Chapter 10 (1/2)
A Murder In The County
Countless stars illuminated the cloudless night sky.
The Observatory—also known as the headquarters of the Imperial Astronomers—was the tallest building in Jingzhao City.
The young woman dressed in a yellow robe ascended the steps effortlessly. As she passed the seventh floor, she heard a clamor coming from the Red Room.
A group of white-robed alchemists were engaged in a heated argument.
“Another failure? It’s supposed to be a simple step.”
“Told you the salt concentration was incorrect.”
“No, I believe it’s the water.”
“I think the flame is the issue. I saw many burned the salt.”
“To change salt into silver is impossible! I can’t do it.”
Caiwei smirked and muttered under her breath, “These people are still trying to produce counterfeit silver.”
Two days ago, she had come back to the Observatory with the salt and silver story and none of the disciples believed her.
Salt could be transmuted into silver?
Even a three-year-old would not believe such falsehoods.
However, when the case of the missing tax money was solved, the Emperor—seeing the potential of the mystical fake silver—had ordered the Imperial Astronomers to perform the transmutation.
Thus began the neverending work for the alchemy experts of the Imperial Astronomers.
They had been toiling away for two days, yet they had nothing to show for.
“Caiwei, it’s Caiwei!” someone called out.
One by one, the haggard faces turned around and stared at her with hopeful eyes.
“Caiwei, how did you turn salt into fake silver?”
“Caiwei, can you check if the procedure is correct? You’re the only person who has successfully done it.”
The disciples surrounded the young woman.
Chu Caiwei had no choice but to enter the Red Room and observe their transmutation attempts.
“Another failure!” one of the alchemists lamented.
“Where is the mistake?” the group of white robes asked in a suppliant tone.
‘I performed the same steps…’ Chu Caiwei said mysteriously, “It is an arcane technique passed down from ancient texts, not something that is easily learned. It involves breaking down a complicated matter and absorbing the pieces to see the whole picture. Let me share with you a mnemonic chant, listen closely.”
Captivated by Caiwei’s words, the disciples leaned forward in anticipation.
“Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neon, sodium, magnesium, aluminium, silicon, phosphorus!” In a single breath, Caiwei delivered the impressive line.
The words were gibberish to the audience. It was clear no one knew what to do with the chant. “What does it mean?”
Chu Caiwei gave them an enigmatic smile. ‘I, myself, have no idea.’
“Amazing! Whoever wrote the chant is a genius,” someone said.
Chu Caiwei’s smile never faltered. ‘Genius? Dream on!’
“Caiwei, where did you learn about the chant? Did you receive guidance from an alchemy master?”
A good question. Chu Caiwei had intended to subtly reveal the person’s identity.
“The man is Xu Qian, the nephew of the seventh-ranked official from the Armed Guards, Xu Pingzhi. He will teach you the rest.”
The mention of a martial artist upsetted the group.
“Is that a joke? A disciple of the Imperial Astronomers seeking an outsider’s help?”
“A martial artist, no less.”
“If word got out, we will be the laughing stock of the city.”
The classification system gave rise to prejudices and friction among disciplines.
Taoism and Buddhism were always at odds with each other.
Sorcerers looked down on wizards and wizardesses who looked down on warlocks and witches who, in turn, despised sorcerers.
Then, all the above had a bone to pick with the martial artists.
As for the Confucians, well, they believed everyone else was garbage.
However, the recent generations of Confucians had substantially weakened.
“Caiwei, won’t you teach us?”
Caiwei hummed and said, “Next time!”
She made her escape and continued her upward journey.
To be honest, she knew nothing about the transmutation.
The only successful attempt she had seen was in Jingzhao Courts. Caiwei had tried her hand at the process but failed to produce any fake silver.
She had replicated the steps, and yet it was a failure. She did not understand why.
On the highest floor of the Observatory was an octagonal roof terrace that resembled the Eight Trigrams—hence the name, Eight Trigrams Terrace.
At the edge of the terrace was an old man dressed in a white robe. He was seated before a table with a wine cup in his hand. His head rested on the other arm as he semi-drunkenly gazed upon Jingzhao City.
Caiwei was amused but she did not disturb the old man. Her master spent most of his time drinking on the Eight Trigrams Terrace and enjoying the view.
He did not appreciate interruptions.
The old man squinted his eyes as if he was learning from humanity.
Then, he smiled. “Caiwei?”
“Master.” The young woman returned the smile as she jogged over to his side. The winds made her skirt flutter.
“What were the gifts from the Emperor?”