Chapter 8: The Alchemist's Doubt
Lin Tian froze under Yun He's piercing gaze. The elder stood before him like an immovable mountain, the faint heat of his aura pressing down even though no qi technique was being used.
The boy's heart pounded. He wanted to lower his head, to look away, but something told him that to flinch now would only make it worse.
"He's dissecting you like a frog," the Map drawled lazily in his mind. "Every twitch, every breath—you're being catalogued. Don't wobble, boy."
Lin Tian swallowed hard, trying to stand straighter, but his knees still trembled. He forced out a whisper, "Elder, I… I only wanted to help—"
"Quiet." Yun He's voice cut like a blade.
The word alone silenced the mountain path. Not even the evening cicadas dared chirp.
At last, Yun He spoke again, his tone sharp but low.
"That herb you threw… do you even know its name?"
Lin Tian's mouth went dry. "I… don't."
Yun He's eyes narrowed, studying him more intensely. "Then how did you know it belonged in the cauldron?"
"Don't reveal me," the Map snapped quickly. "Say instinct. Mortals devour that word like starving dogs. It soothes their fragile egos."
Lin Tian hesitated, then nodded faintly. "I just… felt it. Like it fit."
The Map snorted. "Pathetic delivery, but acceptable. At least you didn't blurt out the truth."
Yun He frowned, muttering under his breath. His expression flickered between doubt and something else—curiosity, perhaps. But he said nothing more on the matter.
He remembered Sect Leader Fang's words earlier that evening. "Sometimes, Yun He, it's good to stroll the sect. Maybe even take a disciple. You can't bury yourself in smoke and fire forever. Ten years you've been gone from your sect, and still you hide."
Yun He's lips pressed into a thin line. A disciple? He had no desire for such burdens. Yet fate had just shoved a puzzle in front of him, and he was not the type to leave puzzles unsolved.
His gaze returned to Lin Tian.
Instead, he turned away, his robes swaying like falling ink against the path. "Alchemy is not a game. Interfere again, and I will not forgive it."
Lin Tian lowered his head quickly. "Yes, Elder."
The alchemist took two steps before halting again. His back remained to the boy, voice unreadable.
"Tomorrow. Return here at dawn."
But Lin Tian blurted nervously, "Elder, I... I still have duties for the sect. Sweeping, carrying water, errands-"
"No," Yun He cut him off, sharp as a whip. "From now on, you do not need to do that."
He waved his sleeve dismissively, voice heavy but not unkind. "I will speak with the Task Hall myself. Your chores will be reassigned. From today, you are under me."
Lin Tian blinked, startled. His heart skipped a beat.
Yun He stepped closer, eyes sharp.
"You will be my medicine boy. You will handle herbs, prepare ingredients, and learn by my side. If you make mistakes, you will suffer for them. If you endure, you may learn something
Lin Tian blinked, startled. He bowed deeply, words tumbling from his lips. "I will, Elder. Thank you, Elder."
But Yun He was already gone, vanishing into the night like smoke.
The Map sighed inside Lin Tian's head. "Well, congratulations. You survived the beast's glare. Barely."
Lin Tian exhaled slowly, tension draining from his shoulders. "Do you think he's angry?"
"Angry? Intrigued. Which is worse, I haven't decided."
—
Inside the hut, Yun He sat down heavily, staring at the cooled cauldron. His mind would not still.
The boy's words, his unsteady yet oddly certain claim—"I don't feel that any of these herbs belong." That reckless throw of an ingredient not listed in the Organization's perfected recipe.
And yet, the pills. High grade, their sheen undeniable.
His lips pressed together, his mind already turning. Even if it was luck that played the greater hand, just the discovery of a viable variation was already a high achievement. But if this refinement proved consistent—if it could be replicated—then it was more than luck. It was innovation. Perhaps even superiority to the Organization's canon recipe.
For a moment, Yun He's hands trembled. The thought of it—the possibility that a mere servant boy had, by accident, cracked a hidden variation—was absurd. Dangerous, even. And yet, the pills spoke for themselves.
He drew in a slow breath, forcing the storm of thoughts back under control. No. I must test it again. If it was a fluke, so be it. But if not...
His gaze flicked once more to the mountain path where the boy had disappeared. ...then I cannot ignore him.
—
The next morning, mist curled over the mountain paths, dew dripping from pine needles. Lin Tian stood nervously before Yun He's hut, his servant's robe freshly washed, though still patched at the elbows. He had hardly slept—half excitement, half dread twisting in his chest.
The door slid open with a creak. Yun He emerged in plain gray robes, his hair bound simply, no ornament to speak of. His gaze fell on Lin Tian, steady and unreadable.
"You're early," Yun He said. His tone was neither praise nor censure, just fact. "Good. Follow."
Lin Tian trailed after him inside. The hut was dim but smelled richly of herbs, smoke, and faint ash. Bundles of dried stalks hung from the rafters, while shelves sagged under the weight of countless jars and boxes. At the center, the great bronze cauldron sat silent, its surface dulled from years of fire.
Without a word, Yun He picked up a heavy, leather-bound tome from one of the lower shelves and set it down with a thud before Lin Tian. Dust puffed up in a cloud.
"This," Yun He said, his voice steady, "is The Elementary Herbal Codex. Standard issue from the Alchemy Organization. Every apprentice begins here. Every page is the foundation of alchemy—roots, stems, leaves, their properties, their harmonies. Before you sweep ashes, before you touch a pestle, you will read this. All of it."
Lin Tian swallowed hard, staring at the sheer thickness of the book. Its pages were yellowed and dense with cramped diagrams and script. He lifted it with both hands and nearly staggered under its weight.
"Read," Yun He commanded. "Until you can recite it with your eyes closed. Do that, and perhaps you will not disgrace my hut."
The Map's chuckle filled Lin Tian's head. "What an antique. Hah! This book is older than his beard. Very well, boy. Hold it steady—I'll do the heavy lifting."
Lin Tian frowned inwardly. What do you mean?
"Observe."
A golden shimmer spread across his vision, threads of light weaving through the air. The thick tome in his hands seemed to peel open, its pages fluttering one by one without moving. Golden lines sketched themselves across every diagram, every symbol, tracing the roots, veins, and curves of each herb with uncanny precision.
The light gathered, folding inward like a map being rolled, until the entire tome was etched into his mind in flawless detail.
Lin Tian staggered slightly, gasping as if a sudden weight had been pulled from him.
"What—what was that?"
"You've just scanned it, boy," the Map said smugly. "Every page, every stroke of ink, now engraved in your memory. You can forget your servant brain now—you have me."
But Lin Tian noticed something else. His chest felt lighter, drained. That faint golden reservoir he had begun to sense within him—it had dipped.
Primordial Qi: 1.028 (-0.010)
His eyes widened faintly. "You used my qi?"
"Of course I did. Do you think storing the knowledge of thousands of herbs is free?" the Map scoffed. "Consider it an investment. You would have taken years to memorize that drivel. I did it in seconds."
Lin Tian's lips pressed together. "You could have at least asked."
"Would you have refused?"
"…No," Lin Tian admitted reluctantly.
"Then stop whining. Now stand straight. Yun He is watching."
Lin Tian looked up quickly. The elder was staring at him with his usual unreadable gaze, arms folded.
"Why do you stop? Struggling already?" Yun He's tone was sharp, though not cruel.
Lin Tian's heart pounded. He couldn't possibly explain that he already knew every page. Should he pretend to read slowly? Should he lie outright?
"I… I will study it carefully, Elder," he said at last, bowing his head to hide his conflicted expression.
"Good," Yun He said simply, turning away to tend to jars on the shelf.
The Map chuckled again, low and mocking. "So, will you tell him? That you've already devoured his precious Codex?"
Lin Tian sighed silently. If I do, he'll think I'm mocking him. If I don't… I'll have to pretend. Either way, I can't just sit idle.
"Then act," the Map urged slyly. "Pick an herb from the shelf. Test its scent, its feel. Show him you can apply what you 'read.' Let the old man think you're a genius. I'll feed you what you need to say."
Lin Tian's hand hovered uncertainly over the book. His mind raced. For the first time in his life, he held knowledge beyond his years—and he had no idea if speaking it aloud would save him… or doom him.
Lin Tian's fingers traced the thick edge of the Codex, but his mind wasn't on the words. The golden diagrams still hovered faintly behind his eyes, every detail burned into memory. He couldn't just sit there flipping pages for hours—that would look hollow.
The Map's sly voice pressed in. Pick an herb. Any herb. I'll whisper its nature. You can act the prodigy.
Lin Tian's throat tightened. And if I'm wrong?
Then you die of embarrassment instead of poison. Relax. I don't make mistakes.
Before he could argue, Yun He's voice broke the silence.
"Well? Do you plan to stare at the cover all day? Or do you intend to learn something?"
Lin Tian's heart thumped. He rose hesitantly and crossed to one of the shelves, rows upon rows of jars and bundles staring back at him like silent judges. His hand hovered, then finally plucked a small jar filled with shriveled green roots.
He uncorked it and sniffed. A bitter, acrid scent stung his nostrils. He winced.
That's Heartpierce Root, the Map supplied smoothly. Grows in damp valleys. Too much will burst meridians, but a shred tempers fire-based qi. Say that. Carefully.
Lin Tian swallowed, then turned to Yun He, clutching the jar with both hands.
"Elder… this is Heartpierce Root, isn't it? I—I read it can calm fire qi if used sparingly. But… if too much is added, it can break meridians."
His voice cracked slightly at the end, but the words rang true.
Yun He's head lifted slowly from his work. His eyes sharpened, locking onto Lin Tian like hooks. He said nothing for a long moment. Then, softly:
"Continue."
Lin Tian's palms sweated. He nearly dropped the jar. His gaze darted toward another bundle, long thin stalks bound in red twine.
Flametail Grass, the Map prompted instantly. Pairs with Heartpierce. Alone, it fuels fire qi—wild and unstable. With a trace of Heartpierce, it stabilizes. Say it exactly.
Lin Tian licked his lips. "And this one… Flametail Grass. It burns too fast by itself, but… if combined with a touch of Heartpierce Root, the fire steadies."
The words hung in the smoky air.
For the first time, Yun He's expression shifted. His brows twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Where," he asked, his tone low and measured, "did you learn that pairing?"
Lin Tian froze. His mouth opened, then closed.
"I… I don't know. I just… felt it."
The Map groaned. You're overusing that excuse. He'll start thinking you're possessed.
But Yun He did not lash out. Instead, his gaze lingered, weighing, probing. After a long silence, he finally turned away.
"Enough. Put them back. Read more. Tomorrow, I'll test you."
Lin Tian exhaled shakily, relief flooding him as he returned the herbs to their shelves. His heart still pounded, but deep inside, a flicker of pride burned.
The Map chuckled. Not bad, boy. From sweeping floors to lecturing a Core-tier alchemist. At this rate, you'll be insufferable within a month.
Lin Tian smirked faintly, hiding it as he bent over the Codex once more. Let's just make sure I live that long first.