Chapter 17: An Alchemical Genius?

After a while, the alchemists could not wait any longer and said, “Alright, Young Master Ye, we’ll take this box to study it now. We won’t disturb your celebration with Her Highness the Seventh Princess.”

“What’s so interesting about studying this box?” The little spendthrift was quite puzzled.

“It’s not for entertainment; this is no toy. We need to open the box and obtain Ban’s notes,” the alchemists answered solemnly.

“Notes? You mean this book?” Suddenly, a book appeared in the little spendthrift’s hand.

“Yes, that’s the alchemy notebook… Wait, no… You, you…” The alchemists pointed at him, their eyes wide as if they might fall out, wearing expressions of shock and disbelief.

“Ah…” At that moment, everyone’s mouths dropped open, staring at the little spendthrift in such astonishment that they couldn’t utter a sound.

“There are more. One, two, three, four… five. There are five books in this box.” The little spendthrift took out one book after another, while everyone else remained in a daze.

“Are you certain you weren’t lying to us just now? Was the box really so difficult to open?” The emperor and the others began to doubt the alchemists, suspecting they might have lied about the box being unopenable just to get the first look at the notes.

Yet everyone present knew that such a possibility was extremely slim.

The alchemists immediately swore, “No, absolutely not! How could we deceive Your Majesty? This box truly requires great effort and overcoming many obstacles to open. It’s just that…”

“Just that, how could a ten-year-old child open it so easily?” The emperor looked at the little spendthrift, his eyes filled with confusion and something stranger still.

Indeed, the very box that even the most elite alchemists could not open had been effortlessly unlocked by the thirteenth young master, without the slightest hindrance—so quickly that no one even noticed when it happened.

This left everyone surprised and stunned, doubting their eyes, doubting the reality before them.

If it had been another child, they might have called him a genius, but the thirteenth young master was known to be less than ordinary—how could he be a genius?

“Perhaps he’s an alchemical prodigy,” one alchemist suggested, though he clearly found it unlikely.

“Impossible. He’s never studied alchemy. We would never allow him to touch something so dangerous,” Long Anqi immediately dismissed the idea. As his mother, she knew her son well, at least in this regard.

“That’s right, Young Master has never learned alchemy, nor has he ever read an alchemy book,” Tiger Girl nodded in agreement.

If Long Anqi’s word wasn’t enough, Tiger Girl’s confirmation put all doubts to rest. After all, everyone knew she had been by the thirteenth young master’s side for years and was well aware of everything he had done.

“If he doesn’t know alchemy, how could he have opened it? Another coincidence? That boy truly is favored by Lady Luck—this is simply miraculous,” the emperor and the others discussed, settling on the only explanation they could: the thirteenth young master’s incredible luck.

At that moment, the seventh princess asked, “Ye Lang, how did you open the box?”

Her question made everyone realize they were speculating in the presence of the person in question. Why not just ask him directly?

Still, they worried he might not be able to explain.

“What do you mean, how did I open it? I just opened it. It wasn’t difficult at all.” As expected, the thirteenth young master’s answer explained nothing.

“It must be luck—there’s simply no other explanation,” everyone thought with a bitter smile. When luck is involved, no problem is insurmountable.

But was it really only luck?

“These alchemical arrays, I’m sure I’ve never seen them, so why do they feel so familiar?” The little spendthrift muttered as he looked through the alchemy notes, then made a decision that left everyone dumbfounded.

“I want to learn alchemy. I’m going to read these books.” With that, he stored the five alchemy notebooks into his spatial ring. The alchemists barely had time to react.

“Um, Young Master Ye, could you let us have those five books just now? We’ll exchange them for others—we have plenty of books here!” the alchemists pleaded, pulling out their treasured alchemy books. Normally, they would never part with them, but now they were desperate.

After receiving those books, Young Master Ye made an announcement that left everyone speechless.

“I’ll keep these books, but I’m not giving you anything in return!”

“…”

The alchemists were on the verge of tears, casting pleading glances at the emperor, hoping he would intervene and retrieve the five alchemy notebooks.

In truth, even without their pleas, the emperor would have found a way. He knew that if those notes remained with the little spendthrift, they would be of no use; only in the hands of the royal alchemists could they benefit the empire.

In the end, after some negotiation, the thirteenth young master agreed to lend out the alchemy notebooks, but only for three days—just long enough for the alchemists to copy them.

Let’s not forget, Ban’s notes were simply that: notes. As long as the contents were transcribed, there would be identical copies.

It was, in fact, the thirteenth young master who suggested this solution. The others had overcomplicated things, and hadn’t thought of such a simple approach, leaving many present red-faced with embarrassment.

Sometimes, the key to solving a problem is remarkably simple, yet people tend to make things more complicated, and the problem only grows more difficult.

“Young Master Ye, could you give us those books now, so we can make a copy for you as well…” the royal alchemists asked timidly. Since the idea had been raised, they naturally wanted to pursue it.

It would be a waste for Young Master Ye to keep such rare volumes to himself. If they could get the originals back, they would do anything, even at the cost of their dignity.

“Alright!” the thirteenth young master agreed readily, but then added, “But you have to copy all your books for me as well!”

“…”

Is this boy really the simpleton he’s rumored to be? He seems more like a little fox than a fool—could he be pretending?

Many people began to suspect as much, but only for a moment. No one believed anyone could keep up such an act from childhood.

In fact, the thirteenth young master was not pretending; he simply seemed to lack something—leaving him weak in some matters but exceptionally strong in others, such as his remarkable memory, and, perhaps, in alchemy, which he now intended to study.

And maybe—above all—his luck.