Alright, Professor

If the previous classes had filled the Gryffindor rookies with novelty and excitement for the wizarding world, making them feel like the future was bright.

Then, the first class on Wednesday morning was like a basin of ice water, drawn from the dungeons for three days and nights, poured unceremoniously over their heads, giving them a premature taste of the cruel beatings from the magical society.

Potions class.

The very sound of its location came with a dark filter—the underground classroom.

The path to the underground classroom was dark and long. They spiraled down the stone steps, feeling like they were on an ancient tomb exploration.

The walls on either side of the corridor were cold and damp, and the air was filled with a pungent smell mixed with mold, dust, and formaldehyde, causing their sanity to drop.

When they finally found the classroom and pushed open the heavy wooden door, a stronger chill rushed at them. Everyone couldn't help but shiver, feeling like they had been debuffed with "Weakness."

This place was less a classroom and more like a perverted mad scientist's specimen storage room.

The room was large, but the lighting was terrible.

A few floating green candles cast shadows that stretched like ghosts.

Along the walls were rows of large glass jars, filled with various colored viscous liquids containing all sorts of bizarre things.

Floating eyeball octopuses, curled-up hairy spiders, and some grotesque monsters with wings and claws that Harry couldn't even name.

The atmosphere of the entire room was overwhelmingly oppressive, eerie, and ominous.

The Gryffindor students and Slytherin students sat down on opposite sides, clearly divided.

Malfoy and his cronies had smug, cold smiles on their faces, as if this was their home turf.

The Gryffindor students, on the other hand, were like little lambs who had wandered into a wolf den, fidgeting and not daring to breathe too loudly.

The blackboard was inscribed with today's lesson in a flamboyant script—"Scab Treatment Potion."

"Where's the professor?" Harry whispered nervously to Ron.

"Shh—" Ron made a shushing gesture, his face paler than the wall.

Just then, in the thickest shadow at the deepest part of the classroom, a figure appeared without warning.

He didn't walk out; he seemed to have condensed from the darkness itself.

He wore a pure black robe, the hem of which glided silently along the floor as he walked, like a giant bat hunting on the ground.

Greasy shoulder-length black hair hung down the sides of his sallow cheeks, paired with that iconic aquiline nose. The entire person exuded a "Don't bother me" kind of harsh aura.

What was most unsettling were his eyes.

They were a pair of pitch-black eyes devoid of any warmth. When he looked at you, you couldn't sense any emotion, only a cold void that could see through your thoughts.

He was Severus Snape, the Potions professor at Hogwarts and the Head of Slytherin House.

"Here, there will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations."

His voice was not loud, but it was like a cold snake, precisely drilling into everyone's ears. It was a deliberately lowered, hissing whisper that made people's skin crawl.

"Therefore, I do not expect you to understand the subtle and rigorous science and art of potion-making, of liquid and gas refinement."

His gaze slowly swept across the classroom, and every first-year student he looked at instinctively flinched.

"Here, you will learn to control your minds and calm your emotions. You will learn how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even… stop death."

He paused, letting the tempting words linger in the air.

Lin Yuan's ears twitched slightly.

Bottle fame, brew glory... he didn't care about those.

But "stop death"—those four words hit his sweet spot precisely.

Immortality was his sole pursuit since his transmigration.

In this world of thin Spiritual Energy and blocked Great Way, any knowledge related to "life" and "death" was a subject he had to conquer.

This professor, who looked like the final boss, seemed to... hold the key.

Just as Lin Yuan was silently raising Snape's threat level, Snape's gaze finally landed on Harry Potter.

"Potter," he suddenly said, his voice filled with undisguised hostility, "our newest... celebrity."

Harry's heart sank, sensing something was wrong.

"Tell me, what would happen if I added powdered narcissus root to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry's brain instantly crashed.

Narcissus root? Wormwood? What were those? He looked to Ron for help, but Ron was just as clueless.

However, Hermione, next to him, shot her hand up as if she had pressed an eject button, trembling slightly in her chair with excitement.

Snape completely ignored her, his black eyes fixed on Harry's face.

"Don't know? Very well, let's try again." He continued in a drawn-out, mocking tone, "So, Potter, if I asked you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?"

Hermione's hand rose even higher, so eager she was almost standing up from her chair.

Snape still didn't look at her, as if she were invisible.

"I... I don't know, sir." Harry's voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum.

"It seems fame isn't everything," Snape said softly, his voice dripping with disdain.

"One last question, Potter. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

This time, Hermione was already standing, waving her hand frantically in the air, letting out an eager "I know! I know!"

"I... I don't know, sir," Harry lowered his head, so embarrassed he wished he could die on the spot.

"A pity, a true pity," Snape shook his head slowly. "Clearly, before coming to Hogwarts, you hadn't even opened a basic Potions textbook. Is that right, Potter?"

Just as Harry thought this public execution was finally over, Snape's gaze suddenly shifted.

Those abyss-like eyes swept past Ron, past Hermione, and finally landed on the Eastern boy who had been sitting there quietly the entire time, his face expressionless, as if this farce had nothing to do with him.

Lin Yuan.

"Perfect controller," according to Flitwick. "Rule-breaker," according to McGonagall.

Snape's lips curled into a colder smile.

He had certainly heard about this new student's "brilliant deeds."

In his opinion, this was just another show-off.

Having a little cleverness in those childish Charms and Transfigurations meant nothing.

Potions Mastery was a truly rigorous and profound science.

It was time to let this newly crowned "genius" taste the bitterness of reality.

"Mr. Lin," Snape's voice rang out again, this time with a more intense malice than when he had addressed Harry.

"Since your fellow housemate knows nothing, you, then, will give us all a 'genius' demonstration."

He deliberately emphasized the word "genius," dripping with sarcasm.

Well, the big boss's hatred has shifted to me.

Lin Yuan's heart remained calm; he even felt like laughing a little.

Faced with Snape's aggressive gaze and the complex stares of the entire class, Lin Yuan's reaction surprised everyone.

He wasn't nervous, nor flustered; not even an eyebrow twitched.

He merely slowly raised his eyes, met Snape's gaze calmly, and then politely gave a slight nod.

"Yes, Professor."