"So… what's your ranking?" Wang Gu asked, his eyes sparkling.
Lian paused for a moment, deep in thought.
"I think I can just about manage flawless draconic-rank pills," he muttered.
"What?!"
Both Wang Gu and Lou Yi's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in disbelief.
"Why would they send such talent on a dangerous mission? Any sect would be trying their best to protect a shining star like this," Lou Yi thought silently.
"You are truly incredible, brother," Wang Gu said, a huge grin stretching across his face.
"We are so rich." He spoke under his breath.
"What!" Lian exclaimed.
"Hehe, hehehe," Wang Gu began to laugh uncontrollably.
"Shit… I have a bad feeling. I have never seen him so excited before." Lian shrouded, stepping back a little.
"Do you know that only one in ten thousand cultivators even have the qualifications to become a refiner? Your talent truly knows no bounds."
Before Lian could respond, Wang Gu suddenly grabbed him and pulled him forward, leading him through the streets.
Lou Yi hesitated for a moment before following behind, her hands fidgeting slightly.
They passed through a flurry of shops, each with a different sign hanging above its gate. Every now and then, people would stop and stare as they moved past.
It must be because of our looks, they all thought as fingers pointed and whispers followed them.
Finally, they reached the far end of the city.
"This is the Alchemic Association, brother," Wang Gu said, pushing open the door.
"They have the best facilities for refining. They'll even give you discounts on herbs—talent is something they value highly here.
Inside was pristine. The floor was tiled with smooth, grey, polished stone, and the walls were clean and white. At the far end of the hall stood a long brown counter that stretched from one wall to the other.
Everywhere, alchemists moved about in tall white robes and open-topped hats. Most of them were old men, people who had clearly lived for at least two centuries.
At one side of the room, a large blackboard stood against the wall, and several alchemists gathered before it, arguing softly as they discussed refinement theories and pill formulas.
Lian stepped forward toward the reception desk. Behind it sat an elderly man with a smug expression. He didn't even look up at them until Lian deliberately cleared his throat.
"Good day," Lian said calmly. "Are there any refinement rooms we can borrow?"
The old man had whisker-like moustaches that drooped from his upper lip. His eyes swept over Lian's group from head to toe, slow and judgmental.
"Hmph. Savages," he glared.
"They think just anyone can be an alchemist these days. Rough faces, unrefined manners… are they even refiners? They'll only waste our rooms. And those faces—utterly hideous. Letting them in would lower the image of the Alchemic Association itself."
"This place is reserved for alchemists," the old man said coldly. He didn't even bother facing them. Instead, he picked up a book from the desk and began reading.
"We don't lend refinement rooms to just anyone, only real alchemist allowed to get rooms here."
"But I am, sir."
Lian reached into his spirit book, but made it look as though he was reaching into his pocket. A moment later, he produced a small vial containing a pill he felt was his finest work so far.
The moment he placed it on the desk, a faint yet profound fragrance spread through the air.
The receptionist's head snapped up.
His eyes locked onto the vial. He snatched it from the table and opened it without hesitation. Using his Qi, he lifted the pill into the air, letting it hover before him. He adjusted his monocle and began inspecting it carefully.
"So much condensed energy…
The pill is actively absorbing Qi from the surroundings.
And those soft grooves—pill veins, almost formed.
A flawless pill… It's only half a step away from tressure pill."
The man's eyes flicked back to Lian, sharp and suspicious.
"You—what do you take me for?" he barked.
Lian was taken aback.
"What does he mean?
Is there something wrong with it? I refined it exactly according to the ranking records… this should at least be mid-grade."
"Do you expect me to believe," the man continued coldly, "that you refined a pill of this grade?"
He snorted.
"Tsk. You must have found this in some ruins and came here to boast, claiming it as your own creation."
Lian stared at him, utterly confused.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Senior, if you don't believe me, I can refine it again for you."
As their voices rose, a small crowd began to gather around them. Alchemists nearby paused their work, their attention drawn by the commotion.
"Yes… perfect.
Now everyone will see this fool degrading the association."
The receptionist's lips curled into a crude smile.
"Brother," he called out loudly, raising his voice even further, "would you please come take a look?"
He leaned back slightly, confidence flooding his posture.
"I'll make a wager with him.
When he fails, the treasure pill will be mine.
And now that I've made a scene, he won't be able to refuse."