Feng Lao returned to his cauldron, gazing down at the smoldering remnants of destroyed pills. But instead of frustration or disappointment, a sly smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"My dear cousin, enjoy your fleeting years of heirship while you can," Feng Lao murmured to himself, a low chuckle rising from his chest. "Because I’ve found my golden goose. And with his help, I’ll strip you of everything and take back what’s rightfully mine. Hahaha! There's so many things to do!"

His laughter echoed throughout the chamber, filled with dark determination.

Meanwhile, Zhao Qian guided Chen Long through the pavilion’s expansive grounds, her eyes occasionally glancing at him with a hint of admiration. The late afternoon sun bathed the stone pathways in a soft glow, casting long shadows across the courtyards.

"You truly are something special, aren’t you?" Zhao Qian said with a smile, breaking the silence. "In just one day, you’ve managed to turn the entire pavilion upside down. Everyone is gossiping about you—the young man who made his first pill on his sixth try and was immediately accepted as the Pavilion Master's personal disciple. It’s incredible, really."

Chen Long kept his face humble, offering a modest smile in return. But inside, his mind was already whirring with schemes. 'The faster I rise within this pavilion, the sooner I can dominate both the worlds of alchemy and martial arts.'

"Senior Zhao, thank you for all your help today. I wouldn’t have made it this far without your guidance," Chen Long said, his voice smooth and sincere, knowing full well how much flattery could grease the wheels of progress.

Zhao Qian’s smile widened. "Please, call me junior sister Qian, young master."

Chen Long raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Young master? Isn’t that a title reserved for the master’s children? Why do you call me that?"

Zhao Qian chuckled softly. "Ah, you don’t know, do you? Master has no children. In fact, many alchemists don’t—too absorbed in their craft to start a family. That’s why they pass everything down to their disciples."

Chen Long nodded thoughtfully, but inwardly, a pleased smile crept across his mind. ‘This makes things even smoother for my plans to progress...’ he mused.

As they continued walking, they passed through the bustling courtyards of the Celestial Pill Pavilion. Young and old disciples alike were engrossed in their tasks—some grinding herbs with practiced hands, while others focused intently on controlling the flames beneath their cauldrons. The air was thick with the scent of medicinal herbs, and the crackle of flames echoed through the open spaces.

It was an impressive scene, yet Chen Long barely spared it a glance. 'This... is nothing compared to what I will achieve,' he thought, his ambitions stretching far beyond the sight before him.

Eventually, Zhao Qian led him to a small but comfortable house nestled within the disciple housing area. The humble building was modest but far better than the crumbling shack Chen Long and his family had been living in.

"This will be your new residence," Zhao Qian explained, gesturing to the simple home. "It may not be grand, but it’s a world away from a shack. Your family can move in here, and you’ll have everything you need to focus on your training."

Chen Long inspected the house, his eyes scanning its sturdy walls and neat interior. "It’s perfect, junior sister Qian. Thank you," he said, his voice carrying genuine gratitude.

"It was my pleasure, young master," Zhao Qian replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "Once you’ve settled in, I’ll return tomorrow to begin your alchemy training."

Chen Long bowed slightly. "Thank you again, junior sister Qian. I truly appreciate all you’ve done for me."

Zhao Qian smiled warmly, then turned and left, her figure disappearing into the evening shadows.

As soon as she was gone, Chen Long’s expression hardened. He stepped inside the house, the door creaking shut behind him. His mind raced with thoughts of the future, already planning how to bring his mother and sister here. His thoughts lingered on his frail, sickly mother, Xia Yun, and his sister, Chen Mei. ‘This will change everything,’ he thought. ‘No more living on the edge of survival. They’ll finally have peace... at least for a little while.’

Chen Long clenched his fists. His goals were within reach, and this was just the beginning.

Chen Long spent the rest of the day preparing for his family's arrival, his mind constantly churning with schemes. He carefully evaluated the surroundings, thinking not just of the present, but of the future — the pavilion, the power struggles, and how he would rise through it all. Every step needed to be calculated, every move precise.

'Alchemy is just a stepping stone,' he thought to himself, his expression unreadable. 'The real power lies in mastering both martial arts and alchemy. The pavilion master thinks I'll be his weapon in reclaiming the Celestial Pill Pavilion, but by the time that happens, I'll be far too powerful for anyone to control.'

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The quiet of his new residence felt oddly comforting, but it also gave him time to think. A faint smirk crept onto his lips. The path to domination was already beginning to take shape, and no one—not the pavilion master, nor the powerful figures within—would stand in his way.

As he inspected the room, his eyes landed on a cauldron set in the corner. A wooden cupboard stood next to it, stocked with medicinal herbs and various alchemical materials—worms, bugs, shells, rocks, barks, and more. Each item was precisely labeled and organized, suggesting that the room had been prepared for new recruits.

"Hmm... everything is well-maintained," Chen Long mused, running his hand over the items. "I suppose this is where new disciples would start their training. Well, before I dive into this, I should bring Mom and Mei here."

Satisfied, Chen Long left the room and made his way out of the pavilion, intending to return with his family. As he walked through the compound, he could feel the stares and hear the whispered gossip of the disciples and staff around him. People murmured about his arrival, questioning who he was and what he was doing here.

Once he passed through the pavilion gates, he spotted the booth attendant—the same one who had sneered at him during his first visit. The man’s face twisted into a familiar sneer upon seeing Chen Long.

“Hmph! So, you came here to become an alchemist, and now you’re just a sweeper,” the booth attendant taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. “Hahaha, got what you deserved, lowlife trash!”

Chen Long’s eyes narrowed. 'This fool again. I think I need put him in his place for the last time.'

The anger in Chen Long flared. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and shouted, “What did you just call me?”

The booth attendant crossed his arms smugly, not expecting retaliation. “Huh?! Looking for a fight, are we? Well, I called you low-life trash. If you didn’t hear clearly, let me rephrase it for you: lowww-lifff—”

Before he could finish his insult, Chen Long’s hand shot out, wrapping around the attendant’s throat with a vice-like grip. The man’s words died in his throat as he struggled to breathe.

“Guards! Help!” the booth attendant gasped, didn't thought that he would really attack him, panic rising in his eyes. Within moments, two guards rushed over to the scene.

One of the guards barked, “Child, it's an offense to attack a pavilion staff member, especially for someone of low standing like yourself. But given your relationship with Senior Alchemist Qian, we won’t take further action this time.”

Chen Long released the man, who stumbled back, coughing and rubbing his throat. Confused, Chen Long turned to the guards. “What are you even talking about? Senior Alchemist Qian? And how did I become a sweeper?”

The two guards exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable. “No need to concern yourself with that,” one of them said curtly before they escorted the booth attendant away.

Chen Long stood there, bewildered by the exchange. 'What’s going on? Since when did I become a sweeper? And what does Senior Alchemist Qian have to do with this?'

As he watched them walk away, a deep unease settled in his chest. Something was off, and he needed answers.

"There's definitely something happening, but the question is-what exactly?" Chen Long thought as he pieced everything together. "First, I met Zhao Qian, but she doesn't have the power to orchestrate something like this. Then, I came for the Alchemy test and performed not just perfectly but otherworldly. After that, I was sought out by Feng Lao, who wants to use me as a weapon to take his revenge. So, he has nothing to do with this-unless he's protecting me. I need to meet with Zhao Qian to get all the details!"

Chen Long hurried inside the pavilion, his steps echoing through the hallways. His search for Zhao Qian began in the middle area where grade 1 to grade 3 alchemists practiced. The air smelled of burning herbs and the distinct bitter aroma of medicinal concoctions.

Despite his efforts, Zhao Qian was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, he sprinted toward the living quarters, only to be stopped by a young man wearing the robes of the Celestial Pill Pavilion.

"Oh! Look who it is! The dumb sixth-attempt cheater. If you really wanted to cheat, you should've waited a few weeks, at least. Then it might've seemed believable. But no-you're too dumb for that," the man sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Chen Long's eyes narrowed as he sized the man up. Without breaking eye contact, he said coldly, "I'm not in the mood to talk to dog shit like you. Now, fuck off."

As he finished his sentence, Chen Long shoved the man aside-intentionally hard enough for him to stumble and fall.

Although Chen Long hadn't yet practiced martial arts, his Karmaic Progenitor Body had already granted him far greater strength than the average person. The man crashed to the ground, his face flushing with embarrassment as the crowd around them burst into laughter.

"He got pushed over by a peasant! Hahaha!" some of them jeered.

The man's face contorted in rage, and he snarled, "Do you even know who I am? I'll kill you!"

Without turning his head, Chen Long replied calmly, "I don't care who you are. If you want to kill me, then try."

Before the man could react, Chen Long vanished into the crowd, his heart beating steadily as he ignored the commotion behind him.

"Where could Zhao Qian be? I'll start by checking my house."

Chen Long ran towards his new home, his mind racing with unanswered questions. As he neared the house, he spotted a figure standing outside. Squinting through the late afternoon light, he could just make out the familiar silhouette of Zhao Qian.

As he approached, Zhao Qian noticed him and walked over quickly. "Where have you been?" she asked, her brows furrowed in concern.

Chen Long didn't bother with pleasantries. "Never mind that. What's happening? Why is everyone calling me a sweeper?"

Zhao Qian's face softened with understanding, and she sighed. "So, you've found out..."

She explained the situation in detail. It was as Chen Long had suspected: the decision to label him a sweeper was made to protect him from the dangers that came with his talent. Feng Lao feared that his cousin, a powerful figure in the pavilion, would go to any lengths to eliminate Chen Long if he discovered his extraordinary abilities.

Chen Long's expression remained unreadable as he listened, though internally, he was calculating his next move. So, Feng Lao wants to protect me by making me appear insignificant. Clever, but not enough.

"Junior Sister, take me to see Master," Chen Long said, his tone sharp and decisive.

Zhao Qian nodded without hesitation, leading him to Feng Lao's quarters. When they arrived, they found Feng Lao deep in meditation. As their presence disturbed the air, Feng Lao opened his eyes, his calm expression betraying a slight sigh.

"I take it Zhao Qian has explained everything to you," Feng Lao began, his voice measured. "But allow me to clarify it again. You are my true disciple, Chen Long. If word of your talent reaches my cousin, he'll stop at nothing to kill you. He won't risk letting me reclaim the throne. That's why I hid your identity and claimed that you cheated on the Alchemy test, making you a sweeper-at least, on the surface."

Chen Long cupped his hands in respect, but his eyes gleamed with hidden intent. "I understand Master's intentions, but I came here to earn respect, honor, and wealth so that I can grow strong. Instead, I've been branded as a sweeper, stripped of my pride. I can't live like this. I would rather destroy my path to alchemy than lose my dignity." His words were carefully crafted, pressing Feng Lao for even more benefits.

"Wait!" Feng Lao raised his hand, alarmed. "Don't do anything rash. I know I acted hastily, but destroying your path to alchemy would be a mistake. I already had a plan prepared in case you felt this way."

Feng Lao turned to Zhao Qian, who nodded at him as if understanding his unspoken command.

"From now on," Feng Lao continued, "you will reside at Zhao Qian's mansion and practice alchemy there. Publicly, you'll still be considered a sweeper, but it will be said that because of your close relationship with Zhao Qian, you were reassigned to her mansion to serve her directly. This way, no one will suspect your true purpose, and your family can live comfortably with you."

Chen Long remained silent for a moment, pretending to consider the offer, though inside, he was satisfied with the outcome. After a brief pause, he bowed deeply to Feng Lao. "Thank you, Master. I will do as you say."

Zhao Qian stepped forward. "I'll escort him to my mansion and bring his family along."

Feng Lao nodded, and with that, Chen Long and Zhao Qian took their leave, each of them playing their own part in the unfolding game.