Typical Occurence

Yechen passed the first round without the slightest problem. On the other hand, many of the alchemists failed to prevent their chosen item from being damaged or destroyed by the flames of the furnace. Some of the eliminees had not been bad at all at controlling their furnaces, but they had simply lacked the expertise to gauge the quality of the item they picked out.

Of course, the young alchemist could bypass such expertise thanks to his special skill. The furnace part, however, had all depended on his very own skills–And he had absolutely crushed it, immediately setting himself apart from the rest.

He could already feel the jealous, resentful glares of the other competitor drilling into the back of his head. He also spotted several of the round’s losers being scolded by their masters for their disgraceful displays. Somehow, though, these masters also seemed to hold Yechen responsible.

‘I am literally just participating like everyone else! No need to be so butthurt over nothing…’

Yechen ignored the stares for now. It was time for the second round of the tournament.

The underground’s owner announced that it would be about preparing the most basic Pill of Inferior Healing.

It was a kind of pill usually produced in bulk and sold mostly to dirt-poor cultivators, or common folks, at prices far too high for what it was worth. No actual cultivators would want to buy these, apart from very specific cases.

Being able to produce this pill was the basics of the basics for alchemists, and since every alchemist knew the most common recipe better than they knew their own names, it was the one chosen for this round.

The goal was simple: Make as many of them as possible within thirty minutes. It sounded easy enough on paper, but they were being observed by competent alchemists who would note down everything they did.

There was more to this challenge than mindlessly churning out inferior pills. The quality of the pill mattered. Even dog water pills needed to meet a certain threshold. Otherwise, they would just be trash pills to be fed to beasts that did not care in the least about what they were eating.

The technique also mattered. With such pills, one was supposed to be capable of making a large batch of them in a single go… And of course, the consumption of materials was important.

Several crates filled with Lesser Recovery Herbs were wheeled onto the stage.

This particular kind of herb was the only actual ingredient. The rest was just the basic stuff that was nearly always added to make the pill compact and solid.

Yechen would need to juggle all of these conditions at once.

First, however, he scanned the crates and their contents. Once again, having a discerning eye was of great importance. By picking the higher-quality herbs, he would guarantee himself to be on top in terms of quality–As long as he didn’t mess up with the furnace.

The second round began, and Yechen grabbed armfuls of Lesser Recovery Herbs, carefully calculating the maximum amount of herbs he could put into the furnace at once without risking overloading it.

From an unknowing outsider’s perspective, what he was doing seemed random, almost nonsensical. It looked this way to most of the audience, but the more knowledgeable people present did their own calculations and realised that Yechen was attempting something an alchemist of his age should have basically no chances of pulling off successfully.

Yet, he did. Several times in a row, too.

Yechen brought out the maximum amount of pills this furnace could spit out every single time, doing so for the entirety of the thirty minutes, staying absolutely focused the entire time, much to the dismay of his competitors.

When the judges examined the batches provided by the participants, they were astonished by the quality of each of Yechen’s pills. They were all incredible–At least, incredible as far as such trashy pills could get.

Despite the risky manoeuvre he had executed, the pills were better than those of all of his competitors who had opted for safer methods.

It went without saying that Yechen was going to participate in the third and final round with only three other young alchemists–Three young men whom Yechen frankly had no idea who they were. He had been hanging around this city for a little while, but had never seen them, not even once.

He supposed that they had been training for the tournament or simply came from somewhere else. The only thing he knew was that all of them were not very fond of him.

‘Those guys need to settle down with their whatever complex. It isn’t the end of the world to meet someone better than you… Well, maybe they’re mad because their masters will kick their asses if they lose to me–Who is a masterless nobody–But still!’

The third round was also rather simple. It was basically the same thing, but about making one complicated pill for their skill level.

It was a ‘Blood-Pumping Pill’. For beginners, it was a complicated pill to make, but for more experienced alchemists, it was a rather common one. It is a pill made from Blood-Drunk Grass and Savage Bone Dust, inducing increased physical strength for a limited amount of time.

They had one hour to make it.

Yechen once again selected the best resources from the batch and went to work. He focused intently on the task at hand, barely blinking as he stared into the flames of the furnace, constantly making minuscule adjustments to the heat of the fire... Moving the pill that was slowly being formed within, making sure that it was properly heated everywhere.

While his adversaries and their masters were absolutely seething, the judges were quite impressed, all of them thinking about recruiting Yechen. After all, if he was this good and dedicated while being what seemed to be a self-taught alchemist, then who could imagine what height he could reach with proper funding and guidance?

Alchemy inheritances were difficult to pass on unless one agreed to let their work and discoveries feed the wealth of knowledge owned by a clan or sect. Otherwise, if one wanted to keep the knowledge within their family, it required an offspring with talent and willingness.

Unfortunately, the allure of more typical cultivation usually won over the seemingly boring alchemy.

As such, disciples were often treated like descendants and tasked with keeping the inheritance safe and passing it on themselves eventually.

Regardless, the one hour quickly passed. One of the other contestants–Who had clearly been unfamiliar with the pill recipe–Failed halfway through and was promptly eliminated. He was fine, though. It seemed like his ‘master’ was actually his mother, so she just comforted him about his loss.

Another one presented a rather… Burnt-looking pill. It still functioned as intended, but appearances mattered when selling something people were supposed to eat.

As for the third one… He did quite good. But alas, Yechen completely eclipsed his impressive work, presenting an absolutely stunning Blood-Pumping Pill.

“There is no way you can be that well on every challenge! You must have cheated!”

‘Ah crap… Here we go again…’