomb-throwing maniac he’d seen so many times. This was a real alchemist, one who had earned her place here.