The next morning, the sun had barely crested over the distant peaks when Wan Long arrived before the Alchemy Hall's jade platform. Rows of newly promoted alchemists stood in line, their faces glowing with pride as they received their tokens.
When his turn came, Elder Bai herself handed him a slender token inscribed with a swirling azure flame. The token shimmered faintly—proof of his qualification as a Tier 1 Alchemist.
"From this day forward," Elder Bai said lightly, "you will reside in the Alchemy Hall's outer disciple quarters. Continue to refine your craft."
Wan Long bowed deeply. "Yes, Elder."
As he turned to leave, he could already feel the gazes on him—dozens of disciples, both servants and outer alchemists alike, whispering behind their sleeves.
"Who is that?"
"Never seen him before…"
"They say he was a servant disciple just yesterday!"
"That can't be—how could a servant become an alchemist in one night?"
The murmurs followed him all the way to the residential wing. The Alchemy Hall's outer quarters were reserved for certified alchemists—spacious rooms filled with the faint scent of herbs and spirit incense. As he entered the courtyard, several disciples paused their discussions, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.
One of them, a short and sharp-tongued youth, couldn't help but speak aloud.
"Impossible… even the most gifted disciples take at least three years to pass the first-tier exam!"
Another nodded grimly. "Elder Bai herself oversaw the test. If he passed under her eyes, then it must be true… maybe he found some kind of ancient inheritance or treasure."
"An encounter…" someone whispered. "A lucky servant who stumbled upon a fortune. Typical."
Wan Long ignored them all. He was long used to the gazes of jealousy. After all, they didn't know that his "encounter" came in the form of a mysterious system that could turn trash into treasure.
As he placed his belongings inside his new quarters, the sect bells echoed across the valley. Beyond the serene sound, however, a different storm was already brewing.
Far away, within the Task Hall, Wang Ping slammed his hand against the armrest of his chair, his face twisted with anger.
"What did you just say!?" he barked.
The servant before him trembled. "Y-Young Master Wang, the records say that Wan Long… has passed the Alchemy Hall examination. He's now a certified first-tier alchemist."
"An alchemist!?" Wang Ping's eyes bulged. His voice dropped to a venomous whisper.
"That worthless rat I assigned to the test division as a 'test subject'? That thing was supposed to be crippled, not crafting pills!"
He rose to his feet, his expression dark.
"How… how did he even survive? that place should've been his grave!"
The servant dared not speak.
Wang Ping paced, fists clenched. "So the fool actually stumbled into fortune. Fine…" He narrowed his eyes, a cruel smile creeping across his lips. "Let's see how long that luck lasts."
He turned to the trembling servant.
"Send word to 'our alchemy disciples'. Tell them to keep an eye on this 'Wan Long.' I want every detail—who he talks to, what pills he refines, where he goes. Understand?"
"Yes, Young Master!"
As the servant scurried away, Wang Ping's expression darkened further. His father was an outer sect elder—one word from him could make or break a disciple's fate. But now wan long had became an Alchemist, it will be very hard to eliminate him.
.....
Wan Long pushed open the door to his assigned quarters within the Alchemy Hall.
A soft fragrance of spirit herbs drifted through the air. The room was spacious—far larger than the cramped servant huts he had lived in for years. There was even a small courtyard with a stone table and a spiritual lamp fueled by a low-grade spirit stone.
He exhaled slowly, eyes sweeping across the neatly arranged alchemy shelves, the small pill furnace at the corner, and the array formation carved faintly into the floor—a low-grade spirit gathering formation that ensured the flow of spiritual energy remained constant.
"This is what being a disciple feels like," he murmured.
On the table lay a folded set of robes—pure white with an azure flame embroidered over the chest.
The symbol of a certified alchemist of the Holy Flame Sect.
He removed his plain servant garb and carefully donned the new uniform. The fabric was light, infused with a subtle trace of spiritual energy to keep the wearer refreshed during long refining sessions.
Looking at his reflection in the polished bronze mirror, Wan Long couldn't help but smile faintly.
From a nameless servant… to a disciple of the Alchemy Hall.
The change was more than just clothing—it was a new identity.
He touched the jade token at his waist and checked the attached permissions.
Outer Disciple Privileges :
Monthly contribution stipend: 30 points
Monthly ration: 5 Qi Nourishment Pills
Permission to accept Sect Alchemy Commissions
His eyes brightened at the list.
Before, as a servant, he barely earned five contribution points a month—barely enough to trade for a single low-grade pill. Now, as an alchemist, he had access to real resources.
"I can finally use the outer sect library properly…" he muttered, already thinking of the advanced manuals and formulas he could study.
Outside, faint voices echoed through the courtyard walls—disciples gossiping as they passed.
"Did you hear? That new alchemist, Wan Long, was a servant disciple just last week!"
"They say Elder Bai personally handed him the token."
"Maybe… he's from some hidden family pretending to be a servant!"
Wan Long chuckled softly, shaking his head.
Rumors—inevitable, but harmless.
He wasn't worried about what others said. What mattered was that he now had a stable identity.
As he sat cross-legged in the courtyard, he called out the System panel.
[Status Panel]
Name: Wan Long
Age: 17 / 63
Cultivation Realm: Body Tempering – 9th Level
Spiritual Root: Chaos low grade Root
Recycle Points: 171,000
Cultivation Technique: Moon Breathing Technique (Mid-Grade Purple Tier)
Cultivation Skills: None
Ability: Azure Fire Control (Low-Grade Heaven Tier – Perfect Proficiency)
Sub-Profession: Tier 1 Alchemist
Inventory: Spiritual Energy – 86,200 days (≈ 230 years)......
Wan Long's eyes widened slightly at the number flashing before him.
"Eighty-six thousand days… over two hundred and thirty years worth of energy?"
He sucked in a slow breath, the weight of that realization sinking in.
It sounded like a monumental amount — enough to propel a mortal cultivator through multiple realms — but he understood the truth beneath the illusion.
"Measured against my current root and technique…" he murmured. "It's actually not that much."
His Chaos low grade Root was precisely that — low. Even enhanced once by the system, its efficiency in absorbing and converting spiritual energy was limited. The Moon Breathing Technique was powerful for steady cultivation, but it didn't multiply absorption or refinement speed drastically.
He estimated that with his current root and technique, he could only utilize a small portion of that stored energy effectively — perhaps a hundred and twenty years at most — before spiritual saturation occurred.
He sighed quietly, leaning back against the courtyard wall.
"If I want to progress faster… I'll need to improve both my spiritual root and cultivation technique," he thought. "Otherwise, all that energy will just sit there like water in a sealed jar or wasted when i try to use it....."
The idea made him smile faintly. To think — a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have dared to imagine having so much spiritual energy stored. Now, he was frustrated that he couldn't absorb it fast enough.
His gaze lingered on the line Recycle Points: 171,000.
That was his lifeline. His hidden weapon.
"With enough RP, I can do anything — upgrade my roots, evolve techniques, even push my alchemy further…"
Wan Long's eyes gleamed with quiet determination as he closed the panel. But his ambitions didn't end with alchemy alone.
He had no intention of quitting his cleaning job.
In fact, it was the opposite.
That job — despised by others — had become his greatest advantage.
A small, knowing smile curved his lips.
"Since Senior Brother Chen is gone… no one is currently coordinating the cleaning of the Alchemy Hall's inner chambers and the elders' private rooms."
That position used to be semi-permanent — responsible for managing servant teams, distributing assignments, and ensuring the elders' quarters remained spotless. Chen's death in that furnace explosion had left the spot vacant.
Wan Long planned to quietly take it over.
Not officially, of course — but subtly. He had already earned Elder Su praise, and even the senior disciples in charge of logistics now viewed him as reliable. A few words, a few favors… and soon, that entire section of work would fall under his authority.
Once he coordinated the inner hall cleaning, he would have unrestricted access to those private rooms.
Each elder's chamber was a treasure trove — abandoned materials, discarded pills, residue from failed experiments — all of it, potential fuel for the System's Recycle Function.
He leaned back against the stone bench, tapping his fingers lightly.
For now, his cultivation level still limited him to the Alchemy Hall. The other peaks — Sword Hall, Martial Peak..... — were beyond his current reach. Outer disciples from those divisions held more authority and power.
"But the Alchemy Hall is enough for now," he murmured. "With the resources here, I can accumulate enough RP to strengthen my roots, techniques, and body. Once I step into the Core Foundation Realm, then I'll start looking beyond this peak."
His thoughts turned toward another goal — the sect's main library.
Now that he was an official outer disciple, his identity token granted him limited access to the lower floors. That was where the sect stored countless manuals on combat arts, defensive techniques, and cultivation methods.
"Alchemy gives me resources," he said quietly, "but strength… strength gives me freedom."
His current situation was stable, but not safe. The memory of Wang Ping's twisted expression when he last saw him flashed briefly in his mind. That man wouldn't let things go easily — not after losing face.
Wan Long's eyes hardened slightly.
He needed power to protect what he had built.
"Tomorrow, after coordinating the cleaning rounds… I'll visit the main library," he decided. "It's time I learned a proper combat technique."
He rose, adjusting his new alchemist robes — deep azure trimmed in silver, signifying his outer disciple status. The faint scent of herbs clung to the fabric, but beneath it was a different presence entirely — the quiet, measured confidence of someone no longer bound by servitude.
The sky outside had dimmed to a soft gold, the evening sun bathing the Alchemy Hall in warm light. Servant disciples hurried past him, whispering enviously.
"Is that the new alchemist? The one who passed the exam in one day?"
"I heard even Elder Bai praised him personally…"
"He's still living near the servant quarters, though. Maybe he's just modest."
Wan Long smiled faintly at their words but said nothing. He preferred it that way — the fewer eyes truly saw him, the easier it would be to grow unnoticed.