The path up the Alchemy Peak was cleanly paved but surprisingly steep. Han Yu’s robe fluttered behind him as he made his way upward, occasionally catching a glimpse of the sprawling sect behind him whenever he paused for breath.
The early morning mist had already faded from the lower valleys, leaving behind crisp air infused with the faint scent of spirit herbs and the ever-present warmth of medicinal fires.
It was Han Yu’s first time climbing this high on the Alchemy Peak. He was only about a quarter of the way up the mountain, and yet he could already tell that the atmosphere was different.
Everything was quieter. Sharper. More refined.
This wasn’t the public square, where sect errands were conducted or mission boards put up. Nor was it like the Herb Pavilion he’d visited before for ingredients. The outer court of the Alchemy Peak had an air of stern diligence.
Neat rows of buildings spread out across the terrace, each marked by wooden signs in calligraphic script—pill refining halls, storage rooms, test chambers, and lecture pavilions. Disciples came and went quickly, their steps focused and efficient, their robes lightly stained with ash and herb powder. Many of them wore the emblem of the Alchemy Peak on their sleeves—a flame curling around a pill cauldron.
While most disciples of the sect wore the plain uniform robes depending on the ranks, if one had joined a specific peak they could get new robes with the emblem of that peak added to it.
And in the rare case one managed to join more than a single peak, they could either choose to wear the robes of either peak or even get custom robes with both emblems added to it. Looking at the robes, Han Yu couldn’t help but imagine himself wearing them though.
’I’ll certainly look dashing.’ He thought to himself.
Just like the main sect, the peak itself was structured hierarchically: outer court at the base, inner court in the middle, the core levels above that, and the top of the peak reserved only for the highest echelon—elders, peak masters, and select legacy disciples with express permission.
That last part was practically sacred ground. It was said that even the wind flowed quieter up there.
Han Yu made his way to the designated orientation hall—an elegant two-story building made of dark lacquered wood and jade-tiled roofing. A large alchemical cauldron sat in front of the entrance, its surface engraved with arrays that glowed faintly with heat retention and purification runes.
"They put a totally functional cauldron just for display? They’re quite opulent... I like it!" Han Yu was thrilled.
Inside the hall, a single inner court disciple was seated at a reception desk, sorting through scrolls and tokens using a light-blue formation plate. His robe was pristine, and his expression was one of habitual boredom—until he noticed Han Yu walking in.
Han Yu bowed politely. "Greetings, senior brother. I am Han Yu. I’ve come to report for orientation."
The disciple gave a short nod, extending his hand. "Identity token, please."
Han Yu handed it over.
With practiced ease, the inner court disciple placed it on a crystalline formation disc and activated it. Lines of formation light flared, scanning and revealing Han Yu’s records in flickering golden script.
The disciple’s eyes skimmed the usual information: name, age, status—outer court, recently promoted through test exam. All standard.
Until his gaze stopped at a line at the bottom, marked in red-gold script.
"Subject is to be personally guided by Junior Elders Xuan and Zhou. Do not redirect."
The inner court disciple blinked, leaning in slightly. He checked the seal of verification attached—authentic.
"...Huh," he murmured.
He looked back up at Han Yu with a new light in his eyes. "You’re... Han Yu?"
Han Yu raised a brow. "Yes?"
The disciple handed back the token, now a little more respectful in his tone. "Your exam record has a special remark. Seems the elders are taking personal charge of your orientation."
"Is that unusual?" Han Yu asked with practiced innocence.
"Very," the man muttered, almost to himself. "Junior Elder Zhou sometimes checks in on promising disciples... but personally guiding them? That’s rare. Elder Xuan especially doesn’t usually interact unless it’s assessment time."
He studied Han Yu with a little more interest now, as if trying to find the hidden dragon in plain robes.
Still, he didn’t pry further. Instead, he activated a formation with his jade slip and nodded. "I’ve sent word. They’ll be here shortly. Until then, you may take a seat in the waiting hall."
"Thank you, Senior Brother," Han Yu said with another polite bow.
He walked over to the side chamber where cushioned benches and a long table had been set up for guests and initiates. A simple tea set had been placed there, still warm. Han Yu poured himself a cup, taking in the slight medicinal aroma, and sat down.
’Even the complimentary tea is better than what you’d get for a premium cost at some tea houses,’ Han Yu thought to himself.
His mind was calm, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
He hadn’t expected the two elders to go this far.
It seemed his unconventional answers had made more of an impression than he thought.
Outside, he could see faint figures walking the pill paths, revising formulas, muttering to themselves or moving crates of herbs. Occasionally, the air would shimmer with heat as someone activated a flame array. But inside the waiting hall, everything was still.
Han Yu took a slow sip of tea.
Now that the door to the Alchemy Peak had opened, he wasn’t about to walk through it timidly.
This was his first true step as an alchemist—not a dabbler, not a test subject—but one with the potential for greatness.
And with his soul cultivation sharpening his mind, and Li Mei’s rigorous training backing him, Han Yu felt more ready than ever.
Let the cauldron rise.
Let the pills be forged.
And let the Alchemy Peak remember his name.