7:
The first difference between the Frontier Sect’s Martial Division and it’s Alchemy Division came in the form of an overpowering aroma that enveloped him the very moment he stepped inside the premises. It took him a few moments to register that it was not merely one aroma wafting in the air, rather a melange of many.
There was a powerful scent that had a medicinal edge to it, reminding him of camphor. A sweet, cozy aroma scent that his mind associated with vanilla extract. There was a burst of strong citrus, a savory heaviness that resembled roasted garlic and many others that he could not yet place.
Only as the double-doors behind him clanged shut was Xiao Feng snapped out of his reverie. He finally took note of the cultivator standing before him, his hands clasped behind his back as he studied Xiao Feng.
The first thing Xiao Feng noticed was the man’s aged features. Strands of gray lightly populated his otherwise balding head, his visage betraying his age in a manner few cultivator’s did. Sagging cheeks, fine lines running across the forehead and thinning lips would not reflect easily on a cultivator’s visage, given their resistance to physically aging and the availability of pills that allowed one to retain a youthful appearance for far longer as long as their dantian was intact.
Then, he noted the aged cultivator’s aura. The pressure he, or rather, his Qi was subconsciously exerting on its surroundings did not give him the same sense of casual oppression Elder Haoyun exerted. It was more diffused, gentler in comparison— yet that did not change the fact that he was likely looking at a cultivator of the Core Formation stage.
“Never seen an old man before, kid?” The aged man finally broke the silence that had taken hold between them, his tone carrying a bit of a bite.
“Sorry, uh, Alchemist,” Xiao Feng hurriedly apologized after realizing that he’d been caught staring.
“That’s Grand Alchemist Xin Wu to you,” He retorted, giving Xiao Feng the impression that he wasn’t nearly as welcome in the Alchemy Division as he had been in the Martial one. “Now, why exactly, are you here?”
Xiao Feng reigned in his instinct to respond immediately and allowed himself to consider the question. From what he knew of the Martial Division, cultivators as a society seemed to attribute great importance to tests and trials. Whether they came in the form of tournament style battling or coming of age trials that involved leaving the sect and returning only after a particular task set out by the test had been accomplished.
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I’m probably being tested, right? He wondered, almost certain for it to be the case.
“I want to be an alchemist, Grand Alchemist Xin Wu,” Xiao Feng declared, his expression resolute and his gaze meeting the Elder’s own.
To Xiao Feng’s surprise, Xin Wu just sighed and shook his head.
“Calloused hands,” He began, his tone sounding a bit exasperated. “Recently recovered from severe injury. Well-defined physique. Firm foundation base that shows signs of regular exertion. Coiled musculature that conceals great strength. You are a Martial Cultivator through and through, so I ask again, why are you here?”
Inwardly, Xiao Feng was shocked by the Grand Alchemist’s thorough inspection. Had he seen through so much only by gazing at him?
He couldn’t show his surprise, though. More importantly though, he could not allow the Grand Alchemist to turn him away.
“Because I want to become an Alchemist,” Xiao Feng repeated again, his gaze earnest and his expression firm.
“You are not the first one, you know?” Xin Wu shook his head disapprovingly. “Martial Cultivators that require resources to either ascend to the next stage or clear debts in their name temporarily turning to Alchemy because they look down upon the disciple and believe they will easily master it,” He explained, revealing what he truly thought about Xiao Feng.
“Grand Alchemist Xin Wu, I really want to—,” Xiao Feng tried to explain himself reflexively, only to come to a grinding halt as Xin Wu raised his open palm before him, signaling for him to stop.
“However,” Xin Wu began. “I will not turn away someone who bled for the frontier,” Xin Wu declared, much to Xiao Feng’s elation.
“Thank you, Grand Alchemist Xin Wu,” Xiao Feng immediately bowed, the gratitude in his tone genuine.
“Rise and don’t thank me yet,” Xin Wu nonchalantly replied, his expression unmoved by the display. “You will be placed in a class of Qi Condensation disciples. We are currently in the middle of a teaching cycle, so it will be your duty to catch up. If you do not own a pill furnace, it will be your responsibility to purchase one at your own cost. If you still want to be here by next week, I will see to issuing you an Alchemist’s robes,” Grand Alchemist Xin Wu promised, a hint of smugness betrayed in his tone.
Xiao Feng did not have to scour his memories for long before the why revealed itself. Grouping a higher stage cultivator with a class of lower stage cultivators, alchemist or not, was a blatant humiliation, especially to a cultivator of the Martial Division, where strength was everything.
“Thank you for your kindness, Grand Alchemist,” Xiao Feng thanked him again.
The surprise coloring Xin Wu’s face was worth showing deference in Xiao Feng’s book. After all, if there was one distinct discipline where he held an advantage over other cultivators, it was his complete and utter lack of pride. As a broke college kid back on Earth, he had been too busy trying to keep up with coursework and after classes, jumping from one side-hustle to the next in an effort to make a dent in his student loans to particularly care who or where the money came from.
Though admittedly he wasn’t too inclined to ever pick up the professional party clown gig again. Having a cake thrown in your face by a snooty rich kid wasn’t fun the first time and he would rather not stick around for a second.
“Very well,” Grand Alchemist Xin Wu muttered under his breath. “Follow me, then.”
Xiao Feng did, down the broad passageway and into the light.