Yao Lao: Did I Really Take in a Genius?

Yao Lao's brows shot up.

Three ingredients, all at once?

For a beginner, control over Soul Power and flame temperature was still vague. Being able to steadily refine a single medicinal ingredient was already no easy task.

Refining two at the same time was more than twice as difficult.

Refining three at once was not confidence. It was courting death.

When Yao Lao had first begun learning alchemy, he had refined ingredients one by one and had never dared to bite off more than he could chew.

He had seen some exceptionally gifted Alchemists attempt to refine two ingredients at once when they were beginners. The result was usually that both ingredients were ruined together. Not only were materials wasted, but their confidence was dealt a blow as well.

As for refining three ingredients simultaneously, in all his years of life, he had never heard of any beginner capable of doing it.

He opened his mouth, intending to stop him—

Xiao Yan's flames had already enveloped all three ingredients.

The battle qi flames within the cauldron were precisely divided into three streams by his Soul Power. Each stream differed in thickness, temperature, and direction of combustion.

The first stream was the hottest. It wrapped around the Blood-Coagulating Herb, its bright yellow flames licking every corner of the leaves.

The second stream was slightly cooler. It enveloped the Vitality Fruit in pale yellow flames, gentle and even.

The third stream was the coolest. It covered the poppy in milky-white flames, soft as a thin veil.

The three streams of flame coexisted within the cauldron without interfering with one another, like three rivers flowing in separate channels, their waters clear and their courses distinct.

The word "stop" reached Yao Lao's lips, then was swallowed back down.

He watched quietly without speaking or interrupting. He wanted to see just what kind of surprise this disciple of his could bring him.

The cave fell silent. Only the faint crackling of flames within the cauldron remained, along with the occasional hum from its body—the sound of metal vibrating under intense heat.

Time passed second by second.

The Blood-Coagulating Herb curled, shrank, and crumbled beneath the high-temperature flames, turning into pure white powder.

The Vitality Fruit shriveled, cracked, and carbonized in the flames, releasing tiny black granules.

The poppy petals slowly melted in the low-temperature flames, becoming a pale red liquid.

Three medicinal ingredients, three different refining temperatures, three different durations—Xiao Yan completed them all simultaneously in the same cauldron without a single mistake.

He had practiced the specific temperature required for each medicinal ingredient hundreds of times in the Martial Dao Space.

Hundreds of repetitions, hundreds of adjustments, hundreds of failures and successes had carved those temperatures into his muscle memory.

His hands knew how strong the flames needed to be. His soul knew when the ingredients had finished refining. His body knew what to do next.

There was no need to think, no need to hesitate, no need to stop and calculate.

Everything fell into place naturally.

The three ingredients finished refining almost at the same time.

Xiao Yan did not pause. Soul Power surged into the cauldron, merging the three streams of flame back into one before pushing all three refined products into the most intense part of the fire at once.

White powder, black granules, and pale red liquid converged within the flames.

The powder dissolved, the granules melted, and the liquid changed color.

The three substances, with their three forms, textures, and colors, began to blend beneath the intense heat. First, they seeped into one another in pairs, then all three merged as one. The once clearly divided boundaries grew blurrier and blurrier until they disappeared completely.

The mixture inside the cauldron became a large mass of dark red paste.

The paste had a uniform texture and consistent color, its surface gleaming with an oily sheen.

A rich medicinal fragrance drifted out from the cauldron and filled the entire cave. Compared to the batch Yao Lao had refined earlier, it smelled almost exactly the same, only slightly less concentrated.

Five or six minutes.

From the start of refinement to the completion of fusion, Yao Lao had taken five or six minutes. Xiao Yan had taken nearly the same amount of time, almost matching him exactly.

Xiao Yan did not stop.

With a sweep of his palm, the cauldron lid flew open. At a beckoning gesture from his right hand, the mass of dark red paste within the cauldron leaped into the air and hovered in midair.

Imitating Yao Lao, he sliced downward with his palm through empty air, dividing the paste into evenly sized portions.

With a flick of his finger, the stoppers on more than a hundred jade bottles scattered across the ground all popped open at once.

Finally, he waved his hand.

Over a hundred floating portions of paste dropped precisely into their respective jade bottles like obedient marbles. The stoppers fell back into place, sealing them perfectly. Not a single drop spilled outside.

After finishing all this, Xiao Yan neither admired his results nor turned to look at Yao Lao's expression. He sat cross-legged on the flat boulder in the cave, formed hand seals with both hands, closed his eyes, and began circulating the Heaven-Burning Divine Art.

Outside, the battle qi between heaven and earth entered Xiao Yan's body through his pores. It was purified by the Undying Divine Flame and sent into his dantian, replenishing the energy he had expended during the alchemy process.

Yao Lao stood where he was, completely motionless.

He had watched the entire process—from igniting the cauldron to bottling the medicine—without missing a single step.

What he had seen was not a beginner clumsily imitating his teacher's movements, but an Alchemist with considerable proficiency carrying out an ordinary refinement in an orderly manner.

No, it was more than mere proficiency.

The composure and certainty Xiao Yan displayed during alchemy, his precise grasp of flame temperatures and ingredient conditions, his ease while refining three ingredients at once—these were not things a "beginner" should possess.

Yao Lao looked at Xiao Yan, who was sitting cross-legged and recovering his battle qi, and complicated emotions rose in his heart.

He recalled how, just yesterday, he had thought Xiao Yan's comprehension might be a little stronger than that of ordinary people.

Now it seemed that it was not merely "a little stronger," but "far stronger."

The battle techniques he had passed on to Xiao Yan had been mastered to the major accomplishment stage, or even perfection, in just one day—as if Xiao Yan had practiced them for years.

Xiao Yan had only watched Blood-Coagulating Powder being refined once before getting the hang of it, and the finished product he created was no worse than his teacher's.

Once could be a coincidence. Twice could not be explained away as coincidence.

Yao Lao's gaze settled on Xiao Yan. In those aged eyes, surprise had quietly turned to shock, and beneath that shock lay a trace of anticipation that even he himself had not fully realized.

He muttered inwardly.

Did I really take in a monster?

"Teacher, how was it?"

Xiao Yan rose from the boulder, patted nonexistent dust from his robes, and looked toward Yao Lao.

His breathing had already steadied, his complexion was rosy, and his battle qi had recovered to its peak state.

Yao Lao floated in midair with his hands behind his back. His gaze swept over Xiao Yan before falling upon the neatly arranged jade bottles on the ground.

There were over a hundred jade bottles, each filled with dark red Blood-Coagulating Powder. Their mouths had been sealed by Yao Lao with Soul Power, locking the medicinal fragrance inside without allowing even the slightest trace to leak out.

He fell silent for a moment.

"Cough, cough." Yao Lao cleared his throat, his voice deliberately calm. "Not bad. Still, it is just a little inferior to what I could do back then."

As he spoke, his gaze shifted slightly aside, avoiding Xiao Yan's eyes.

That subtle movement gave him away—if it really had been merely "not bad," he would not have needed to look away.

When a teacher evaluated a student with a clear conscience, his gaze should be steady and meet the other person's eyes.

Only when one felt guilty would one instinctively look elsewhere.

Yao Lao was lying, but he felt that this lie was necessary.

He was afraid Xiao Yan would become arrogant.

A fifteen-year-old youth who, on his first attempt at alchemy, produced a finished product no worse than that of a First-Rank Alchemist—if he were lavishly praised for such a thing, it would be easy for him to become conceited.

Back then, Yao Lao himself had been praised too much by his teacher. For a long time afterward, he had felt as though he was floating whenever he walked.

He did not want Xiao Yan to repeat his mistakes.

Xiao Yan glanced at Yao Lao. His gaze lingered for a moment on Yao Lao's turned-away face and the slightly unnatural corner of his mouth, but he said nothing.

He had seen through it, but he did not expose him. His teacher cared about his dignity, and Xiao Yan had to give him that dignity.