I never expected that even I, an old man, could misjudge someone. Truly, the younger generation is formidable.

After finishing his speech,

Yun Yao’s mouth fell open as she stared blankly at Su Ji, then at her own elder. Her mind was completely empty.

Though she knew nothing about alchemy, she could still tell that the terms Su Ji had just used—terms that sounded extremely profound—were far beyond ordinary knowledge.

And Elder Yao’s reaction only confirmed Su Ji’s judgment.

He did not explode in anger, nor did he argue.

He simply stared fixedly at the pill in Su Ji’s hand, sinking into deep thought.

A moment later.

Without anyone noticing, a fine layer of cold sweat had broken out on his forehead.

His lips trembled, as if he wanted to say something, but it was as though something had lodged in his throat, blocking every word.

Because what Su Ji had said…

Was word for word correct!

When he carefully recalled the moment of the seventy-second ingredient’s flame shift…

“What’s all this noise? Trying to get yourselves killed?!”

“I was at a critical juncture in my refinement—if the furnace had exploded, you couldn’t pay for it even if you sold yourselves!”

It had been just a single instant of distraction, and that instant happened to be the exact moment of the flame shift.

He had indeed, for fear of missing the optimal timing, been slightly too hasty.

But he had believed that tiny flaw was negligible and wouldn’t affect the finished pill.

Yet now…

“Impossible… impossible…”

Elder Yao snatched the pill from Su Ji’s hand.

He held it before his eyes and pried it open.

His spiritual sense surged into it madly, inspecting it over and over again.

Finally.

Deep within the pill’s core, he found a wisp of yin-cold energy—so faint that it would have been impossible to detect unless one was specifically searching for it.

Boom!

Elder Yao felt as though something had exploded inside his head.

In that moment, all his pride and confidence as a master of the alchemic dao shattered into pieces.

“Pfft—”

A mouthful of heart’s blood suddenly burst from Elder Yao’s lips.

This formula was something he had stumbled upon in a fragmentary scroll from an ancient ruin. Incomplete and damaged, had spent over a hundred years of painstaking effort to supplement it, combing through every tome in the sect’s library, even risking several furnace explosions.

It was the peak of his life’s achievements in the alchemic arts!

The path he had exhausted his entire life’s work to grope his way toward!

And now, a junior had pointed out its flaw in a single sentence.

Rushing just that one instant…

Yes!

Exactly that instant!

“Elder!”

Yun Yao cried out in alarm, quickly moving to support him.

But Elder Yao seemed oblivious. He pushed her away, his eyes fixed stubbornly on Su Ji—no longer filled with anger, only with a kind of… nearly manic fervor.

Su Ji watched the old man’s disheveled, despairing state and sighed inwardly.

Why did it have to come to this?

You forced me into showing off.

He released Yun Yao’s hand, sat back down in his wheelchair, and put on a harmless, weak smile.

“All this… I just read it in some tattered old book.”

“Pure luck. Nothing to take seriously. Truly.”

He couldn’t have sounded more humble.

But to Elder Yao’s ears, it was something else entirely.

“No… something’s not right!”

Elder Yao, as if he had spotted a crucial clue, suddenly rushed up to Su Ji and gripped the armrests of the wheelchair.

“You just said… even taking this pill won’t cure it.”

“You… do you have a solution?!”

“You must have a solution, right?!”

He shook the wheelchair wildly like a madman, the force so great that Su Ji felt as if he were about to fall apart.

“Elder! Calm down!”

Yun Yao tried to pull Elder Yao away.

But the elder was beyond listening to reason now.

All his hope was pinned on the mysterious man before him.

“Stop! Stop! I said stop.”

Su Ji called out weakly, out of breath.

“Teach me!”

Elder Yao ignored everything.

He no longer cared about dignity or face!

“If you’re willing to teach me, I’ll give you anything you want!”

“Spirit stones? Artifacts? Techniques? Whatever I have, you can take your pick!”

“Please… teach me…”

Su Ji had already guessed.

This old man was so obsessed with refining the [Return-to-Void Pill] that it almost certainly wasn’t for himself.

For a Nascent Soul-stage alchemy master to lose his composure like this, there had to be someone—or something—more important to him than his own life.

Teach him?

That didn’t seem like a bad idea.

In fact, he could use this as an excuse to openly take over the old man’s alchemy chamber and repair his own golden core.

And it would also repay the favor he owed Yun Yao.

Su Ji’s mind was racing with calculations, but on his face, he wore a reluctant expression.

“Teaching you… isn’t out of the question.”

Su Ji spoke slowly, deliberately dragging out his words. “I have two conditions.”

“Not just two!” Elder Yao blurted without thinking. “Even two hundred, I’d agree!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized what he’d said. His old face turned red, but he stiffened his neck, putting on a reckless attitude: “Two hundred is a bit much… how about twenty?”

“As long as you can help me refine a true [Return-to-Void Pill]!”

“First, I’ll need to use your alchemy cave for a while.”

“During that time, no one is allowed near it or to spy on me without my permission.”

This condition was reasonable enough. Some alchemy techniques really couldn’t be seen by outsiders.

Elder Yao nodded repeatedly: “No problem! I’ll even give it to you! I’ll stand guard myself—anyone who dares come close, I’ll break their legs!”

“Second…”

A playful smile appeared on Su Ji’s face.

“You, right now, facing me, with a look of shame, say…”

“‘I never expected that even I could be so wrong. Truly, the younger generation is formidable.’”

Elder Yao: ???