Sheung pushed open the door to the Alchemy Hall and froze.
Inside stretched a long chamber lined on either side by rows of gleaming furnaces and cauldrons, each unique in shape and craftsmanship. Smoke still wafted from one battered cauldron, blackened from a recent explosion.
Twenty students stood at their stations, wearing robes in the colors of their various magical houses. Some cauldrons shimmered with intricate symbols; others hummed with restrained magical power. A girl traced watery runes in the air above a lotus-shaped cauldron. A boy nearby fanned sparks from a vessel shaped like a dragon's skull.
Every head turned as Sheung stepped inside.
A man in teal instructor's robes crossed his arms. "Ah. So nice of you to join us, brush boy," he said with dry sarcasm. "We haven't had a Taoist in here for a very long time."
A few students snickered.
"As you can see," the instructor continued, sweeping his arm toward the array of exotic furnaces, "everyone here has already unlocked their personal cauldrons. Did you bring your token, brush boy?"
"He probably has a frying pan for his furnace," someone jeered.
Sheung's face flushed, but he reached into his satchel and withdrew the jade token Elder Hua had given him that morning.
"This belonged to your grandfather," Elder Hua had said. "He was a top-tier alchemist in his day. Hand it to the instructor when he asks. He might be… surprised."
The instructor gestured to a carved stone circle on the floor. "Quickly. Place it in the summoning circle."
Sheung stepped forward, heart hammering, and placed the jade token in the center of the formation. The instructor murmured a string of spellwords.
Suddenly, blue light flared along the engraved lines of the stone. Students shielded their eyes as the chamber blazed with golden brilliance.
When the glare faded, a magnificent cauldron stood in the summoning circle: a Chinese-style furnace, with a dragon and phoenix forever chasing one another around its sides, scales glimmering red and blue. A large white pearl glowed atop its lid, radiating a gentle silver light before slowly dimming.
A hush fell over the class.
"What… what is this?" the instructor whispered, eyes wide.
Sheung swallowed. Uh-oh. Is he upset?
The instructor's voice trembled as he continued, "No beginner student has summoned a Tier Eight cauldron in over a century. This is only possible for a holder of one of the true ancient bloodlines. This is the legendary Dragonblood Furnace. Countless renowned pills were crafted within this crucible."
He stared at Sheung as though seeing him for the first time.
Zev's voice cut through the stunned silence. "So what? I'm the bloodline holder of the Vault of the Name—way superior to that low-class Dragonblood." His eyes narrowed, looking at Sheung with malice. "Your so-called ancestors were nothing but failures. Everyone knows it was the Vault that purged the Dragonblood traitors from the academy in the first place."
Sheung stiffened, shock and fury twisting in his chest. Part of him wanted to shout back—but the instructor slammed his hand on a workbench so hard that several glass jars rattled.
"Silence!" he thundered. His voice carried an edge of power that made the runes along the walls flicker with energy. "In this hall, we show respect where it's due. And today, we have witnessed a true bloodline reveal itself—a rarity indeed."
Zev clenched his jaw, eyes glittering with hatred, but said no more.
Sheung's face burned under the weight of every stare. He felt both exposed and oddly proud.
The instructor cleared his throat. "Take your cauldron and find a free station, Sheung."
As Sheung carefully lifted the Dragonblood Furnace, he couldn't help glancing at the instructor.
At least I don't have to actually brew anything today… he thought in relief. I'd have no idea what to do.
He moved to an empty spot in the row.
"Now…" said the instructor, turning back to the class. "Where were we?"
"How not to burn the elixir!" volunteered a girl brightly.
"Ah, yes." The instructor sighed. "Let us pray to the heavens for our eyebrows, then…"
By the time the lecture ended, Sheung felt like he'd been thrown into a tornado.
One by one, the students placed their cauldrons back into the summoning circle, where each vanished in a flash of light.
Sheung lingered, running his fingers over the smooth jade of his token. He still felt rattled—but a tiny spark of hope flickered inside him.