Chapter 48: Something’s Wrong!
Ten minutes later, Professor Ye took off her glasses and carefully wiped them with a cloth, then delivered her conclusion without hesitation. “Something’s wrong. Extremely wrong.”
To be precise, ever since she’d taken on this apprentice, this was the first time she’d felt something so... wrong.
Right in front of them, Horsey, now in a post-feast stupor after devouring over fifty kilos of white-cut chicken the day before, was spinning its wheels like it owned the place. It swayed its rear and mudguard in a flashy, almost provocative way.
After cornering, jumping hurdles, rearing up to cruise, and running through a full set of ridiculous stunts, it even performed a “human-mech transformation.” From a scooter, it had turned into a... mechanical monstrosity that wasn’t quite human, but who knew what it was supposed to be. It had five legs, two tails, one head, and five eyes, with three on the front, and two on the rear turn signals growing out of its butt. It was a display of pure chaos.
As for deeper observation and scanning, they’d already run it through the workshop equipment countless times.
“Why don’t we just take it apart and see?” she suggested sincerely, her tone earnest, but her gaze turning dangerous. “Who knows, we might uncover something major. If we can figure it out, it could even lead to a breakthrough in modern alchemy.”
Ji Jue threw himself in front of it, on the verge of tears. “No, no, Professor, please don’t! It’s my buddy... no, it’s my Horsey! Without it, I’d be dead already.”
He really wanted to say, if anything, come at me instead, but leave my scooter alone.
On second thought, he realized, rather tragically, that his own research value probably wasn’t any lower than Horsey’s. If the professor burst out laughing and said she’d been waiting for him to say exactly that, wouldn’t he be completely screwed?
Meanwhile, Horsey continued performing stunts in a carefree manner, spinning in circles to catch the small chicken legs Ye Chun tossed to it. It still looked like it was longing for more after finishing one whole bag, so she ordered several more portions and kept throwing more chicken legs at it! She was practically scheming to join the White-Cut Chicken pantheon and seize the throne as the second God of Drumsticks!
Unfortunately, the pantheon had only one follower, and it was a dumb dog with some loose screws in its head...
Professor Ye sighed and adjusted her glasses. “Something is seriously wrong with it.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand what it was; in fact, she knew perfectly well. At a glance, she identified it as a residual aberration.
After hearing Ji Jue explain how it came into being, she had already fully understood what the scooter was. This was a mutated aberration born from the infusion of countless regrets and tortured spirit matters. At its core, it was a chaotic creation triggered by Ji Jue’s ability, combined with alchemical operations he had unconsciously carried out at the time.
Among the four major elements of alchemy, Elevation, Transformation, Purification had all been completely messed up.
Elevation, whose essence should be the sublimation of spirit matter, had been botched. Transformation, meant to distill blessings into their purest form, had resulted in a disaster. As for Purification, it had a ridiculous amount of impurities...
Only Harmony, which unified all others into one, had been executed to an absurdly high degree. The scooter had practically freed itself from Ji Jue’s ability constraints, becoming an independent life form. It was as outrageous as a professor researching hydroponics discovering a fresh cabbage sprout growing out of some auntie’s pickling jar in the middle of a freezing winter!
I understand the theory, but how on earth did you pull off something this abstract in actual execution? What happened? How did you do it? How was this even possible?
She knew asking was pointless, so she went straight to the main issue, her sharp gaze locked on Ji Jue. “Tell me, what were you thinking at the time?”
“Uh...” Ji Jue froze, speechless. After thinking for a long while, something finally came back to him. His pupils trembled as he stammered, “The situation was really dangerous and urgent back then. I saw Ms. Wen losing ground. How could a righteous person like me just stand by? So, I bravely charged forward...”
Professor Ye interrupted him, “I’m asking what you were thinking at that moment.”
“Well, I was filled with determination and pressed forward without hesitation, as I wanted to contribute to justice—”
“I’m asking again, what exactly were you thinking?” Professor Ye interrupted once more, enunciating each word. Her patience was wearing thin.
After hemming and hawing for quite a while, Ji Jue averted his gaze and shrank back like a guilty dog. “I was scared out of my mind. All I could think was that I couldn’t die like that. If I died, I wouldn’t get to eat Mrs. Lu’s white-cut chicken anymore, and that would be such a waste.”
The workshop was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The only sound was the steady thud of chicken drumsticks hitting the ground.
The corner of Professor Ye’s eye twitched once, twice, thrice.
Case solved. Finally, damn it, the case is solved.
At last, she understood why a mutated aberration born from so much resentment and pain had turned into this... absurd thing, completely devoid of any lethality or threat. The problem was right at the starting point!
This could genuinely be the most harmless aberration in history, and the most worthless piece of Divine Creation.
Because if this thing had a brain, it was probably filled with white-cut chicken! And it was not even picky about it either; it loved chicken breast, drumsticks, and even the butt. It’d eat anything that came its way with its mouth wide open.
Perhaps for a fleeting moment, through sheer coincidence and the convergence of countless factors, everything had achieved perfect unity and balance. After Lawrence’s death, the monster born from dragon blood and suffering was about to hatch. And that “button[1]” had somehow ended up in Ji Jue’s hands because of his ability.
He could have created a beast to devour Cliff City, or forged an endless army of rusted machines. He could have used this power to produce a truly Divine Creation. Instead, on a whim, he made a shitty chicken-obsessed scooter...
Professor Ye removed her glasses, her fingers trembling slightly. She sighed.
“Your caution is justified, Ji Jue. Whatever you do, do not let anyone know you created this. No... unless it’s absolutely necessary, never go around showing off its origins. Do you understand? Otherwise, there’ll be enormous trouble waiting for you.”
“It’s that incredible?!” Ji Jue’s eyes went wide, only for his expression to flip into overwhelming delight a second later. “Then does that mean it—”
“No. To anyone other than you, the creator, it has absolutely no value,” Professor Ye said flatly. “What you should worry about... is your own personal safety!”
Half of the scooter was a genuine aberration, the other half a questionable Divine Creation. The perfectly good dragon blood had been kneaded and mangled into a complete mess. What should have been a prime, luxury standalone mansion in the heart of the city had been taken by this kid and forcibly remodeled into a garbage dump.
It had turned into junk... And not just any junk, but unprecedented, high-spec junk!
A little scooter with dragon-blood engine oil running through it, capable of hitting four to five hundred kilometers per hour? What on earth were you thinking? Do you even realize that a single gram of dragon blood of this purity could be traded for a supercar of the same speed?
Do you understand that in alchemy, even a single ounce of dragon blood is enough to push a work that’s already at its limit into a true Divine Creation? It could even elevate a Divine Creation to an even higher level!
In a quiet voice, Professor Ye said, “If anyone finds out that all that coveted material turned into this, you’ll be hunted by every craftsman, Ji Jue. Even the grandmaster, Divine Furnace, might want to crush you.”
Ji Jue froze, dumbfounded. Once he confirmed she wasn’t joking, his face twitched. Then, thinking about who his biggest backer was, he instinctively forced out a fawning smile and leaned in. “Luckily, you weren’t thinking of crushing me, Professor. You’re the best!”
Ye Xian’s expression stiffened. For a moment, she actually hesitated. Maybe she really should just crush him before he went on to do something that would disgrace the school. If anyone ever found out that this walking disaster was her student, she’d never be able to hold her head up again in either the alchemy world or academia! And yet, she also understood even more so than before just how strange fate could be.
In alchemy, the most supreme and greatest creations were referred to as mandates by the divine beings. Compared to the final result, the craftsmen themselves were nothing more than mediums through which creation was carried out, stand-ins for the hand of fate—the true outcome had already been decided by the heavens. Long before the item was born, long before the materials were ever placed into the furnace, it had already been chosen by some unseen destiny. It was a work completed by the heavens through your hands.
What every craftsman pursued throughout their life was precisely that kind of experience and achievement, as though bestowed by heaven itself. The self was never just an individual, but a convergence of all causes and phenomena in this world. The fire within the furnace was formed by the flowing of Supreme Benevolence, and the creation within the crucible was forged by Divine Creation!
That was why the greatest alchemical works were called Divine Creations.
Unfortunately, over the past several hundred years, countless craftsmen had passed down their knowledge like an unbroken flame. The fire in the furnace had spread from one too many across the entire land. There were plenty of works praised as Divine Creations, but those that could truly be called creations of Destiny itself were exceedingly rare.
If, to the Supreme Benevolence Ember, everything in the mortal world was a forge of destiny, could the task before Professor Ye also be considered a part of that Divine Creation?
There was no doubt about it. This was a genuine Chosen One. A Chosen One, favored by Ember, stood right before her.
Craftsmen often said, “Ember is generous and creates without limit.” Among the Twelve Supreme Benevolences, compared to the others, Ember was indeed the most lavish. For the Chosen Ones they favored, they spared no cost and expected no return.
But, unfortunately, the saying had a second half: “Ember is cruel, showing no mercy to the mediocre.”
The more favored a Chosen One was, the more trials they would have to endure. Once their ability and performance failed to match the blessings they had received, the favor of the Embers would withdraw without hesitation, fading away completely. When that happened, even what had already been gained would become far more prone to losing control and mutating into aberration.
Just like those defective works in the warehouse that Ye Xian had personally discarded. Even if they had once been showered with boundless favor, the moment they took a wrong step, even the slightest mistake would send them straight into the abyss. They were left to gather dust for ages, enduring in silence, yet never again noticed until, in oblivion, they turned completely into dust.
The Ember Path was a cruel one. From the very moment you stepped onto it, the forging of your Divine Creation had already begun, and it was destined to be filled with turmoil and hardship.
But after enduring so many twists, setbacks, and trials, how many could truly make it to the end of destiny?
Professor Ye wiped her glasses and sighed. “Your life may end up being far more difficult than you imagine, Ji Jue.”
“Huh?”
Ji Jue blinked in confusion, reaching out to pet Horsey, who was frantically smearing its slobber over him, utterly perplexed.
Ye Xian opened her mouth several times, only to close it again. Every time she met those calm yet joyful eyes, she fell silent again. She had seen that gaze too many times, in too many people.
For some people, nothing was better than a smooth, uneventful life, which was safe and steady from beginning to end.
But for others, it was not like that at all. No matter how much they said things like “as long as life goes on, it’s fine” or “being happy is what matters most,” when the moment of choice actually came, they headed in the exact opposite direction decisively and resolutely without hesitation.
They would chase after some vague, intangible light, stumbling and struggling all the way. No matter how rough the road got, they still found their own kind of joy in it. Even if they knew full well that what lay ahead was a dead end, they refused to turn back. People like that didn’t need anyone else criticizing the way they lived.
She simply said, “It’s nothing. I just feel like... You’ll finally live a life where you actually make something of yourself.”
“Really?” Ji Jue’s eyes lit up, and the corners of his mouth curled into a grin.
“As long as you don’t end up killing yourself with your own antics, then... probably.” Professor Ye withdrew her gaze and walked toward the furnace ahead. “Come on, time for class.”
“Oh, oh, alright! Nice!”
Ji Jue clenched his fists in excitement and eagerly followed after her without the slightest hesitation, and without ever looking back.
1. Murasaki here, I think the author is referring to a Big Red Button of Doom you aren’t supposed to touch unless it’s an emergency. But it’s just a guess. ☜
