The air in the workshop was thick with the scent of despair. Captain Gao stared at the two dying children, then at the still, silent form of the boy who was their only hope. The miracle on the table felt like a cruel joke.
It was Master Feng who finally broke the suffocating silence. He stood up, his old face set with a grim, hard-won resolve.
"We cannot wait," he declared, his voice a low rumble that commanded the room. "The formula is a work of genius, even if it is madness. I will begin the preparations."
Young Master Lu looked at him, his face pale. "But Master, without him… the steps are insane! The energies will clash!"
"I know," Master Feng said, his eyes fixed on the list of ingredients Li Xuan had written. "If the boy wakes up during the process, it will be a blessing. Otherwise," he took a deep, shuddering breath, "I will try my best. It is all we can do."
There were no more arguments. A grim, determined energy filled the room. Captain Gao and his men stood guard, their faces like stone. Lu, his earlier arrogance completely gone, became a silent, focused assistant, his eyes glued to his master.
Master Feng began. He laid out the bizarre array of ingredients on his workbench. The Starlight Petal, which glowed with a soft, cool light. The Sunstone Powder, which felt warm to the touch. The vial of Eagle-Eye Fern dew, clear as crystal. And the Ghost Centipede venom, a single drop of which could kill a grown man.
"Lu, prepare the cauldron," Master Feng commanded. "Standard purification."
As Lu worked, Master Feng began to process the initial herbs, his movements precise and practiced, honed by sixty years of alchemy. Yet, his hands trembled slightly. Every step he took went against a lifetime of training. He was mixing 'hot' Yang herbs with 'cold' Yin herbs in a sequence that every known text described as explosive.
'The boy's logic is a mystery,' Master Feng thought, his brow beaded with sweat. 'But his results are undeniable.'
He added the first few ingredients to the purified water in the cauldron. The mixture hissed, a violent battle of energies erupting within the pot. The cauldron began to shake, letting out a low, groaning sound. Master Feng poured his own Qi into it, a steady, powerful stream, fighting to stabilize the volatile concoction. It was like trying to contain a thunderstorm in a teacup.
For nearly an hour, the process continued. Master Feng, with Lu assisting, added ingredient after ingredient, each one causing the energies to flare and threaten to spiral out of control. The old master's face grew paler with each passing minute, the expenditure of his own Qi immense. But he held on. He had successfully, miraculously, created a stable, albeit chaotic, base for the antidote.
It was time for the final, most important step.
"The fern," he said, his voice strained.
Captain Gao carefully brought the Hundred-Year Sun-Kissed Fern over. Its life-giving aura was so potent it seemed to push back against the workshop's sterile air. Master Feng took a deep breath, focusing all his remaining energy. With a pair of silver tweezers, he plucked a single, jade-green leaf from the ancient plant.
The moment he dropped the leaf into the bubbling, chaotic mixture, the real crisis began.
An immense, overwhelming wave of pure life force erupted from the cauldron. It was not a gentle, healing energy; it was a violent, untamed explosion of vitality. The cauldron glowed with a green light so intense it cast sharp, dancing shadows across the workshop. A high-pitched scream, the sound of warring energies, filled the air, and a spiderweb of cracks began to form on the cauldron's surface.
"Master!" Lu shouted in terror.
"I can't… control it!" Master Feng gasped, pouring every last shred of his Qi into the cauldron, trying desperately to suppress the raging power. "It's too much! The life force is too pure, too strong!"
He was losing. The energies were about to break free in a devastating explosion. He gritted his teeth, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth from the sheer strain. It was over. He had failed.
In the corner of the room, on the small cot where he lay, Li Xuan's eyes snapped open.
They were still blurry, but they were focused, sharp, and held a light of ancient, calculating calm. He took in the entire scene in a single, instantaneous glance: the terrified onlookers, the cracking cauldron, and the failing old alchemist.
He didn't shout. He didn't even move from the cot.
His voice, though weak, cut through the chaos with absolute, unnerving authority.
"Stop trying to suppress it, you old fool. You're fighting a flood with a bucket."
He paused, letting his next, insane command hang in the air as Master Feng stared at him in disbelief.
"Let it burn. Now, add the Ghost Centipede venom."