Zhihao released a slow breath, on the verge of leaving when a melodic feminine voice intercepted.
"Hold on!" The command lingered, compelling him to pivot. "You're Zhihao, aren't you?"
The speaker revealed herself as Ryusa, an alchemist affiliated with Jinsao School. "You've matured," she remarked. "Are you assisting your sister in crafting these elixirs?"
Zhihao fell into silence, a faint, weary smile gracing his face, expressing the fatigue that begged for a restful slumber. "Yes, it is obvious."
Ryusa motioned for him to approach. "Come here for a moment. I have something for you," she declared, retrieving an item from the drawer of her desk.
Each step carried the weight of exhaustion, threatening to unstable him. Meisha couldn't help but chuckle at her brother's fatigued state, witnessing his first experience of such laborious and late work.
"Think of it as a reward," she remarked, seizing Zhihao's hand and slipping several silver coins into his palm. "Don't squander it!"
Ryusa redirected her focus to the concoction, catching snippets of Meisha's question about the urgency of the Relaxia Potion. Simultaneously, Zhihao remained immobilized, fixating on the four coins that caught the sunlight.
"Thanks," he mumbled, his response seemingly slowed by drowsiness. "I'd like to take a look outside, then."
Both women nodded, with Meisha chiming in a caution, "Be careful not to sleepwalk!"
As Zhihao exited, his sister's voice faded. Instantly, his eyes shut, blinded by the illuminating light enveloping the world. As he opened them, a panorama of students engrossed in their routines greeted his emerald eyes, leaving him in amazement.
The scene unfolded with students immersed in various activities – running, exercising, and some seated cross-legged on the grass, listening to the lone man standing. As an unfamiliar sight, Zhihao sensed a hint of nervousness under the scrutiny of several eyes.
However, driven by his singular intention to explore the internal martial arts practiced on the field, he navigated the courtyard, discovering an unclaimed wooden bench. Without hesitation, he seated himself, eager to observe.
He focused both eyes on the two humans who were now standing in front of the students, demonstrating an exercise of some sort. Although not close, Zhihao could hear and notice their actions.
"This time we will improve our reflexes," the man who looked to be in his fifties declared. "Through the method of the Hand Attachment technique."
"Now, take an attention, everyone! Have your stance readied," he continued, prompting the student before him to stretch out one of his legs and extend both hands forward.
"Then we have to attach," the Master said in detail, their hands bound. "This is the crucial one, we have to keep connected as we drive our force."
"I'm about to move and tried not to break the contact," at that exclamation, a short black-haired disciple nodded in comprehension with a serious countenance.
All eyes were fixed attentively, studying the movements demonstrated by the Master. Participants followed suit, intertwining their hands, determined not to release their hold.
"This is to restrain our desire to beat on another," the man said, moving in harmony. "Don't ever have the feel of that."
"Because if you have that ambition," the Master tried to push his hand toward his disciple. "It will be rash and mess up your defense."
"Be calm to clear the mind, to enhance our reflexes to the next level," he began to explain the benefits of the technique. "Keep concentrate and focus, don't be wavered."
"When you do not concentrate and become rash," unexpectedly, the Master's hand slid in front of the student's face, catching him off guard. Helpless to evade, he stood stunned. "Then you will expose the weaknesses."
The disciples, including Zhihao listening from a distance, were captivated by the lesson. The idea of prioritizing defense over offense resonated with him – dissolve the force rather than confront it.
Observing the students practicing the technique emphasized the importance of maintaining calm in the face of threats. Leaning forward, the black-haired man became engrossed, intrigued by the intricacies of internal martial arts.
The resonant bell interrupted the scene, causing Zhihao to shock from his bench. "Alright, time to break!" The Master's clapping hands signaled the end of the session. "Good work, everyone. I'll be back here again."
Feeling flustered, Zhihao fumbled, uncertain of what to do, especially when the man in his fifties approached him with a puzzled expression. Trying to appear occupied, he took a sip from the elixir wrapped around his waist, attempting to act nonchalant as the Master halted right in front of him.
"I never saw you before," the man was curious, watching Zhihao lower his head. "New disciple?"
Zhihao, who was nervous, conveyed a contrived smile. "Ah, no, Master," he stammered, his both eyes looking in various directions. "I'm just an alchemist delivering potions."
"Oh, has it arrived?" he turned to the concoction house over there. "Magnificent, thank you. We need that brew for our children here. You sure are reliable."
As students dispersed, many passed him in awe. Mesmerized by his handsome demeanor, most women found it challenging to divert their attention toward Zhihao, who maintained a smile while conversing with their Master.
"Who is he?"
"I have seen him with one of the Twinhill Village's alchemists."
"You serious? He is an alchemist?"
"I think so. I noticed him coming out of the Hall of Concoction before I came here."
"There's no mistaking it, he must be the one who sent the Relaxia Potion."
Zhihao rose on his feet and bowed as he said. "Thank you, Master, I will do my best!" he exclaimed, feeling a tap on his shoulder as the man walked over him.
The alchemist sighed and became annoyed that Meisha had taken so long to be in that place when he was in the middle of a cold sweat being the main attention. Eager to sidestep any awkwardness, Zhihao took a step back but paused upon hearing a voice calling him.
"Lin Zhihao?" questioned the tanned-haired, tied-up woman, ensuring she hadn't mistaken him as he had his back on her. "Or am I mistaken?"
Hesitant, Zhihao turned his head, confirming his earlier suspicion. "Wu Xinran?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "How did you get back here so fast?"
"I have a carriage," she replied, still not expecting the encounter with the man who had offered her shelter and healed her injuries. "But, what are you doing here?"
"I'm transporting some brew," Zhihao chuckled with his disheveled appearance. "It seems like this school needs it."
"Well, what do we have here?" a familiar voice chimed in. Zhihao turned to find Meisha beside him. "Found someone you're interested in?"