Chapter Twelve: The Alchemy Shop

The sun rose as usual, gently illuminating the mushroom rooftop. Where the sunlight touched, a crack appeared in the mushroom, letting the morning light spill onto the desk below. Qi Xiao sat at the desk, carefully pondering the wording of his refusals, occasionally jotting down a few lines with a quill.

After he had replied to all the invitations one by one, Qi Xiao finally breathed a sigh of relief, stood up, and prepared to deliver them to the carrier pigeon bureau.

The moment he opened the door, he was greeted by an unexpected figure standing outside. Puzzled, he softly called, “Feng?”

Feng looked up at Qi Xiao, flashing a bright smile with a hint of helplessness. “Whenever I knock, the mushroom turns soft and spongy, and no sound gets through. So I had to wait for you to come out or finish your tasks.”

The mushroom beside them, upon hearing this, proudly lifted its cap, circling Qi Xiao twice, seemingly seeking praise.

Qi Xiao couldn’t help but feel resigned; the intelligence of these mushrooms was comparable to that of house cats in his previous life—capable of understanding only basic commands. With a sigh, he said,

“You did wonderfully. Just remember, next time someone knocks, even if I'm busy, remind me, alright? Good mushroom.”

He patted the upturned cap, feeling a wave of joy from the mushroom. Turning to Feng, he apologized, “Sorry to keep you waiting. Next time, call out to me from the window. Is there something you need?”

Feng glanced at the stack of envelopes Qi Xiao was carrying, gestured politely, and said, “You’re probably heading to the carrier pigeon bureau. Let’s talk as we walk.”

On the way, after hearing Feng’s request, Qi Xiao frowned, troubled. “You mean you want me to develop a new potion to treat the Blood Plague virus?”

Feng knew his request was difficult, but for his brother’s sake, he pressed on. “Yes, I’m sorry, but you're the only one I know who might be able to create such a potion.”

Qi Xiao bit his finger, conceding, “Let me start my cultivation first. I’ll try, but don’t get your hopes up too high. If possible, find a proper alchemist trained in potion-making to help. My expertise lies more in enchantment.”

Feng bowed deeply, then smiled wryly. “Thank you. When I grow stronger, I’ll seek a potion specialist for my brother. But right now, I’m not even an apprentice. Even if I sought help, no one would spare me a glance.”

As they walked, Qi Xiao and Feng discussed the symptoms of Blood Plague infection until they arrived at the carrier pigeon bureau.

Qi Xiao paid three magic crystals at the front desk and waited briefly. Soon, several pure white carrier pigeons flew in, taking the envelopes from his hands.

He attempted to pet a nearby pigeon, but was pecked on the hand and had to abandon the idea, withdrawing his hand in embarrassment. To cover the awkward moment, he casually asked Feng, “Which mentor did you choose?”

Feng, somewhat absent-minded, replied, “I’ll be studying with Teacher Vivian. He hasn’t joined any faction and manages the largest grove in the secret cellar by himself. What about you?”

“I’m planning to go to Lake Island and study under Teacher Midiel.”

Hearing the name Midiel, Feng finally snapped back to attention, admiringly, “Is it the famed ‘Shadow of the World,’ Master Midiel? He even sent you an invitation? That’s truly enviable.”

Qi Xiao encouraged him, “These are merely external forces; the strength of the mentor doesn’t really concern us. There’s nothing to envy. To become a sorcerer, you must rely on yourself.”

Feng laughed in agreement, “I’m hoping to grow quickly and repay your kindness. You, on the other hand, should take your time and hone your alchemical foundation. Let’s work hard together.”

After bidding Feng farewell, Qi Xiao returned to the mushroom house. Facing the tightly shut door, he bent down and scratched the mushroom’s extended stalk in resignation.

These days, the mushroom demanded to be petted for two minutes each time he came home before it was satisfied—growing more like a dog.

Back at the desk, he took out paper and pen, sketching diagrams while pondering the Blood Plague virus afflicting Feng’s brother.

Currently, he had no clue how to resolve such a virus; only after further research could he propose a preliminary solution.

For now, his task was to report to his mentor on Lake Island the next day, then rent a storefront in town and transform it into an alchemy shop.

This way, he could improve his alchemical skills, earn system rewards, and pick up some magic crystals—a triple benefit.

Earlier, while strolling through town, Qi Xiao had already set his sights on a few storefronts, though their owners might not be willing to sell.

He drafted a rough plan for future sales, divided into fixed prices and auctions.

Fixed sales would cover high-demand, mass-produced alchemical potions and standardized enchanted weapons to secure steady customer flow.

The focus, however, would be on auctions. Since he could only receive system rewards the first time he sold each type of alchemical product, he planned to auction off different items each time—ranging from one to ten, depending on his free time. Such high-end alchemical products would more easily attract discerning customers.

At his current level, crafting these items wasn’t difficult, but as he advanced, it would be harder to maintain this frequency. Still, as his products improved, the rewards would grow as well.

Finally, he could take custom alchemy orders as needed.

After making a simple plan, Qi Xiao decided to visit nearby alchemy shops to observe market prices.

He entered the largest potion shop in the market, where a staff member dressed in white approached, smiling, “Hello, what kind of potion are you looking for?”

Qi Xiao sensed a faint magical aura from the man, thinking it fitting that even the staff at the largest shop were sorcerer apprentices.

He maintained a calm expression and asked, “How much for vitality and blood-restoration potions?”

The staff promptly produced two bottles, displaying their quality.

“The blood-restoration potion is five magic crystals per bottle. The vitality potion uses pricier ingredients, so it’s seven magic crystals per bottle. All our potions are crafted by professional alchemy apprentices; you needn’t worry about their efficacy.”

Qi Xiao bought a bottle of each, inquired about prices for other common potions and salves, gained a general sense of the market, tipped the attendant five magic crystals, and left.

He visited several other potion shops as well, finding their prices more or less similar—at most a couple of magic crystals’ difference for common potions.

Weapon shops, however, varied greatly; each sold different weapons.

Alchemy weapons for novice sorcerer apprentices seldom cost more than single-digit magic crystals—sometimes even below cost. But weapons for intermediate apprentices ranged from fifty to a hundred magic crystals.

Qi Xiao found this rather baffling; the gap between novice and intermediate apprentices didn’t seem tenfold.

After questioning a weapon shop owner, he learned the reason: so many people wanted to learn alchemy, which required extensive practice.

Thus, there was an overabundance of alchemical weapons for novices, while the number of artisans capable of crafting higher-quality weapons dwindled sharply, making them far more expensive.