Master Feng's question hung in the workshop, heavy and sharp as a guillotine. Young Master Lu flinched, his face a comical mixture of a student's terror and a child's giddy excitement. He looked at the perfect pill, then at his stern Master, and finally at the small, ragged boy standing calmly amidst the mess.
The old alchemist strode forward, completely ignoring his apprentice for the moment. He picked up the top-grade Cleansing Pill with a reverence usually reserved for sacred artifacts. He held it to the light, his sharp eyes scrutinizing the swirling patterns within. He sniffed it, his expression shifting from sternness to pure, unadulterated shock.
"Impossible," Master Feng breathed. "The purity… the balance… this is the work of a master." He finally turned his piercing gaze on his apprentice. "Lu, you have been failing this refinement for a month, creating nothing but slag and foul smoke. Explain. Now."
Lu swallowed hard. For a fleeting second, Li Xuan could see the temptation in the young man's eyes—the desire to take credit for this miracle, to finally earn his master's praise.
'Go on,' Li Xuan thought, a flicker of amusement in his mind. 'Lie. It would be far more entertaining.'
But Lu, to his credit, was an honest fool. He took a deep breath and pointed a trembling finger at Li Xuan.
"It was him, Master," Lu said, his voice filled with a genuine awe that was impossible to fake. "I… I just followed his instructions. Every word he said… it was like a divine revelation. He is the master here."
Master Feng's head slowly turned, his gaze finally settling on the insignificant-looking beggar boy he'd dismissed upon entering. He looked at Li Xuan, truly looked at him, and saw not a child, but an unnerving, ancient stillness.
'Finally,' Li Xuan thought with an internal sigh. 'The old man seems to have a few brain cells to rub together, unlike his apprentice. It only took him a full minute to identify the most important person in the room.'
"You?" Master Feng asked, his voice laced with deep skepticism. "A child, no older than seven, guided my apprentice to create a pill of this grade?"
Li Xuan met the master's gaze without flinching. "He was using a hammer to thread a needle," he stated simply. "I suggested he use his fingers instead."
The sheer, condescending arrogance of the statement left Master Feng speechless. He was about to demand a proper explanation when the main doors of the apothecary burst open with a violent crash, making everyone jump.
"Master Feng! Help!"
Two fierce-looking guards in the black and gold of the Yan Clan stormed inside, their faces pale with panic. Between them, they supported two children, a boy and a girl, who were limp and barely conscious.
"The Young Master and Young Miss!" the lead guard shouted. "They collapsed moments ago!"
Master Feng's professional demeanor took over instantly. "Bring them here!" he commanded, rushing to a clean examination table. The guards gently laid the two children down. They were deathly pale, their lips tinged with a faint blue, their breathing shallow and ragged. A network of faint, dark veins was visible on their necks, pulsing weakly.
The master alchemist's face grew grim as he began his examination. He checked their pulses, their spiritual energy, their pupils. The more he checked, the deeper his frown became. The arrogant apprentice, Chen, hovered nearby, looking useless.
Li Xuan watched the scene with a detached curiosity. The chaos of the mortals was, as always, predictable. But the symptoms… his divine mind cross-referenced the data in an instant.
'Silent Ghost venom,' he identified immediately. 'How amusingly provincial. A common mid-tier poison from the Ashen Age. Effective against mortals, but crude.'
After a long, tense silence, Master Feng stepped back, a look of utter defeat on his face. "I… I don't know," he admitted, his voice heavy. "It is not a known illness. Their life force is draining away, but I cannot find the cause."
The guards' faces went white with terror. The hope of the entire Yan Clan was dying on a table, and the best alchemist in town could do nothing.
In the dead, hopeless silence of the room, a single, soft voice cut through the air. It was calm, clear, and held not a trace of panic. It was a simple statement of fact.
"Poison."