Chapter 50: The Making of Elixirs
“Duang! Duang! Duang!”
Ji Ma held a kitchen knife, chopping the wrinkled nose of the dream-eater on the cutting board into piece after piece.
The charcoal in the stove hadn’t fully turned red yet, emitting wisps of blue smoke. Ji Ma coughed, turned her head away to avoid looking at the dream grass, and carefully picked up the dream grass from the box, folding it three times and tying it securely with a string.
Timing is crucial when brewing elixirs, but there’s no mechanical clock in this alchemy workshop. She picked up an hourglass and turned it upside down on the table, covering her heart with one hand, silently counting in her head, eyes fixed on the hourglass. It took about a minute for the sand to flow through.
But how much margin for error? Who knows?
“It feels like cooking, but in this backward world, the level is just so low.”
Ji Ma muttered to herself, using a fire tong to poke at the charcoal. While waiting for the charcoal to turn red, she twisted open a bottle, slowly pouring the alcoholic dwarf spirits that exuded a strong smell of alcohol into a ceramic bowl.
The recipe didn’t specify how much alcohol to pour; she had to rely on her instincts. She placed the pitch-black ceramic bowl over the charcoal, gradually heating it until it boiled.
Ji Ma took the chopped dream-eater noses and sprinkled them into the mixture. Those dry, tough pieces of meat tumbled in the strong spirits.
Ji Ma turned the hourglass again; the recipe finally provided a relatively precise time—boil for about fifteen minutes until the dream-eater noses became soft.
How annoying; I can’t tell how much error this entails.
Staring at the meat pieces rolling in the strong alcohol, Ji Ma felt uncertain inside.
An elixir is essentially about extracting extraordinary power from materials and creating medicine to be ingested for acquiring new supernatural abilities. But this elixir’s refining process seemed too crude, with too much margin for error.
First, no one knows how much extraordinary power is in the dream-eater noses, and each one is different; the recipe didn’t specify how many should be used, just like with the dream grass. Second, the time and temperature specified in the recipe are imprecise, and the alcohol content may vary, affecting the boiling point. Ji Ma wasn’t sure; most of her middle school knowledge was forgotten.
Even if she invented a thermometer or something, the recipe didn’t provide detailed units for material weights, temperatures, etc.
So theoretically, each flask of elixir could be different, combined with individual differences in physiology, which made the risk of elixir upgrades even greater.
Although Ji Ma was prepared for the upgrade, she couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t be dangerous to drink the elixir.
To avoid such dangers, a corresponding magical ritual would usually be arranged, or a trusted companion would be called to stand guard nearby.
In her past life, she always made thorough preparations for any elixir upgrades. Sometimes nothing went wrong, and sometimes it was a close call.
But now, she lacked the necessary conditions.
As the fifteenth hourglass turned, the contents of the ceramic bowl had softened; the spirits had turned a deep black. Ji Ma carefully grabbed the handle and moved the bowl away from the charcoal.
The dark room was filled with the smell of alcohol.
She took another ceramic bowl, poured the remaining spirits into it, and boiled it, placing the whole dream grass inside. The recipe stated it should be boiled vigorously, so Ji Ma stood on her tiptoes, grabbed the lever dangling in midair, and pulled it down, making the leather bellows blow a gust of wind, flaring the charcoal.
The spirits in the ceramic bowl boiled, the dream grass softened, and a white mist rose. Ji Ma took a whiff; it had a strong cilantro aroma, making her frown instantly.
After ten hourglasses’ time, she moved the bowl aside and took the bowl boiling the dream-eater noses—filled with an inky liquid—raising it and pouring it into the steaming bowl with dream grass.
Immediately, the black liquid mixed with the contents, causing an inexplicable reaction. The water suddenly boiled, bubbles started to surge, and colorful bubbles rose, reflecting Ji Ma’s face.
In the dream-like bubbles, Ji Ma saw the bustling streets of Earth, the high building she jumped from, and the enticing thighs of the maids.
What was that?
She suddenly remembered; those were dreams she had a while ago.
Snapping back to reality, she placed her hand flat on the bubbling ceramic bowl. The clusters of bubbles burst as she concentrated on the colorful bubbles in the bowl, feeling her “energy” flow through her forearm, vanish in her palm, and transmit into the colorful bubbles.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
All the bubbles burst at once, and the mixture in the ceramic bowl settled down.
The liquid turned a purple-black color, with pieces of meat floating on the surface. Ji Ma picked the meat out and found it was soft, like bread soaked in water, while the dream grass had turned yellow and no longer had a soporific effect.
Only a shallow layer of purple-black liquid remained in the ceramic bowl.
She used a funnel to pour the concocted elixir into a glass test tube, filling it to just about four-fifths full. She capped it with a wooden stopper and let it cool naturally.
Ji Ma then mixed ginger oil with fresh chili peppers and poured it into a small bottle. This was an auxiliary potion, said to be for escaping dreams.
Ji Ma examined the prepared ginger oil potion carefully. She confirmed it contained no extraordinary powers; it was merely ginger oil simmered with chili. The usage was to drink it or apply it between the lips and nose.
“Chemical refreshment?” Ji Ma kept pouring the ginger oil potion into the small bottle, “Wouldn’t it be better to just have someone slap me? The system should be reliable, right?”
She suddenly recalled that the system merely reads the memories of the succubus inheritance. In those memories, general knowledge was often very outdated and seldom updated. She had seen many black dragons influenced by inherited memories, who liked eating green-skinned foods, believing that green meat was healthy.
However, researchers found that this was due to an ancient dragon in their ancestry who was superstitious about green food.
Is it really reliable?
Ji Ma looked at the nightmare potion on the test tube rack. It looked like a potassium permanganate solution, with its purple-black base gradually lightening toward the bottle’s mouth. At the top of the potion, the purple liquid sparkled like a nebula.
Looking closer, those were countless tiny colorful bubbles.
Drink it like this? Or should she just settle things directly with George?
The thought startled her.
But roughly analyzed, it seemed to be her best choice. George wouldn’t stab her in the back; he wouldn’t endanger her life. If she showed any signs of losing control, she could just have him snap her out of it. What’s more, he also had healing abilities.
As for losing control mentally, she was unafraid. That little body contained the soul of a demon lord, quite resilient.
“You can always trust me.” Ji Ma recalled what George had said to her.
But, what after she said that?
Right. George is a paladin, a good person who wouldn’t betray anyone; he’s a good person defined by moral standards.
But he isn’t just good to himself; he’s good to everyone.
To George, she was merely a thing to prove his beliefs.
The reason he chose to “redeem” her was that she was under his control. He could ensure she couldn’t harm others. Once her power increased, the slave contract would become ineffective, and he wouldn’t be able to ensure control over her.
He wouldn’t allow an evil and powerful succubus to be beyond his grasp. He would surely take forceful measures to prevent her from posing a threat to others.
Ji Ma absolutely believed this.
After revealing her truth, she probably had only two options.
Either she truly becomes a good person.
Or he tosses her into the sanctuary for a lifetime of confinement.
And both of these options were unacceptable to Ji Ma.
Or she could make a deal with him? The demon lord’s treasury has clues about the “crown” fragments. Other demon lords were certainly drooling over it.
Ji Ma shook her head. Someone like George would never accept a deal. Just as she would never walk the path of righteousness.
Ji Ma stared at the tiny, star-like bubbles at the top of the nightmare potion.
It was power, not to become stronger, not for revenge, not for a harem—what’s the meaning of living?
Besides, her soul as a demon lord was powerful. A mere potion to promote from black iron to bronze should have side effects she could endure; it should be fine. The most important thing was to ensure George remained unaware of her secret.
After making up her mind, Ji Ma opened her backpack and took out the cotton she had prepared in advance, stuffing it in the box. Carefully, she placed the nightmare potion and ginger oil potion in the cotton box, then gingerly placed the box back in her bag before starting to clean the scene.
She threw the leftover potion residue into the fire to burn, snuffed out the flames, and only then did she push the door and leave.
Several women had entered the shop; they wore cloaks to hide their figures. They were quite pretty, with brightly painted red lips.
One red-haired, slightly curly older sister spoke at the counter: “Baldy, good brother, I brought my sisters to play.”
She looked somewhat familiar; Ji Ma recalled. She was the red-haired woman who had extorted the bald alchemist that day.
As soon as the red-haired woman finished speaking, her three sisters behind her giggled and pulled aside their cloaks, revealing the revealing clothing underneath. The clothing was tight, exposing their long white legs and, well, their chests could not be described. Such flirtatiousness made it clear they were from the leading industry in Shalin City.
“Miss, please behave yourself.” The bald alchemist replied calmly.
“Hee hee hee.” The women erupted into laughter.
“Good brother~.”
Using a chair for support, the red-haired woman stepped on the table, flipping open her cloak to reveal a wonderful view. She wore black stockings, with no pants or skirt, just long boots on her thighs, exposing a patch of snow-white thigh right in front of the bald shop owner.
“We just want to have some fun with you; let’s all be happy. You just need to help your sisters solve a little problem.”
The bald alchemist’s expression remained unchanged as he said, “No, I have stopped selling potions.”
“What?”
The women laughed even louder.
“He doesn’t like you.”
“How pitiful, how pitiful.”
One black-haired woman stepped forward, removed her cloak, and cast a lingering glance at the bald shop owner, saying, “Don’t you miss the encouragement of sisters? The last time you were really into it.”
Ji Ma felt an impulse to jump up and shout, “Sisters, let’s go play!”
“Boring.” The bald alchemist remained indifferent.
“I have made up my mind. I’ve wasted too much valuable time in meaningless intercourse activities and veered off track, concocting a bunch of filthy useless aphrodisiac. I want to return to my roots and become a great alchemist.”
The women exchanged glances, realizing this guy seemed to be serious. He showed no sign of emotional fluctuation; they had never seen such a situation before.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not selling potions anymore.” The bald alchemist said, “I’ve already flushed the divine potion down the toilet.”
“What! Are you crazy?”
The women instantly turned pale.
Ji Ma slipped out of the store unnoticed, while voices of women cursing rang behind her, followed by the bald alchemist’s determined voice:
“I have made up my mind! If you keep making noise, I’ll call the guards.”
Having helped a bald man regain his original intention, Ji Ma felt the red scarf around her neck became even more vibrant. She turned around and closed the store door, smiling as she left.
