"I don't care what you all think. With such peerless treasures right before our eyes, if I can manage to keep myself from looking, what kind of alchemist would I even be?"
These veteran alchemists and medical practitioners looked at one another, and everyone could see the excitement in each other's eyes. Their fanaticism for truth ultimately overpowered their fear of the prohibition—besides, this truly was an order from the Divine Might Palace, and that fact substantially diminished the deterrent effect of the ban.
Amidst the silence, someone spoke again:
"My master's allotted lifespan is drawing to a close, and even that heaven-sent prodigy, the Dragon Girl Bailu, could only shake her head and state flatly that she was powerless, leaving us with no choice but to wait for the Ten Lords Bureau to come knocking at any moment. I have to read on; perhaps after thoroughly studying these manuscripts, I can find a way to save him. If all else fails... the worst I can do is throw caution to the wind and directly ask Lady Danshu for guidance. No matter what kind of progress I can ultimately achieve, it will at least count as not failing the bond between master and disciple."
The crowd collectively turned to look at this alchemist in the prime of life, remaining silently wordless.
They were all long-time colleagues, and they actually knew pretty much everything about his situation.
Furthermore, Xianzhou natives placed a particularly heavy emphasis on the bonds between teachers and students.
This was not merely the result of traditional cultural cultivation; more importantly, the amount of knowledge required by long-life species was generally far greater than that needed by short-lived species. Consequently, once someone took on a master, the duration of pursuing the Dao and learning one's craft often far