I am tired. I don't want to love, and I don't want to work either.
The last portion of materials exploded before her eyes. Yao Ranran pressed her lips tightly together and said nothing.
"Yao Daoyou… I still have some spirit herbs in hand…"
"No need."
Yao Ranran shook her head. Her hands rested within her sleeves, the hem of her dress flowing softly like petals. She turned toward the elder.
"Grandpa Yang, is the sacrificial ceremony about to begin?"
Elder Yang tugged at his messy beard and stood. His back was hunched like a turtle's shell, his thin, withered neck stretching forward, bones sharp beneath his aging skin.
He chuckled warmly. "You remember well. Yes, it is time. The sacrificial ceremony is about to start."
Mu Jialing rose with him. His calm eyes swept quickly toward the small gate at the back courtyard. From beyond it appeared Yu Zhenyan, dressed in a gown patterned with a hundred birds, her steps light and delicate. She gave him the slightest shake of her head.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Mu Jialing's eyes. Things were far more troublesome than he had expected.
"I already promised Fortress Master Yan I would attend the sacrificial ceremony. Alchemy practice can wait. Are you all going to attend as well?" Yao Ranran wiped the ash and soot from her face and looked at them.
"This humble monk will accompany Fairy Ranran." Mu Jialing answered immediately.
Yu Zhenyan quickly followed, "Of course, I will go too!"
"No, not now…" Pei Xianqiao blurted, trying to stop them from leaving.
The three turned to her in surprise.
Pei Xianqiao grew flustered, her eyes darting toward Mu Jialing for help. But thinking better of it, she fixed her gaze on Yao Ranran instead, her tone hurried and nervous. "You finally found the feel of it. Right now is the best moment for alchemy. If you give up halfway, it will be even harder to succeed in the future!"
The feel of it?
There was such a thing?
Yao Ranran lowered her head in confusion, staring at her hands blackened from smoke and fire. They only felt clumsier than ever…
As she looked down, Pei Xianqiao threw Mu Jialing a pleading glance.
For some reason, when Mu Jialing met her eyes, his first instinct was to shield her, to find an excuse to stay.
But when Yao Ranran lifted her gaze again, her clear and refined eyes seemed to carry light within them. That light struck his heart.
Mu Jialing faltered, as if hearing the toll of temple bells pulling him back to clarity.
The faces before him grew sharper, every subtle change of expression falling into place. He knew he should not go back on his word. He had said he would attend the ceremony. That was what he must do.
He withdrew his gaze. His expression turned calm and detached, merciful yet distant, like the visage of a Buddha. Fingering his prayer beads, he lowered his lips to softly chant sutras.
Yao Ranran spoke calmly. "Pei Daoyou, I do not feel this so-called hand sense. Perhaps I am far from it still. Better we attend the ceremony first."
Pei Xianqiao's eyes flicked toward Mu Jialing's indifferent face. Growing desperate, she grabbed Yao Ranran's sleeve. "You cannot leave. Alchemy sense doesn't come easily. Yao Daoyou, don't you wish to become an alchemist?"
"No." Yao Ranran did not hesitate. The answer came instantly.
Pei Xianqiao and Yu Zhenyan were both stunned.
"You don't want to become an alchemist? Then why are you even learning?" Yu Zhenyan could not comprehend. Was this woman pretending again?
Yao Ranran spread her hands. "I was only bored waiting for the ceremony. Grandpa Yang mentioned alchemy on a whim, so I tried it."
All eyes turned to Elder Yang. He shrank his gaze guiltily, avoiding Pei Xianqiao's stare. Chuckling awkwardly, he clasped his hands behind his back and shuffled toward the rear courtyard.
"Oh, didn't I pickle a few jars of vegetables the other day? Let me go check them."
Laughing, he scurried away, leaving only his hunched back.
It had been nothing more than a sudden impulse to teach someone alchemy. Who could have guessed he would meet a "genius" so hopeless she could never succeed no matter how he taught? Worse yet, she had grown interested and refused to let him go. Luckily, a Sixth Rank alchemist had arrived to take this hot potato off his hands.
Otherwise, he might have died from sheer frustration.
Pei Xianqiao froze in place. So it wasn't Yao Ranran who had asked to learn. Elder Yang had been the one to suggest it…
No wonder. Elder Yang must have realized how impossibly bad Yao Ranran's alchemy was, so he shoved her into her hands to torment her spirit.
Pei Xianqiao burned with a mix of anger and helplessness.
Yao Ranran, however, seemed to understand at last. She tested gently, "Pei Daoyou, you just want me to stay here with Grandpa Yang a while longer, don't you?"
Pei Xianqiao nodded reflexively, then quickly added, "I mean, I want to teach you properly!"
"Is that so…" "I believe you… like hell!"
Yao Ranran's anger flared.
In that instant, she finally realized why every furnace she touched had exploded. It was because this woman had never truly taught her. She only wanted to stall for time, lingering in Grandpa Yang's home.
That could only mean the methods she had passed on were full of flaws.
So it wasn't that Yao Ranran was hopeless at alchemy after all.
With that revelation, the fog that had weighed on her heart lifted. Sunlight of hope poured through her chest, warming her entirely. Her lips curved upward, unstoppable.
"Pei Daoyou, I appreciate your good intentions. Do not worry. I will succeed in alchemy."
Confidence filled her stride.
"Fózǐ, Yu Daoyou, let's go!"
Her head lifted high, steps firm with pride.
Yu Zhenyan gave her a strange look, swallowing down her words. "I'll wait until we're outside to say anything."
Mu Jialing's gaze did not stray, prayer beads turning in his fingers as he followed in silence.
As the last hope in her heart departed, Pei Xianqiao bit her lip and glanced toward the small courtyard gate.
Empty. Only a clay jar sat by the threshold. She stepped closer cautiously.
"Ah!"
The plain jar suddenly opened a pair of narrow eyes. The pupils slanted upward with a compassionate gleam, quietly watching her.
Pei Xianqiao jumped back with a muffled cry.
But Yao Ranran and the others had gone too far to hear.
"What troubles the honored guest?" Elder Yang stood at the small gate, one arm clutching the clay jar, the other cradling a statue of the Wise Buddha, smiling at her.
Pei Xianqiao retreated a step. "N-nothing, Grandpa Yang. I am going to the ceremony now!"
She lowered her head, avoiding his gaze, and hurried away with her skirts gathered.
"Oh, if honored guest is fine, that is good." Elder Yang's voice echoed faintly behind her.
She walked out of the courtyard calmly, but the moment fresh air touched her face, her mind flashed back to the scene just now.
She had seen it clearly. Elder Yang had dropped from above the gate, body twisting like a lizard. He had pulled those eyes from the jar itself, then cradled the little figure atop it as he spoke with her!
Cold dread seeped from her spine, inching upward like a centipede crawling along her back.
Pei Xianqiao's pupils shrank in horror. Lifting her skirts, she fled quickly.