You couldn't blame the recruiter for looking so stunned, nor did it surprise anyone that the crowd went quiet when Ethan Moore declared he was applying to be an assistant alchemist.
Even though Raozhou was the capital of the Chenyu Domain, certified assistant alchemists were extremely rare—actual alchemists, even rarer. Those few who did exist were all well-aged elders. A young assistant alchemist like Ethan? Not only was he unheard of in Chenyu, but even across the Hanstar Empire, such prodigies could be counted on one hand. Someone with Ethan's apparent talent was seen as a future star—barring disaster, he was all but guaranteed to become a true alchemist one day.
An original assistant alchemist's certificate? Ethan's heart sank. They wanted paperwork—something he absolutely did not possess.
He glanced around and finally understood the looks of amazement (and suspicion) swirling around him. Clearing his throat, Ethan feigned composure. "I haven't had a chance to take the official assistant alchemist exam yet, but my skills are already at that level."
A wave of winces and muttered groans rolled through the onlookers. The mood shifted. Now those eyes on him were less envious, more dubious.
The recruiter's face also darkened, her former courtesy giving way to cold caution—though she held her temper and calmly pressed on, "Which academy did you graduate from? Who was your mentor?"
Ethan scanned everyone in line; suddenly, he noticed many clutching a small booklet. Glancing at the applicant nearest him, he glimpsed the bold print: "Raozhou Institute of Mining & Resources—Certificate of Completion."
Now it was Ethan's turn to grimace. He hadn't realized that, just like back home, a diploma was a non-negotiable ticket to even get through the door. Apparently, whatever job he sought—without that certificate—he'd have no luck.
The recruiter's expression was growing more severe by the second. With an awkward smile, Ethan chuckled, "Uh, well…I'm self-taught. No academy record, no mentor. Just picked things up on my own."
At last, the tension snapped—a burst of laughter rang out. So the dazzling "young alchemist" was just a deluded clown?
But the recruiter was not amused. Her stare grew frosty. Shengling Elixir Workshop was a top-tier institution, and here someone was wasting her time with jokes?
Sensing trouble, Ethan braced himself. But before anyone could erupt, a mocking voice sliced through the moment:
"Well, if it isn't His Highness himself! The court is in session! What brings our lord to the guild hall today, eh? No need to preside over court in the woods? Oh—my mistake! His Highness is here on royal inspection. Pardon my rudeness—I must pay my respects!"
The words dripped with sarcasm; there was not a drop of respect in them.
Ethan turned to see a casually dressed young man in gray approach—someone he vaguely remembered from last night, one of the group with Maggie Wen. The boy had striking looks, but there was an empty arrogance in his expression.
"Oh, he's from North Qin, isn't he…" Murmured the recruiter, realization dawning. The anger drained from her face—how could she be upset at someone everyone knew wasn't all there?
The crowd erupted with laughter. To them, Ethan Moore was a comedy act.
"Xu Zhao, you think this is funny?" A cold, clear voice reverberated through the room. Instantly, the laughter died away, cut off as though someone had closed a door.
A girl in a lilac dress stood in the doorway—slender and elegant, her long hair falling over delicate shoulders. Her beauty made the entire guild fade into the background. It wasn't just her looks—everyone here knew who she was. Maggie Wen, only daughter of Lord Wen, Marquis of Raozhou.
A marquis meant nothing in the great Hanstar Empire. But here in the guild hall of Raozhou, she carried real weight.
"Maggie…" Xu Zhao stammered, face flushing with embarrassment. Seeing Maggie's icy glare, he quickly bit back the words he'd prepared and shrank into the crowd. Now he regretted cracking that joke; Maggie's opinion of him was ruined in an instant. Not so long ago, he'd defended Ethan Moore in front of her—but that one mocking sentence had revealed his true nature.
Ignoring Xu Zhao, Maggie Wen walked up to Ethan, withdrew a cloth pouch, and offered it to him. "Xavier, take this to Luna Yates."
The jingle of coins told Ethan immediately what it was—gold. For Ethan, desperate for money, even a single silver would've been priceless, let alone a bag of gold.
Ethan felt neither gratitude nor resentment toward Maggie Wen. He knew from both his own experience and Xavier's memories that, in tough times, people like Maggie Wen who left were being simply realistic. If the Moore family fell and Xavier lost his mind, of course Maggie Wen would move on. Loyalty, through sickness and despair, was rare; most people only stuck around for the good times. If Maggie stood by through both, that would be a miracle.
For Ethan, people like her held no appeal—no matter how beautiful they might be. What he sought was loyalty, not handouts. He might need money, but he had no interest in taking it from Maggie. His pride wouldn't let him; he would make his own way.
It was Luna Yates who stayed by his side—Luna who never abandoned him. Where could you find another girl like that? Ethan understood just how precious she was, for he had lived through loss and betrayal.
"If it's for Luna Yates, give it to her yourself," Ethan said with a cool smile. He turned to leave, but paused after a few steps. Looking back over his shoulder, he added, "Oh, and my name is Ethan Moore now, not Xavier. Ethan means 'without taboos,' but even I have some lines I won't cross."
Maggie Wen's heart fluttered at his words—was he changing his name? As he started off again, she hurried after him, voice anxious: "Xavier…Ethan, Luna Yates refused the money. Please, just—"
Luna refused? Ethan nearly laughed. That girl truly understood him—they matched, perfectly.
"My family's mining workshop is hiring. If you're interested, you could—" Maggie suddenly felt a pang of something new. The Ethan standing before her now was a stranger: proud, unyielding, no longer a fallen dreamer clinging to his old title.
Ethan stopped a final time and looked her in the eye. "I don't belong in the mud, bound to a miner's life, nor do I care to be someone's assistant alchemist. If I do anything, I'll be a true alchemist—or nothing at all!"
With a burst of laughter—reckless and bold—he strode away.
The confidence wasn't an act; it came from deep within. Compared to the woman who betrayed him in his last life, Maggie Wen was infinitely better—at least she was honest. How many years had he wasted, so obsessed with his research that he failed to see the women around him for what they truly were?
Living a second time, Ethan Moore swore he would never make the same mistake again.
Laughter broke out again in the main hall as Ethan walked away. No one believed he was serious; most thought his madness had simply shifted from dreams of being a prince to dreams of being an alchemist.
They might have believed the prince fantasy held a sliver of hope, but the alchemist's path? To everyone here, it was utterly impossible.