The entire hall suddenly filled with the rich, sweet scent of fresh dicinal herbs, a fragrance that hinted at the possibility of success. Wen Ran sat on the ground, his body steady as he recreated each step with precision, his wrist moving in smooth, well-coordinated motions. His focus was sharp, and every action was executed with the utmost care. As he crushed the herbs and mixed the ingredients, even the old man was taken aback by how talented Wen Ran was. For once, the old man felt a flicker of hope, a montary belief that maybe, just maybe, Wen Ran was the perfect disciple he had always dread of.
But that hope would be short-lived.
Wen Ran, filled with determination, carefully opened the lid of the small furnace, but as soon as the lid was lifted, the fire within surged uncontrollably. The flas were wild, too strong, and too untad. The fire roared with deadly intensity, and before Wen Ran could react, the herb mixture inside the furnace was reduced to ash.
"What happened?" Wen Ran muttered, his brow furrowed in confusion. His first attempt had already failed, and now this? He had followed the steps carefully, so why had it gone wrong? Without hesitation, he tried again.
The old man watched in silence, his sharp eyes narrowing. He had seen the truth clearly in that brief mont when Wen Ran had opened the furnace. The fla Wen Ran wielded was no ordinary fla—it had no trace of the wood elent, the nurturing essence needed to fuel the creation of pills. Instead, it was a pure fire, a violent blaze that consud everything in its path, leaving only destruction in its wake. It was a fla that could not give birth to anything—except chaos and ruin.
The old man saw it clearly: the fla Wen Ran wielded had no trace of the wood elent. It was a pure fire—wild, untad, and destructive. It was a fla that could not nurture, could not give birth to anything but chaos and ruin. It would be his greatest weakness, one that would haunt him for a long ti.
Wen Ran could easily cultivate, his potential for growth limitless. He could easily win in battle, his strength formidable. But when it ca to becoming a true pill master, he would never succeed. Not now, not with the skills he possessed. Not with that reckless, destructive fla.
The old man chuckled inwardly. Hahaha! It's fun to watch him suffer a little. I never imagined this is where he would fail. He's capable of so much, and yet this is where he falters.
He could help, of course. He could guide Wen Ran onto the right path, show him the way to mastery. But the old man wasn't sure whether to. There was sothing about this test, sothing about watching Wen Ran struggle, that felt... aningful.
He could give him the answers, but where would that leave him? No, the old man had plans of his own. He knew the potential of this young disciple, but he wanted to see Wen Ran's talent truly tested. He wanted to push him to the very limit, to break him and rebuild him stronger.
With a smirk, the old man set his plans into motion. He would test every ounce of Wen Ran's talent, guide him not just to mastery of alchemy but to sothing far greater.
While one smiled, enjoying the spectacle, the other was sweating buckets, cursing the world itself. Wen Ran couldn't figure out why every single ti he tried to pour the dicinal powder into the furnace, it would turn to ash instantly. Each failure chipped away at his resolve, slowly turning his heart ashen as well.
Again...
Another round was burnt to nothing.
Again...
The last third of the stack of dicinal plants went up in smoke, and more than half a day had passed. Wen Ran's body was exhausted, every muscle aching from the strain, but it wasn't just his body that felt worn out. His spirit was cracking under the pressure, the constant failures eating away at his confidence. But even more exhausted were the silent experts in the room, those who pretended to be unbothered by the failures. They, along with the old man, were growing impatient. They wanted to drag Wen Ran out of this, take back the resources, and stop wasting ti on soone who seed hopeless.
But then, sothing unexpected happened.
Wen Ran, his hands trembling with fury, infused a small amount of wood energy into the fla, his anger guiding the energy as it flared within him. And to his shock, the fla responded.
It cald almost instantaneously.
The fire, once wild and destructive, now softened, its wild hunger restrained. The temperature steadied, and the herbs inside the furnace began to heat evenly. Wen Ran's heart skipped a beat, disbelief spreading through his chest. It worked... he thought, barely able to process the change. The fire was no longer out of control, no longer consuming everything it touched.
The old man, who had been watching with a calculating gaze, raised an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden shift in Wen Ran's approach. So, he finally discovered the balance... he thought to himself, not yet ready to acknowledge that his disciple had succeeded. The old man's eyes glinted with a mix of intrigue and expectation.
But Wen Ran didn't care about the old man's approval at that mont. He had done it. The flas were tad, the chaos subdued, and the alchemical process was finally beginning to take shape. His heart raced with renewed determination. This was just the beginning.
The furnace humd with a steady rhythm, and for the first ti in hours, Wen Ran felt a flicker of triumph. The failure, the endless cycle of burnt herbs—it was all worth it now. The fire responded to his touch, to his will, and in that mont, he knew he had crossed a threshold. This was no longer just about creating a pill. This was about mastering the fla, bending it to his command.
And soon, Wen Ran would beco the true nightmare to the old man. The day would co when his master would regret every decision, every mont he'd spent shaping him. Wen Ran's power would grow beyond the old man's control, and the very disciple he had once nurtured would turn into a force that would haunt him. His decision to keep Wen Ran as his personal disciple would co back to haunt him tenfold, making him wish for soone else.
Wen Ran's smirk deepened as he watched the furnace slowly and steadily do its work. The path ahead was clearer now. He would rise higher than anyone could imagine. And the old man? He would soon realize that he had created sothing far more dangerous than he ever intended.
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