Chapter Seventy-Four: Rising Straight to Two Cauldrons

Damn it, the power outage lasted past seven tonight, and I have no idea what happened. The traffic on the road was longer than a train. I really don’t know what the power company is doing—I paid my electricity bill. So frustrating...

The alchemy assessment ticked away, every minute and second passing. As time wore on, more and more participants failed, unable to control the heat, burning all their herbs to ash, and so had to leave the arena in defeat. Now, only eleven people remained, including Lu Zhe. Among them, the royal third princess and the silver-haired woman named Roya still held on.

Minutes slipped by, and two more were forced to leave, unable to master the flames. Lu Zhe glanced at the hourglass on the stage: two-thirds of the sand had already fallen. He had but one third of the time left.

Lu Zhe poured all his soul power into the task, watching the state of the pills within the cauldron without rest. He had already refined five herbs, and if he could refine the one currently in the cauldron, he would be ready for the final and most difficult step: fusing the pill.

Lu Zhe was sweating profusely, his hands gripping the cauldron tightly. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, soaking his collar and back.

As he worked, the herb in the cauldron slowly withered, as though its moisture had been wrung dry. With the input of his spiritual power and careful control, the herb shriveled and curled in on itself, then under the rolling flames, turned into a cluster of powder.

“Done,” Lu Zhe whispered to himself with a long breath of relief as he watched the herb become powder.

But in that moment of relaxation, his attention slipped. He failed to control the heat with his soul power, and the flames surged, instantly burning the refined powder to nothing.

Lu Zhe’s heart leapt in alarm. He hastily tried to lower the temperature, but it was too late—what remained in his mind was nothing but a charred mess.

“Damn it,” Lu Zhe cursed to himself, then waved his hand to sweep the scorched remains out through the waste channel.

He steadied his mind, inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly to calm himself. He glanced at the remaining herbs on the table, picked up one identical to the one he’d just ruined, and placed it in the cauldron. He drew a deep breath and began again.

This time, Lu Zhe focused all his attention. He didn’t dare allow even the slightest distraction. His previous misjudgment had cost him five herbs—he counted them. Now, he barely had enough left for a single pill. He was truly at the end of his rope.

Sweat beaded on his brow, his breath quickened, and his soul power surged into the cauldron as he concentrated on the herbs tumbling in the fire.

The flames licked the herbs, which withered, then finally turned to powder.

“Rise!” Lu Zhe shouted, striking the cauldron’s side. The powder, guided by his soul power, floated free and landed in a prepared bottle on the table.

He let out a long sigh, utterly spent, as if all strength had left his body.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Lu Zhe glanced at the hourglass—less than a quarter of the sand remained. He had only one chance at fusing the pill.

He drew a deep breath, looked at the neatly arranged bottles before him, and quickly poured them in order into the cauldron. It was time for the most crucial step: the fusion.

All of Lu Zhe’s soul power surged into the cauldron. He watched intently as the liquids and powders began to merge.

Outside, Oldes watched Lu Zhe with a furrowed brow, stroking his white beard. Behind him, a middle-aged man stood respectfully, holding a roster.

After a moment, Oldes inhaled and exhaled quietly, saying nothing but keeping his eyes fixed on Lu Zhe.

The middle-aged man couldn’t contain his curiosity and stepped forward, asking, “Vice President, is something wrong?”

Oldes glanced at him, smiled, and replied, “I see a promising talent.”

“Is it that Lu Zhe boy?” the man asked.

Oldes nodded with a smile. “Yes. Add him to the key cultivation list.”

The man hesitated. “That... may not be appropriate. Only the President himself can approve entry to the key cultivation list.”

Oldes raised his brow. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to that old fellow. You just do your part.”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied.

Oldes nodded and went back to watching Lu Zhe.

Lu Zhe was now absolutely unmoving, as if thunder could not shake him. His eyes were tightly closed, brow furrowed, sweat trickling down his face and dripping onto the floor.

Inside the cauldron, the pill ingredients were slowly fusing under his soul power. With his adjustments, the liquids and powders mingled and blended thoroughly.

The fusion was complete, leaving only the final step—the watershed moment: forming the pill. Why call it a watershed? Simple—if you succeed, you’ve made the pill. If you fail, all your efforts are wasted and you’re back to the start.

Lu Zhe’s hands on the cauldron trembled with tension. With careful control, the blended liquids and powders began to take shape—a pill was about to be born.

He dared not relax, increasing his focus and soul power. The pill began to spin slowly, drawing in the remaining unmixed ingredients. A faint medicinal fragrance began to waft out.

Suddenly, Lu Zhe’s eyes flew open. He slapped the cauldron sharply. The cauldron rang with a resonant hum, the lid shot into the air, and a brown light soared upward, arcing gracefully through the air and landing in Lu Zhe’s palm.

He sniffed the pill, and finally, a smile broke through his tense expression.

Soon after, the others finished their pills as well, but when Lu Zhe looked around, fewer than ten remained. Becoming an alchemist was no easy feat.

He placed his pill in a bottle and handed it to a waiting maid, who collected all the pills on a tray, labeled them, and brought them to the elder at the head of the room.

The elder accepted the tray with a smile, opening each bottle in turn to sniff the contents.

He smiled at the first three, but when he reached the fourth, his brow furrowed in displeasure. He lifted the bottle and demanded, “Who made this?”

The person to Lu Zhe’s left answered, “It was me.”

“What is this? Poison? Is this fit for human consumption? Not only will it not heal, it would likely make things worse. You’re disqualified. Leave at once.” Oldes was clearly dissatisfied, scolding the contestant thoroughly.

Muttering under his breath, the man left the hall.

Oldes steadied himself and resumed smelling the remaining bottles. When he reached Lu Zhe’s, he frowned again, sniffed it more closely, then lifted the bottle. “Whose is this?”

Lu Zhe’s heart skipped a beat—did something go wrong?—but he replied, “It’s mine.”

The elder set the bottle down, stroked his beard, and seemed to ponder for a long moment. At last, he asked, “Who is your master?”

Lu Zhe hesitated, thinking, “Why ask that?” but he answered, “My master has lived in seclusion for many years and instructed me not to reveal his name. As his disciple, I dare not disobey.”

He spoke the truth. Before leaving, Master Yi had warned him repeatedly—never reveal his name if asked, or trouble might follow.

“I see,” Oldes said, stroking his beard. “I won’t force you. But I am very curious to know who could teach such an outstanding disciple. The Healing Pill you crafted is the finest I have ever seen.”

A murmur of admiration swept through the crowd. All eyes turned to Lu Zhe, not least the thirteenth princess Yao Meng and the cold beauty Roya. In Roya’s gaze, however, there seemed to be a trace of envy.

Oldes continued to inspect the remaining pills. At last, he stood straight, stroked his white beard, and smiled. “Congratulations. You are all now recognized as alchemists.”

The hall erupted in cheers. Even the icy Roya allowed a faint smile to touch her lips.

Amid the celebration, Lu Zhe raised his hand. Oldes noticed and frowned slightly, puzzled. “Yes? Is there something you need?”

“Excuse me, where do I take the dual-cauldron alchemist’s test?” Lu Zhe asked calmly.

A sudden hush fell over the hall. Even Oldes and the middle-aged man were momentarily lost for words.

“What did you say?” Oldes asked in surprise.

“Where is the exam for the dual-cauldron alchemist?” Lu Zhe repeated.

A wave of astonishment swept through the hall. All eyes, including those of Oldes and the middle-aged man, were fixed on Lu Zhe.

Feeling uncomfortable under their stares, Lu Zhe scratched his head. “Is... is it not allowed?”

Oldes recovered quickly. “It’s allowed, it’s allowed.” He paused, whispered a few words to the man behind him, then turned back with a broad smile. “If you want to take the dual-cauldron exam, you need to go to the next room.”

“Oh,” said Lu Zhe, and made to leave.

Oldes stepped down and joined Lu Zhe. “I’ll go with you.”

With that, the two of them pushed open the door to the next room.

Everyone in the hall stared in shock. Only Roya, the icy beauty, frowned slightly as she gazed at the door.

A long while later, Lu Zhe and Oldes emerged. Lu Zhe was all smiles, and though Oldes looked astonished, his face was wreathed in delight.

Seeing the crowd gathered outside, Oldes cleared his throat and announced, “This young friend Lu Zhe has passed the dual-cauldron alchemist’s test, becoming the youngest dual-cauldron alchemist in the Omega Empire since its founding!”

The hall was stunned into silence.

Without waiting for their reactions, Oldes turned to Lu Zhe and said, “Come with me to the study on the top floor—someone wishes to see you.”

“Who?” Lu Zhe asked, puzzled.

“Our president, Mr. Bai Wenbo,” Oldes replied softly, naming the most renowned figure among all alchemists in the Omega Empire.