What would a haughty sect leader who is always on the hunt for more gullible people to scam do in his place? Tian Hua wondered. He definitely couldn’t harrumph his way out of this or strut right to his bedchamber while barking orders. That would maximize his chances of getting killed in his sleep.

And something tells me Xiang Jun won’t be the one to drive his rusty sword through my heart, thought Tian Hua as Long Xinyue’s glare pricked his skin.

Tian Hua only wished to dig a grave for himself and lie there.

The tallest youth, Yang Junchen, found his voice again and uttered, “this disciple has taken care of tending the plants. My junior sister helped with maintaining the place clean.”

Tian Hua cleared his throat, “That’s good, that’s good.”

A painfully long silence.

He coughed, “I will go rest now. Make sure you two also rest early.”

Yang Junchen bowed respectfully and Long Xinyue merely raised her chin in defiance. Xiang Jun hurried to dispel some of the tension crackling in the air, “Did… Did you all know Teacher was in Longmu?”

Long Xinyue’s eyes, sharp like the tip of a dagger, stared right into Tian Hua’s own, a storm brewing in their depths. No!!! What did you do, you fool?! Tian Hua felt betrayed—having already walked in the lion’s den, Xiang Jun was edging him ever so closer to its maws. Yang Junchen appeared unruffled, but Long Xinyue would absolutely never miss any opportunity to beat her master to death with a broom.

“No, but we do now,” Yang Junchen’s words flowed like a tranquil river. “What did Teacher do in Longmu?”

“Anything nefarious?” Her words dripped with venom, so much so that Tian Hua had to take a minuscule step back.

“I’ve actually lost my memories.”

Eyes widened, mouths slightly agape, Yang Junchen and Long Xinyue were suddenly shocked into silence by the news. The girl, however, quickly composed herself and threw yet another nasty look.

“And how do we know you’re not lying?”

Wait, that’s a good question. It was Tian Hua’s turn to remain quiet, brain working overtime to come up with a believable answer.

Xiang Jun jumped to his aid. “That’s because Teacher wasn’t acting like his usual self!”

“How do you know how he usually acts?” She directed her glare to Xiang Jun, whose confidence immediately deflated. “We’ve known him for at most a month! Why are you so vehemently taking his side?”

“Junior Sister—”

“During my journey,” Tian Hua cut Yang Junchen’s words off, feeling a pang in his heart at the way Xiang Jun got so harshly rebuked, “it was brought to my attention that your Teacher—that’d be me—hadn’t been the most… considerate or obliging. I cannot recall any events prior to waking up in Longmu, nor can I prove this to any of you. All that is within my power to do is to show you. But that will take time and patience.”

This seemed to shock the disciples again.

What else could Tian Hua have possibly done but tap his past of being a teaching assistant? He was very much used to being at the receiving end of glares, mocking and spiteful words; students loathed alchemy, but they hated their teaching assistant more for always giving them assignments. And when they would begin their fit, Tian Hua would choose his words carefully in order to mollify his students. Of course it never succeeded, but Tian Hua faithfully did this every time, because he enjoyed watching his students get even more worked up.

Yang Junchen cleared his throat, “I understand. We all do, Teacher….”

He threw a glance at Long Xinyue and whatever she wished to say died in her throat. She exhaled deeply and stomped away, slowly followed by Yang Junchen, who did not forget to bow one more time.

Xiang Jun lagged behind, seemingly attempting to summon his courage to utter something, but decided against it and scuttled after his friends.

It was then that the grip of stress released its hold on Tian Hua. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation of tension dissolving like sand slipping through an hourglass, and put his jumbled thoughts into perspective.

With slow footsteps, Tian Hua trod lightly to the dwelling to his right, having already seen the disciples walking to the one on the left; their dormitories, he supposed. The building in the center looked like a temple, more derelict than the other two. Why was there a temple here?

Recalling some pieces of conversations he had with Xiang Jun, he remembered him mentioning Long Xinyue allowing the villagers to tour something. What if he was talking about this temple?

Its weathered walls, made of dark wood, blended seamlessly with the lofty willows behind it. The massive wooden doors bore the scars of neglect. He stopped and opened them, cautious to what might be lurking inside.

The hinges protested, the sound of creaking resembling the one of an animal keening in pain. Tian Hua could barely discern the interior, and through the murk he made out the silhouette of a tall person. His heart skipped a beat at the sight and he immediately retreated.

The person stood unmoving.

Is this a monk? Tian Hua wondered as he endeavored to calm his heart. Or a villager?

The individual should have already noticed Tian Hua’s presence by now, yet it remained still. Unnerved by this, Tian Hua tiptoed to the nearest lamp and grabbed it, bringing it with him back at the entrance to the temple.

The light was bright enough to unveil the hidden intruder: a carved idol. The deity’s serene countenance, once etched with benevolence, was now marred by cracks. And its smiling eyes were staring right at him.

Oh, no, absolutely not. I’m outta here. Tian Hua slammed the doors shut and quickened his pace, leaving behind the temple and approaching the quaint dwelling.

This has to be where Tian Hua used to live. Maybe there’s anything of value here?

He pushed the stubborn weeds out of the way with his feet and entered the building, lamp held in his slightly quivering hand.

Inside, the air was heavy with the smell of wood and incense. Tian Hua had to cover his nose in the crook of his arm and proceeded further in.

Surprisingly, the main chamber was speckless, though clothing items and scrolls were strewn about. This irked him. He had become so used to having his apartment perfectly clean at all times, thanks to his android.

Wooden shelves displayed books and scrolls, and as Tian Hua stepped closer, he could smell the faint scent of aged parchment. He placed the lamp on a table and brushed his finger against its surface—spotless.

Adjacent to the chamber was the bedroom. In the center a simple wooden bed was placed, with a quilt and a pillow. At its foot was an open book with faded ink. Tian Hua spotted a window at the side, which he immediately opened wide and stuck his head out to take in gulps of air.

When he was ready to explore the chambers some more, Tian Hua covered his nose again and set the lamp on a nightstand to read the book.

He flipped through the pages, expecting to find something scandalous or of great significance, but all he could interpret from the intelligible writing were lists of objects and their prices, along with a drawn map, with one city in particular circled.

Donglin Port was scrawled underneath. Tian Hua contemplated and leafed through the book for more information. Every page, however, contained lists with prices, with some numbers being changed and rewritten several times with thicker characters. Is this a register? Has to be.

Now that the musty stillness clinging to the room had somewhat dispelled, Tian Hua moved his arm from his face and walked to the shelves.

His fingers trailed over the spines of the books, the leather bindings cool to the touch; he grabbed one and flicked through it.

Alchemy.

The pages were yellowed with age and the ink faded a bit, but it was enough to capture Tian Hua’s undivided attention, given his past life’s job centered around alchemy.

The first sections served as an introduction to this world’s alchemy, and Tian Hua could hardly believe he wasn’t reading something fantastical.

There were five elements found in nature—fire, earth, water, metal and wood. Although they could not be seen by the naked eye, humans with an affinity to any element were able to manipulate and absorb Qi for cultivation. Alchemists would then use Qi to draw out the elemental essence within plants or rocks and utilize it to craft pills.

In his own world, there was nothing of the sort; artificial Qi would handle every aspect of pill refining as long as you possessed sufficient knowledge of the ingredients to yield favorable results.

Tian Hua already felt hopeless. “Can I even do this?”

Moreover, the book clearly stated that not everyone had such an affinity. If that turned out to be true for Tian Hua, he would be devastated. How would he be able to protect himself from any possible danger in this world? What if his disciples suddenly turned on him? Then what?

Think positive thoughts, and positive thoughts only.

He continued to scan through more pages.

Just as he was accustomed to, each pill was categorized into tiers from 1 to 10, with Tier 1 being of the lowest quality and Tier 10 the highest. With each higher tier, the success rate of refining a pill decreased, and the refining process demanded more Qi.

The herbs employed in the refining process adhered to the same principle of tier grading. Nonetheless, herbs of a particular tier could only be utilized to refine pills of the same tier, not lower or higher.

Each pill contained a specific percentage of impurities that could be removed through the repetition of the refining process. However, with each iteration, it became increasingly demanding on the Qi.

The rest of the pages detailed some of the simplest recipes for pills, most of which Tian Hua already had knowledge of. However, what puzzled him were the slight differences in ingredients; for example, a Rejuvenating Pill, which was Tier 1, called for three Yang Dandelions and one Vanilla Orchid. The Rejuvenating Pill he was well-acquainted with in his world—the Energizer—required an additional Yang Dandelion and one Toughened Starlit Lily.

There were also brews that were incomplete by his standard; the Defense Pill was but a weaker version of the Crimson Aegis Pill from his world.

This is a beginner’s book, so that’s expected. I’m sure there are some incredibly complex recipes out there. At this thought, Tian Hua’s hands itched, the desire to have in his possession something like this growing exponentially.

It’s decided! He closed the book and exhaled. I’m gonna get back into alchemy, sell everything I make, become stronger and buy myself a house away from those brats.

 

. . . . .

 

By morning, his foolproof plan was already falling apart.

He definitely did not bank on everything to run smoothly right from the start, but not even owning a cauldron for alchemy was ridiculous knowing that Tian Hua had been a hoarder; among the books collected by Tian Hua were some fairly useful manuals, erotica (very poorly written, not that he had sneaked a look or anything) and sewing guides, for some reason.

Though he was optimistic about the results he could get without a cauldron, Tian Hua understood soon that not only was he lacking a core, but most of the ingredients, too.

Absolutely nothing went his way that night.

Once the first rays of sunlight pierced the horizon, a hesitant knock sounded at the door of his dwelling. Tian Hua opened his bleary eyes; he had meditated for a while by following the steps written in a manual, but never had he imagined cultivating using true Qi would be this exhausting.

“Teacher, I’ve brought a meal and will serve you tea. May I come in?” Xiang Jun asked from behind the door.

Whatever, there was definitely enough time for him to meditate after gorging on a couple of mouth-watering sausages, strawberry jam on toast and eggs sunny side up. How could anyone work on an empty stomach?

“Come in.”

There was a slight clinking of porcelain, perhaps Xiang Jun was adjusting the plates and cups on the platter. He eventually stepped inside, one hand holding the door open, while the other unsteadily supported the platter. With the way it shook, Tian Hua was certain something bad was bound to happen.

“Let me help,” he rose to his feet, alarmed.

Xiang Jun refused any help offered and placed the platter on a low table, which he then pushed to Tian Hua, who sat on the floor. “Unfortunately, we are out of carrots, and since Senior Brother Yang has been training, Senior Sister Long managed to put something together for you, Teacher!”

Tian Hua glanced at the meal. Vegetables with vegetables, along with a side of vegetables. He lifted the chopsticks warily and stared at a bowl of watery congee. “Yang Junchen usually cooks, you say?”

“Yes!” Xiang Jun poured him tea. “But he mentioned before going to sleep last night that he had been slacking. When I woke up, Senior Sister Long told me Senior Brother Yang roused before the sun was up in the sky. I think it has to do with you, Teacher! Now that you’re back, he can focus more on training!”

This has to do with me… Tian Hua gulped. Don’t tell me he’s gonna use me as a punching bag for his training.

“I see,” he replied and downed his cold, morning tea like it was booze. Tian Hua slammed the cup against the table, causing Xiang Jun to flinch. Afterwards, he grabbed a spoon and tasted the congee.

It took everything in him to stop himself from shedding tears. “Long Xinyue made this?”

“Yes, Teacher,” Xiang Jun seemed concerned. “Is it… not to your liking?”

“No, no,” he whispered. “It’s… delicious….”