Back at the Alchemy Peak, the news was beginning to spread beyond just the hall.
Even a few junior elders raised their brows when they received the names of the test results.
"Han Yu..." Elder Zhou murmured as he sipped his tea. "Didn’t I grade his entrance exam with you, Elder Xuan?"
"Oh yes," Xuan replied, placing a crystal file back into a drawer. "The one we thought was a bit crazy."
"Turns out he’s crazy and really good."
The two elders shared a rare laugh.
And so, Han Yu’s name began to climb up the unspoken rankings within the Alchemy Peak—not just in ability, but in presence.
He wasn’t just a promising alchemist anymore.
He was the one to watch.
Han Yu walked casually into the betting shed—the same glorified wooden cabin he had visited just before the test. The crooked "Predictions & Entertainment Division" plaque still hung by a bent nail above the entrance. Its unofficial-ness still as apparent as ever.
Inside, the same skinny, hollow-eyed disciple sat behind the desk, surrounded by ledgers and merit tokens. His foot was anxiously tapping the floor, and he looked like he hadn’t slept properly since the end of the exam.
As soon as Han Yu stepped in, the disciple’s eyes twitched.
"You..." he whispered, staring as though a ghost had entered.
Han Yu flashed a small smile and tapped the counter."I believe I have a winning token to redeem."
The disciple sighed deeply and took out the locked merit token register. He didn’t argue, didn’t plead, and didn’t even try to stall. It was one of the ironclad rules of the "entertainment committee"—a privately-run but widely tolerated betting ring backed by some elders who turned a blind eye for a cut.
If a bet was legit, the payout had to be made. No exceptions.
He retrieved Han Yu’s branded merit token, scanned it with a jade formation disc, and after a few moments, the number 300,000 flashed in bright gold.
Reluctantly, with a dramatic sigh, the disciple handed over the token.
"You know," he muttered bitterly, "we’ve had people cheat the odds before, but never win . You just walked in, bet big, and casually took it all."
Han Yu took the token with a chuckle, flicked it once for dramatic effect, and said,"Well, I did bet on the surest bet possible: myself."
The disciple groaned like he’d just been stabbed.
While Han Yu had a fortune in his palm
Walking out into the open sunlight with 300,000 merit points, Han Yu didn’t just feel wealthier—he felt unshackled.
This was no longer the realm of merely affording herbs and paying for room rentals. He now had the means to access high-tier alchemical ingredients and initiate rare transactions—things that only the sect’s elites usually even dreamed of.
And more importantly... it meant progress.
He pulled out his notebook and opened the "Undying Life Charm" section. The materials needed were neatly listed, each ingredient meticulously annotated with availability, legality, and cost.
Spirit Anchor Iron – Not illegal but still nearly impossible to find through legal channels.Spirit-Forged Bone Shard – A restricted material, made from bones of dead experts. Utterly illegal.Three-Cycle Soul Grass – Legal, but absurdly expensive. 1.2 million merit points, if found.Moonshadow Lotus – Practically myth. No active listings in the sect. Only collectors or hermits would possibly own one. It was the single hardest ingredient to find and also what most Nascent Soul experts died before ever finding.
He sighed. "Three out of four. Still better than none."
Over the past month, Han Yu’s popularity as a tutor had brought him into contact with disciples from every layer of the Alchemy Peak.
Not all of them were diligent or righteous, and a few were more than eager to whisper interesting names and contacts in exchange for a discount on tutoring sessions.
One such contact was a girl named Mu Yuning, a perpetually sleepy-eyed inner court disciple with an interest in "unofficial pharmacology." She had long since stopped attending formal lectures, claiming they were too "loud and judgmental."
It was Mu Yuning who had first mentioned that the Black Moth Pavilion—a hidden alchemist-run trading group—might be able to help him.
Han Yu reached her small courtyard late that evening. She was in the middle of painting spirit runes on dried fungus slices, humming a ghostly tune.
"You’re here for the goods?" she said without looking up.
Han Yu sat down. "Spirit Anchor Iron. Spirit-Forged Bone Shard. I need them both."
She paused for a moment before replying, "You’re not planning to create anything that’ll explode the peak, right?"
"No more than usual," he said.
"The Bone Shard’s easier. The Pavilion keeps a few on hand since it’s useful for death qi inhibitors we need for maintaining some corpse and organs. Spirit Anchor Iron’s trickier, but... I know a guy. He’s paranoid, though. Won’t meet anywhere near the sect."
Han Yu nodded. "I’ll pay the price. Set it up."
Having said that he made his way back home.
That night, back in his own courtyard, Han Yu sat cross-legged with Chitterfang curled up beside him like a loaf of bread. A grey moldy loaf of bread though.
He stared at the silver shimmer of his new badge, etched with "Intermediate Alchemist", and beside it sat the black-marked token Mu Yuning had given him. This one would allow him to pass the wards and find the hidden trading site deep in the outer ridge of the sect.
He had the confidence, the skills, and now the funds.
But there were still hurdles.
The Three-Cycle Soul Grass remained a towering wall. With his current earnings, even with tutoring and pill profits combined, it would take at least a year or more to raise the funds—unless he struck some legendary commission or stumbled upon a miracle.
And the Moonshadow Lotus?
Forget cost. It couldn’t even be found in circulation. He would either have to find a suitable replacement or just compensate for it with more herbs and spirit stones. The latter was something he could do by long term accumulation.