Chapter 128 Chapter 129 Hunger
Nighttime, in the alchemy workshop yard.
Ji Ma lounged comfortably in a reclining chair, flipping through the “Potionology” that the thick-haired Xin Ji had given her. Behind her, in the house, the petite Lianxi, dressed in a black servant uniform, was sweeping the room.
In the adjacent shabby stable, the travel horse was eating horse feed, and the horse droppings had already been cleaned up by Lianxi.
Ji Ma stretched her little legs contentedly; it felt so good to have someone waiting on her, reminiscent of a happier life from the past.
She opened the “Potionology” in her hands and saw the chapter on magical operations; the author talked about the principles of using magic:
“2. It must not harm anyone, including yourself.”
“3. Magic requires your effort to yield rewards; the more work, the more gain.”
…
“9. Magic can be used for defense, but must never be used for attack.”
“11. Magic is love. All magic should stem from a loving heart. However, if you use anger and hatred to drive magic, you have crossed into a dangerous world, one that will consume you entirely.”
Ji Ma couldn’t help but laugh:
“Most likely written by a low-level extraordinary being, or even a mundane person, spouting a bunch of nonsensical pretty words. What effort yields reward? There are countless hardworking people out there, most of whom can’t even compare to me, a lazy, lustful ordinary person who happens to have advantages.”
“Love and magic have no connection; it’s purely one-sided.”
Ji Ma shook her head, recalling the deathly midnight in the demon realm when the order to kill each other was given. Most people were overjoyed, grabbing axes to swing at their neighbors’ heads. That night had no love; those who survived became stronger through slaughter.
Ji Ma turned to the next page, preparing to continue flaunting her superiority but found the handwriting unclear.
She lifted her head and saw that the sunset glow had vanished beyond the horizon. The oil lamp hanging on the dead tree lacked sufficient light. Although Ji Ma could see in the dark, reading would strain her eyes. Moreover, she didn’t want to expose her extraordinary abilities too much.
Because Lianxi hadn’t gone through the Dream Inspection, it was hard to tell who she was.
“I should buy a brighter light,” Ji Ma slapped her forehead, “I always forget important things.”
She looked around and her eyes landed on the dead tree. Turning her head, she collected some dead grass, piled it under the dead tree, twisted open the oil lamp, took out the wick, poured oil on it, and tossed the wick in to ignite it.
In a few minutes, the entire dead tree caught fire, the flames roaring. Ji Ma leaned back against the reclining chair, reading next to the burning dead tree. Perhaps because of her demonic nature, she didn’t feel the heat nearby.
“Master! It’s on fire!”
Lianxi was startled, her little face flushed, and she rushed in with a bucket of water.
“Don’t panic,” Ji Ma said, “I set it on fire; don’t you think it’s too dark?”
The dead tree burned brightly, illuminating the entire yard.
Lianxi stood stunned for a moment, said nothing, and returned with the bucket to continue cleaning the room.
“Such a good listener,” Ji Ma casually remarked, flipping through the book again, noticing the section on sanctification herbs.
“When actually making potions, herbs can be enchanted. Enchantment can adjust the vibrations of the magical energy in the herbs, aligning them with magical needs. Thus, it is a critical step in enhancing magical effects…”
Ji Ma continued to scoff: “What do you mean by ‘magical energy vibrations’? What is that? My magical energy never vibrates.”
Ji Ma wasn’t denying the author.
Due to the lack of standardized terminology, many extraordinary beings use different words to describe the same thing, often causing misunderstandings. For example, in writing, “conflict” and “contradiction” refer to the same thing.
After reading this page filled with obscure, hard-to-understand jargon and the author’s neologisms, she felt somewhat fatigued, her mind wandering aimlessly. Inevitably, it drifted back to the time she was abducted by a certain pervert.
Back then, she lived in constant fear, feeling as if she were walking on thin ice every day, because that pervert had given her a big head and made her memorize lines. Terrified, she studied with the intensity of preparing for college entrance exams. She feared that if she relaxed even a little, that pervert would take her life with a single strike.
Later, she discovered that while that pervert was indeed a despicable person, he wasn’t as bad as she had imagined.
It had been a while since she left; she wondered what George was doing. With Jenna and her both gone, he must be in the toilet, grumbling away.
After all, a person like him, aside from the foolishly sweet Jenna and cunning me who dared to make sacrifices for a greater cause, no girl would willingly go to bed with him.
Thinking of beds, Ji Ma recalled that night of dragon slaying, the battle under the old oak tree.
It seemed so serious, yet he was secretly researching bed techniques…
She remembered how it felt when George pinched her toes, and how he would tease the base of her tail with his fingers.
Lost in thought, her legs wrapped in black silk began to itch slightly. She crossed them over each other, rubbing them gently, a faint blush creeping onto her face.
When would she go dream? In dreams, she could try that…
Illuminated by the firelight, Ji Ma suddenly covered her face, blushing and giggling, rolling over in the reclining chair, letting the “Potionology” fall to the ground.
A smooth tail peeked out from beneath her skirt, wrapping around the book and pulling it forcefully back. The book landed on Ji Ma’s long legs, its pages opened to the next step in potion making—harmonization.
“Pour the required dried herbs into a bowl. Sit or stand quietly, gazing at the herbs, feeling the magical energy vibrations released by the leaves, petals, and stems…”
“After gazing, concentrate your power in the palm of your hand, touch the herbs, and remain still for a few seconds.”
Xin Ji, with his thick, black hair, spoke while holding a ceramic bowl full of herbs upside down in his palm, “At this moment, visualize your needs in your mind.”
Nine apprentices gathered around Xin Ji, all focused on him.
This was Ji Ma’s first time attending a class, and in less than an hour, Xin Ji was quite satisfied with her, directly demonstrating the potion-making process according to the original plan.
This was also the apprentices’ first acquaintance with potion-making, each one putting in utmost effort, eyes wide open and ears perked up, fearing they would miss even a tiny detail.
Xin Ji returned the ceramic bowl to its place, adjusted his single-lens glasses, and said:
“Visualization of needs must be singularly focused. I’m an experienced hand, so I can talk while doing this step. After sanctifying and harmonizing, we will be nearing the end. Once again, let me emphasize, we are making a potion for wealth; first, we need a sanctified green candle.”
He picked up the green candle, lit it, and placed it on the altar. Then he grabbed a handful of pure white salt and sprinkled it around the ceramic bowl.
Inside the ceramic bowl were spices like clove, cinnamon, nutmeg, and white cardamom. If it weren’t for the absence of a cooking pot nearby, outsiders would think he was a chef.
“Is it really useful?” asked a beautifully dressed female apprentice beside Ji Ma in a low voice. “Aren’t the things in the bowl just ordinary spices?”
Ji Ma glanced at her out of the corner of her eye; dressed elaborately, she was likely a noble lady. Though these spices were ordinary, they were considered luxury items to common people.
Xin Ji continued with the preparation, taking sage from the side and igniting it on the candle. The sage began to emit blue smoke, and he circled it three times clockwise over the ceramic bowl, allowing the smoke to infuse into the herbs.
Ji Ma could visibly see the golden light within the herbs gradually overflowing, merging and spilling out of the bowl.
“Next, continue to visualize your needs,” Xin Ji instructed, placing the smoking sage into the ceramic bowl.
“Teacher!” the noble female apprentice raised her hand, “What does visualization mean?”
Interrupted, Xin Ji glared at her with displeasure. Traditionally, apprentices asked questions after the master has finished. But he still replied, “It means to imagine the image of money coming into your hands.”
After saying that, Xin Ji turned around, closed his eyes, and clasped his hands together. The smoke wafted over his face, giving him an air of a mystical con artist. He prayed aloud, “Wherever the green light goes, may it be blessed by the commercial goddess of honor: may money swiftly come to Xin Ji. This is what I desire; my wishes shall be fulfilled.”
Ji Ma couldn’t help but recall the strange incantations she wrote down during middle school; the embarrassing memories sent chills down her spine.
Had she not seen the golden light continually overflowing from the bowl and coalescing in the smoke, she would have burst out laughing.
“Remember the incantation; it can be recited in any language.”
“It sounds like a scam,” the noble female apprentice whispered. “Incantations are usually meant to be spoken in obscure languages.”
Ji Ma gently shook her head.
Xin Ji extinguished the candle, scraped the unsolidified wax off it with a knife, and let it drip into the bowl, stating, “It’s done; beginners must wait for the candle to burn out.”
With that, he poured the mixture of spices from the bowl into a small cloth bag and tied it up, the string carrying a rather serious-looking metal pentagram charm.
“It’s ready.”
The apprentices looked a bit disappointed. To them, the potion-making process surely had to involve some extraordinary phenomena that differed from ordinary life, but the end result didn’t seem so magical.
The noble female apprentice raised her hand to ask, “Teacher, does this count as a potion?”
Xin Ji countered, “Who knows what forms potions can take?”
Ji Ma immediately answered, “Sachets, dolls, brews, baths, ointments, essential oils.”
All content from “Potionology.”
Xin Ji nodded, “Little Qiao is quite diligent; indeed, sachets are also potions.”
The noble female apprentice gave Ji Ma a disdainful glance, her eyes turning back to Xin Ji as she pretended to mutter, “Only essential oils, brews, and ointments are legitimate practices.”
Ji Ma understood that there were many schools and disagreements within alchemy. She also knew the noble female apprentice expressed her desires, intentionally speaking for herself.
But she ignored it and continued to focus on the sachet in Xin Ji’s hands. She saw that the entire sachet was emitting a faint golden light.
Xin Ji raised the sachet, stating, “This is a wealth attraction sachet; carrying it will enhance your fortune. I’ve upgraded it to work in a short time; who wants to try?”
Ji Ma didn’t raise her hand; she was always very cautious about such magical items. Aside from her, the noble female apprentice, and the rest of the apprentices all raised their hands high.
“Very good, you come.”
Xin Ji handed the sachet to a boy. He had freckles and looked to be only fifteen years old. His clothes were plain, patched here and there.
He excitedly tied the sachet around his waist, looking up to say, “Teacher, it’s on!”
Ji Ma noticed a faint golden mist had appeared above his head, drifting into the distance. She couldn’t help but say, “It really works.”
“How do you know?” the noble female apprentice suddenly asked.
Ji Ma didn’t turn her head, saying, “Guess.”
Xin Ji said, “You can take a walk around the street; everyone can go see the effect, but stay far away.”
The freckled boy eagerly walked out the door, followed by Ji Ma and the other seven apprentices.
The apprentices were buzzing, bursting with interest.
“How do we get money? Will gold coins fall from the sky?”
“Does the sachet grow gold by itself?”
Only the noble female apprentice looked disdainful, crossing her arms as if speaking another word with the apprentices would diminish her stature.
As soon as the freckled boy stepped outside the store, the apprentices widened their eyes, searching for traces of money. The street was clean, not even a stone could be found; it seemed the idea of collecting money from the ground was impossible.
After ten minutes, while everyone was debating how gold coins would come to the freckled boy,
a cart passed by, and a horse’s hoof kicked something that hit the boy on the head. He covered his head and shouted. That thing fell to the ground, and to everyone’s surprise, it was a money pouch. The boy quickly let go of his head and picked up the pouch, taking out a gold coin, exclaiming, “It’s a gold coin!”
