Chapter 167 (1/2)

Howard stared at the materials placed before him. With the help of the system, it had taken him only two days to gain Teacher Botan’s permission to begin concocting. Since he could answer all of her questions properly no matter what they were about, Teacher Botan saw no reason to delay his foray into medicinal concoctions even when taking his low cultivation aptitude into consideration. Unlike alchemical concocting, medicinal concoctions didn’t require fire or much spiritual energy to proceed. Usually, the concoctions were created through mixing the herbs with one another in hot water like steeping tea. Sometimes, medicinal herbs were ground up and smeared into a paste. Since even a mortal could excel in medicinal concocting, it was looked down upon by cultivators; however, it was still a fact that medicinal concoctions could have the same effect as entry-level pills created by alchemists.

“Relax,” Teacher Botan said, easily gauging Howard’s mental state. Her personal disciple was nervous, which was understandable. He was about to put what he had learned into practice for the first time; however, no matter how poor his skills were, Teacher Botan would nurture him properly. “It doesn’t matter if you mess up the first time. No matter how well read on a subject you are, nothing will prepare you for experiencing it the first time yourself. Only by applying yourself can you truly comprehend what you’ve read.”

Howard nodded. With such an understanding teacher, any other student would’ve relaxed, even if just a little bit. However, all Teacher Botan’s words did was make him even more nervous. It didn’t matter if he messed up on the first time? Didn’t that mean most of the people she taught had failed the first time they tried? Perhaps all her students had failed, leading her to say words such as those. Unlike her previous students, Howard had another sort of teacher installed inside of his head.

[Failure will not be tolerated. If you fail to impress Teacher Botan by performing perfectly, the system will smite you with lightning and hellfire.]

Howard gulped, his hands shaking as he reached towards the uprooted plant on the table. He was supposed to peel three of its leaves off and steep them in lukewarm water. Afterwards, he had to cut the stem down the middle and separate it into halves with an equal number of roots on both sides. When that was done, one half needed to be mashed, and the other half needed to be minced. The steps went on and on. In the end, he was making a simple herbal paste meant for helping open wounds heal. What should’ve been a simple matter had been turned into a life-or-death situation by the tool her thought was his blessing, and Howard couldn’t help but feel a bit betrayed.

[The system is powered by the user’s emotions. Stronger emotions such as betrayal or heartbreak generate lots of energy for the system to use. In order for the system to assist you in the best manner possible, these situations are absolutely necessary.]

In order to assist him in the best manner possible, it’d be better not to kill him! Howard took in a deep breath. Wasn’t it just death? He was scared of it, sure, but that didn’t mean he’d let it stop him. Rather than being dead, he was more afraid of being mediocre. If he wasn’t brave enough to attempt making a medicinal paste out of a plant, then how was he ever going to have the courage to go against the heavens and become an immortal? His eyes blazed with determination, and he tore three leaves off the plant as if he had been doing the action for years. He tossed the leaves into the lukewarm water and grabbed the nearby knife. With surgical precision, he split the stem into two perfect halves and separated them with a flick of his wrist. It was easy! Howard’s confidence swelled, and he mashed one half of the plant before mincing the other, following the steps of the recipe perfectly.

Teacher Botan’s eyes lit up. Howard’s aptitude in cultivation was just alright, but his aptitude in medicinal concoctions was phenomenal! It was as if his hands belonged to a ten-thousand-year-old master of concocting. It made her question whether Howard had been truly honest or not about his experience with forming prescriptions. As Howard approached the last steps of the prescription, there was a shattering sound. Just in case her student ended up being a genius, Teacher Botan had implemented a flaw in the recipe. If he caught the mistake, then she could judge him at an even higher standard. If he didn’t catch the mistake and failed the concoction, then he’d learn a lesson in humility. Either way, it was a win-win. Teacher Botan’s petals fluttered upon seeing Howard’s devastated face staring at the shattered plate, and she shuffled over to his side to comfort him.

Howard gulped. He was dead. His first attempt failed, and now the system was going to smite him. Why had he agreed to do this? Why did the system parasitize him? It wasn’t fair!

[Life isn’t fair. Also, the system is not going to smite you. It was a joke, a method to encourage you.]

Howard’s mind blanked. Joke? The system knew how to tell jokes? Did that mean he wasn’t going to be smote for making a mistake? System, can you not do such things in the future?

[The threat of death doesn’t drive you very well, or you would’ve succeeded. Be at ease; in the future, the system will refrain from making such threats.]