After Rockwell Nance left, Forden Wayne burst out laughing. There was no need to guess—they were all laughing at the pile of over a hundred pieces of low-grade Spirit Crystal Ore on Brandon Tu's table. "City Lord Tu, your Spirit Crystal Ore grows more plentiful every year!"
"That's right, City Lord Tu. Maybe you should come over to my manor, or I could share some Spirit Crystal Ore mines with you." Others joined in, echoing the mockery.
Watching their faces, Evan Yang finally understood: if a city lord tried to be an upright, loyal gentleman like Brandon Tu, he'd end up just like him—mocked and humiliated. Without robbing or cheating, where would the profit come from? All that awaited was ridicule from everyone else.
Brandon Tu was already used to this. He took Evan Yang away from the others’ sight, heading to a room that had been prepared in advance. Since each city lord was assigned a room, Evan shared the same one as Brandon.
As soon as they entered, there was a loud 'bang'—the table in front of Evan Yang was smashed to powder by Brandon Tu’s palm.
"Damn it, those hypocrites! They rely on their alchemy skills and their profitable cities!" Brandon Tu vented angrily.
Evan Yang stepped forward to comfort him, "City Lord Tu, those people will get what's coming to them sooner or later."
"Sigh, those guys rely on being city lords, always collecting little fees in their cities or opening Spirit Crystal Ore sites. Otherwise, how would they be any better than me?" Brandon Tu complained.
"City Lord Tu, if White Slope City’s pills are better than theirs, then all the offerings should go seventy percent to White Slope City, right?" Evan Yang ignored their behavior and went straight to the point.
"Of course. That’s why Forden Wayne is so confident he’ll win this time—he’s put up a thousand pieces of mid-grade Spirit Crystal Ore, equal to ten thousand low-grade. The other city lords know they’ll lose, but for face, they each put up a hundred mid-grade. Only I could offer so little. Luckily, City Lord Nance didn’t press me about it." Brandon Tu said, a bit embarrassed.
Evan Yang thought for a moment and said, "So altogether, that's 131,000 low-grade Spirit Crystal Ore? The winner can take at least 90,000 low-grade?"
Brandon Tu nodded, his heart itching at such a huge number. But since it wasn't his, he sighed helplessly, "Looks like Forden Wayne is going to win again this time."
"Not necessarily," Evan Yang replied with a strange smile.
Brandon Tu looked at Evan Yang in surprise, unsure why he would say that.
Evan Yang thought for a moment. At this point, there was no reason to hide anymore, so he made up a story: he claimed he’d been taken in by a reclusive master as a child and learned some alchemy. He could refine Human-Rank pills without a problem, and as long as he was allowed to go on stage tomorrow, he could defeat Forden Wayne and the others.
Brandon Tu was first shocked to hear Evan Yang could do alchemy, then asked in disbelief, "You really can refine Human-Rank pills? How's the quality?"
Asked about quality, Evan Yang admitted, "I haven't actually tested it yet."
"What?" Brandon Tu's eyes nearly popped out. He couldn't believe someone would dare call himself a Human-Rank Alchemist without ever testing their skill.
"City Lord Tu, if you trust me, let me go up. If you’re not sure, then forget it." Evan Yang didn’t want to force things—if you want to teach someone a lesson, you have to get the main person’s approval first.
Brandon Tu sat in a chair, sizing up Evan Yang, lost in thought. Finally he sighed, "If I go up, I’ll lose anyway. Might as well let you try."
Evan Yang smiled and said, "City Lord Tu, I won’t let you down."
For some reason, Brandon Tu felt that this beggar before him was different. Maybe he really could win and restore some dignity.
Evan Yang had no idea what Brandon was thinking. He started studying his alchemy manual. He hadn’t touched it in half a year, and since he’d never practiced, he felt some pressure. But thinking about the old beggar, his spirits lifted—“The old beggar wouldn’t give me an ordinary manual, would he?” he mused.
Soon, a day passed. The next morning, Evan Yang and Brandon Tu returned to the main hall. Everyone had arrived. Several minor figures were looking at Brandon Tu with mocking eyes, while Rockwell Nance turned a blind eye—as they were all his subordinates, after all.
The young man still stood beside Rockwell Nance. In front of each city lord was a furnace—a triangular pill furnace. By Evan Yang’s understanding, these were used for alchemy; the better the furnace, the higher the success rate. These were all ordinary furnaces—good enough if you could refine a supreme Human-Rank pill.
Once everyone was present, Rockwell Nance announced, "You have one hour to refine Human-Rank Qi Spirit Pills. The rules are the same as always: a supreme pill counts as ten high-grade, high-grade counts as ten mid-grade, and mid-grade counts as ten low-grade. Whoever has the highest score wins."
"So that's how it works," Evan Yang finally understood the scoring system.
At Rockwell Nance’s signal, Brynn Bishop smiled and said, "I’ll serve as the notary for all the seniors."
"Alright." Everyone put away their playful attitudes before alchemy, not daring to be careless.
Just as everyone waited for Rockwell Nance to announce the start, Brandon Tu stepped forward and said, "City Lord, I have a request."
"Oh?" Rockwell Nance was already uncomfortable with the hundred pieces of low-grade Spirit Crystal Ore. Hearing Brandon Tu’s request, he grew even more displeased.
The other four city lords also looked curiously at this impoverished city lord.
Brandon Tu explained: this time, he wouldn’t compete himself, but would send the little beggar, Evan Yang. As soon as he finished, waves of laughter broke out.
Forden Wayne even laughed openly, "City Lord Tu, have you lost your mind? You’re sending a beggar to compete?"
"Exactly," the other three echoed.
Rockwell Nance was a bit embarrassed, thinking to himself how his city lords could include such a character.
"City Lord, please permit it," Brandon Tu requested again, snapping Rockwell Nance out of his thoughts. With a dissatisfied look, he said, "Since the rules don’t restrict who can compete, let him go up."
"Thank you, City Lord!" Brandon Tu finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Brynn Bishop looked curiously at Evan Yang. He was all too familiar with this little beggar—yesterday, Evan had openly dismissed him. Brynn was eager to see what Evan could do. Could he really refine pills?
Evan Yang wasn’t intimidated by everyone’s stares. Instead, he was thinking about how to refine pills.
"Alright, begin," Rockwell Nance said to everyone, still displeased.
The four city lords glanced at Evan Yang, then at their pill furnaces and the materials beside them. Each quickly grabbed the herbs, placed them into the furnace, started a fire, and used their own spiritual energy to control the flame.
This was the most basic method of pill refinement. But they noticed Evan Yang wasn’t doing the same. He carefully selected herbs, finally humming in delight and picking three different kinds.
The four city lords smirked disdainfully at Evan’s choice, especially Forden Wayne, who prided himself on his alchemy skills. He mocked, "Little beggar, at the rate you’re picking herbs, who knows when you’ll be ready?"
Evan Yang ignored them and continued. He lit the furnace, but unlike the others, he didn’t use spiritual power to control the heat—he didn’t want to reveal his cultivation. Instead, he took a fan and used it to control the fire by hand. This shocked everyone; they wondered if he was refining pills or just boiling medicine like a village apprentice.
"Little beggar, can you really do this?" Brandon Tu asked, feeling odd.
Evan Yang just smiled, "Don’t worry."
Brandon Tu was curious about Evan’s method but chose to trust him. The others kept mocking, convinced Evan was just a country apprentice boiling medicine.
Time passed. Evan Yang adjusted the flame, adding the three herbs in sequence. With a quarter-hour left, he stopped adding herbs and focused on carefully controlling the fire, letting it nearly die out but not completely.
The others had finished their pill refinement. Forden Wayne was the fastest—he smiled in satisfaction, opened his furnace, and said to Rockwell Nance, "City Lord, I’m done."
"Oh? How many pills did you refine this time, City Lord Wayne?" Rockwell Nance asked, used to the routine.
"I’m not that skilled—just five high-grade, five mid-grade, and three low-grade pills," Forden Wayne replied, humble but proud.
The city lords were all surprised. The other three, in particular, looked embarrassed and quietly withdrew.
Evan Yang, meanwhile, acted as if nothing was happening, focusing entirely on controlling the flame.
"Hm? Why is he still at it?" Forden Wayne waited to claim victory, but Evan Yang ignored him, sticking to his simple method.
The other city lords all looked at Evan strangely, some even muttered, "This little beggar really doesn’t know his place!"
Rockwell Nance grew restless and asked, "City Lord Tu, how much longer will your little beggar take?"
Brandon Tu had no idea how long Evan would take. To buy time, he replied, "City Lord, there’s still a quarter-hour left in the hour."
Rockwell Nance saw Brandon Tu cite the rules and didn’t press further. Everyone had no choice but to wait and see what Evan Yang was up to.
"City Lord Tu, is your little beggar even capable?" Forden Wayne mocked as time ran out.
Brandon Tu ignored him, still watching Evan Yang. Seeing Brandon’s attitude, the others stopped asking, chatting and laughing among themselves, mocking what Evan could possibly refine.
As time ticked down, Brandon Tu grew anxious—if Evan didn’t produce anything, Rockwell Nance would be furious.
Time waits for no one. When the hour was up, Rockwell Nance stood to announce Forden Wayne as the winner—when a voice interrupted: "City Lord, I’ve finished refining."
"Oh?" Everyone’s attention turned to Evan Yang and his furnace.
Amidst ridicule, Evan Yang opened his furnace. Brandon Tu, closest to the furnace, saw its contents and was stunned. Seeing Brandon’s expression, the others grew curious and looked over.
To their surprise, everyone wore the same shocked expression as Brandon Tu. No one could believe a beggar’s crude method could produce a supreme-grade pill.
"Ha! One supreme-grade pill, ten high-grade pills, five mid-grade pills, and none low-grade!" Brandon Tu, who had waited years for this moment, shouted excitedly.
Forden Wayne’s face turned ugly—he thought victory was his, but was defeated by a beggar. The other city lords stared in disbelief.
Aside from them, Rockwell Nance and Brynn Bishop also looked surprised. Finally, Rockwell Nance declared, "This time, City Lord Tu wins. He gets seventy percent of the prize."