The Elders' Hall
In the majestic hall of elders, the atmosphere was heavy with a mix of solemnity and urgency. The walls of the chamber were adorned with ancient inscriptions, while the elders sat around a grand, circular stone table etched with the Yan clan emblem. At the head of the table was Elder Yan Guang, his silver hair flowing like a river of wisdom. His sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the tension on each face.
"What news do we have of the librarian's death?" Yan Guang asked, his voice low but commanding.
An elder replied, "None yet, Elder Yan Guang. No signs of struggle, no indication of foul play. However, his greed and questionable dealings were well known."
Yan Guang frowned. "Greed alone doesn't lead to sudden death. Keep investigating. For now, we turn our focus to the test battle. The young geniuses will soon return from their training. It is essential we assess their progress and ensure our clan's future strength."
The murmurs of agreement filled the hall as another elder added, "The arena is being prepared. This test will reveal their potential and their place within the clan."
"Good," Yan Guang concluded, his gaze hardening. "The clan must see strength, for weakness is not an option."
The soft light of dawn filtered through the thin curtains of Yan Zi's room. He stirred from his restless sleep, the faint glow of his Fire Heart Jade catching his eye on the table. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh. It had been a month since he had started practicing alchemy, and failure had become his constant companion.
Just as he stretched, his mother entered the room with a small wooden box in her hands. "Zi'er," she called softly, her voice laced with both love and concern.
Yan Zi turned to her, noticing the gentle yet tired smile on her face. "Mother, what's that?"
She sat beside him and opened the box, revealing a crimson gemstone that seemed to pulse faintly with heat. "This is a Fire Heart Jade," she said, her tone warm with nostalgia.
Yan Zi's eyes widened as he leaned closer. "Fire Heart Jade? Isn't this used by alchemists to stabilize flames during pill refinement?"
She nodded. "It was your father's, gifted to him by your grandfather when he first started his journey as an alchemist. Though your father had to give up alchemy due to his injuries, he wanted you to have this. It will help you control fire, even without a cultivation core."
Yan Zi's chest tightened. He looked up at his mother, gratitude and determination shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Mother. I'll use this well."
"Father," Yan Zi called out in surprise, rising to his feet. His father's return was unexpected but welcome.
Yan Hong looked at his son, his face weathered from the years of service to the clan, but his eyes carried a warmth reserved only for his family. "Zi'er, how have you been these days?"
Yan Zi hesitated for a moment before replying, "I've been practicing alchemy, Father. It's been... challenging, but I'm learning."
Yan Hong's expression darkened slightly. "Alchemy? Zi'er, how can you practice alchemy without soul power and inner flames? With your damaged cultivation, it should be impossible."
Yan Zi smiled faintly, his resolve unwavering. "Don't worry, Father. Mother has helped me a lot. She gave me the Fire Heart Jade, and I've spent months studying the techniques. I may not have a core, but I'm making progress."
Yan Hong's gaze softened, though concern lingered in his eyes. "Zi'er, I admire your determination, but alchemy is not something that can be mastered without both talent and resources. I don't want you to push yourself too hard."
Yan Zi met his father's eyes, his voice steady. "I know the path isn't easy, but I want to contribute to the clan in my own way. I've already spent too long being looked down upon. I won't give up."
Yan Hong nodded slowly, pride flickering in his expression. "Then keep going, but promise me one thing, Zi'er—if you find it too much to bear, come to me. You don't have to shoulder everything alone."
"I promise, Father," Yan Zi said with a small smile.
As the days turned into weeks, Yan Zi devoted himself fully to alchemy. His small workspace became cluttered with dried herbs, vials of strange liquids, and pages of notes filled with intricate diagrams and formulas. Each day, he would carefully measure ingredients, ignite the Fire Heart Jade, and attempt to combine the components in his cauldron.
"Too much flame," he muttered as the mixture turned into ash for the third time that day. The cauldron released a puff of black smoke, filling the room with a sharp, acrid smell.
Other times, the mixture would bubble furiously before solidifying into a useless lump. "Why won't it mix properly?" Yan Zi growled, frustration bubbling within him.
Despite the failures, he refused to stop. He would wake at dawn and work until late into the night, his hands often trembling from exhaustion. The Fire Heart Jade glowed steadily, a silent witness to his determination.
One evening, after yet another failed attempt, Yan Zi leaned back against the wall, staring at the cauldron. "Is it me?" he whispered to himself. "Am I just not good enough?"
His mind drifted back to his father's words, and a spark of determination reignited within him. "No," he said aloud, clenching his fists. "I've come too far to stop now."
Another month passed, and Yan Zi's failures began to teach him as much as his successes. He learned to control the flame more precisely, to time each addition of ingredients perfectly, and to recognize the subtle changes in the mixture's consistency.
On the third night of the second month, as he added the final herb to the cauldron, something extraordinary happened. The mixture began to glow faintly, a soft golden light radiating from within.
Yan Zi's heart raced, his breath catching in his throat. He stepped closer, his hands trembling as he gazed at the cauldron. "Is this...?"
His voice trailed off, the words lost in the moment as the light grew brighter, filling the room with a warm, almost divine glow.
As the golden light from the cauldron filled the room, Yan Zi froze in place, his breath shallow. The brilliance was unlike anything he had seen before, warm yet sharp, like the sun piercing through the cold morning mist. His hands trembled, the fire in the cauldron slowly dimming until it extinguished with a soft hiss.
When the light vanished, Yan Zi leaned forward cautiously, his heart pounding like a war drum. Inside the now-cooled cauldron sat a single pill, small and unassuming, with a faint sheen of gold on its surface. It exuded a gentle medicinal fragrance that filled the room, calming his tense nerves.
"It's... a pill," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He reached out, his fingers brushing the smooth surface of the pill before lifting it carefully into his palm. Examining it closely, his eyes widened. "This is... a Tier 2 lower-grade healing pill!"
For a moment, he simply stared at it, disbelief and joy warring in his expression. Then, his lips curled into a rare, genuine smile, and his chest swelled with pride. "I... I did it," he murmured, his voice trembling. "I refined a pill!"
He stood abruptly, clutching the pill tightly. His mind raced with the memories of his failures, the countless hours spent poring over the alchemy book, the frustration, and the countless explosions and wasted herbs. All of it now felt worth it.
"Tsk," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "All this time, I thought I was chasing the impossible. But this... this is real!"
He looked at the Fire Heart Jade hanging from his neck and sighed softly. "Mother was right. Hard work and the right tools can make miracles happen."
---
Yan Zi raised the pill triumphantly and shouted, "I can refine pills now!" His voice echoed through the small house, filled with a mix of excitement and relief.
He paced the room, still unable to contain his energy. "Even if it's a lower-grade pill, it's a real healing pill! With this, I've taken my first step into alchemy!"
Though he knew the pill's success was partly due to the Fire Heart Jade stabilizing the flames, he couldn't ignore his own efforts. "It wasn't just the jade," he muttered, nodding to himself. "I worked for this. I earned this!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Yan Zi rushed out of his room, the pill still in his hand. The hallway felt brighter, the air lighter as he made his way to the main room.
"Mother!" he called out, his voice brimming with excitement.
Yan Mei turned from where she was tending to the herbs by the window. "Zi'er?" she said, startled by the uncharacteristic enthusiasm in his voice. She looked at him, and her breath caught. For the first time in years, her son's face wasn't clouded with sadness or anger. He was smiling—a smile so pure and unrestrained that it almost brought tears to her eyes.
"Look!" Yan Zi said, holding out the pill. "I did it! I refined a healing pill!"
Yan Mei's eyes flicked to the pill in his hand, then back to her son's face. She smiled warmly, her heart swelling with pride—not because of the pill, but because of the boy standing before her. For years, Yan Zi had been weighed down by the scorn and humiliation he endured in the clan, his once-bright spirit dimmed. Yet now, he stood tall, his eyes gleaming with determination and hope.
She reached out, gently placing her hands on his shoulders. "Zi'er," she said softly, "I'm so proud of you."
Yan Zi blinked, taken aback. "Mother, it's just a Tier 2 lower-grade pill. It's nothing extraordinary—"
Yan Mei shook her head, her smile deepening. "It's not about the pill, Zi'er. It's you. It's been so long since I've seen you smile like this. You've been carrying so much pain, but now... now you've found something that brings you joy. That's what matters."
Yan Zi's throat tightened, and he looked away, his fingers curling around the pill. "Mother... I just wanted to prove that I could do something. That I'm not useless..."
"Zi'er," Yan Mei said firmly, lifting his chin so he could meet her gaze. "You've never been useless. You've always had the heart of a fighter, even when the world tried to break you. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise."
Yan Zi nodded, his chest heaving as he took in her words. "Thank you, Mother," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Yan Mei's expression softened, and she brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Go rest, Zi'er. You've worked so hard."
That night, as Yan Zi lay in bed, the healing pill sat on the table beside him, its faint glow a reminder of his triumph. He stared at it for a long time, his thoughts swirling.
"I did it," he whispered to himself, a small smile playing on his lips. "This is just the beginning."
As the moonlight bathed the room in silver, Yan Zi closed his eyes, his heart lighter than it had been in years. The road ahead was still uncertain, but for the first time, he felt like he had taken a step toward his destiny.