Since the little snake's injuries needed immediate treatment, Xiao Hai didn't waste time walking—he sprinted at full speed until he reached his home.
Once inside, he quickly fetched a clean cloth and warmed some water. With steady hands, he wiped away the blood and dirt clinging to the snake's small, battered body.
After carefully cleaning the wounds, he hurried to the courtyard and gathered several fresh herbs. Crushing them into a fine paste, he returned and gently applied the mixture onto the injured areas. Finally, he bound the snake's tiny body with strips of clean cloth, ensuring the paste stayed in place.
When the treatment was complete, the little snake looked almost comical, wrapped up tightly like a mummy. Yet seeing it breathing evenly, resting peacefully in his hands, Xiao Hai felt relieved—the creature's condition was already much better than before.
Seeing that the little snake was finally out of danger, Xiao Hai let out a quiet sigh of relief. He had never liked the idea of keeping pets, but he couldn't bring himself to ignore a helpless creature dying before his eyes. Helping it was simply something he had to do.
Settling into a chair, he let his gaze linger on the small snake. Most of its body was wrapped in strips of cloth, yet a few parts still remained visible. Under the dim light, he noticed its scales were a deep green, patterned with faint blue spots. More striking, however, was the single golden-yellow scale on its head, faintly glowing with a dim shimmer.
Xiao Hai's eyes narrowed slightly. Judging by its appearance, this was certainly no ordinary snake.
It looks like a mutated beast… or perhaps some kind of unknown magical beast, Xiao Hai thought to himself. But after a moment, he shook his head lightly. He didn't particularly care about its origin—what mattered now was that it had survived.
"If anyone can identify what kind of snake this is, it would be Mother," he murmured. With her knowledge as a pharmacist, she would surely recognize its traits.
"Hah, my whole relaxing plan was disturbed by you. What should I do now?" he muttered softly. But when his eyes fell on the little snake, curled up and sleeping soundly, he could only sigh in defeat.
"Seems like I can only cultivate for now… Hmm. Wait—maybe I can try that." His eyes brightened as an idea struck him.
Without wasting time, he stood up and made his way to his mother's room. The space was simple and neat, with only a sturdy reading table, a plain bed, and a wooden bookcase tucked in the corner. He went straight to the bookcase, running his fingers across the spines before pulling out a few well-worn books.
These books were nothing special like Dou Qi Methods or secret techniques. Instead, they were filled with illustrations of common and rare herbs, along with his mother's meticulous notes on medicinal properties and treatments.
In the vast Dou Qi Continent, if one were to ask which profession commanded the greatest respect and wealth, the answer would be unanimous—the Alchemist. With their ability to refine pills that could heal injuries, extend lifespans, and even accelerate cultivation, alchemists stood above countless warriors and nobles.
Even the strongest clans and sects would bow their heads in courtesy before a true alchemist.
Every person aspired to become an Alchemist. But not everyone could.
The requirements were simply too harsh.
The first was elemental affinity. To become an alchemist, one's soul must carry the fire attribute, fused with even the tiniest sliver of wood attribute to act as the catalyst during pill refinement. This single condition eliminated nearly all who dreamed of stepping onto the alchemist's path.
On the Dou Qi Continent, a person's attributes were determined by their soul. Most were born with a single attribute, while only a rare few possessed two. Sometimes, through chance encounters or strange fusions, a person could acquire a second attribute later in life. But for an alchemist, fire and wood together were indispensable.
The second requirement was wealth. Every pill required natural treasures—rare herbs, elemental essences, and even magical beast materials. Refinement was never one hundred percent guaranteed; even master alchemists suffered failures. Without immense resources, one could never support the extravagant costs of the alchemist's craft.
And finally, the third requirement—strength.
An alchemist with poor strength was nothing more than a fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered. Countless bandits and even greedy clans would kill without hesitation to seize herbs, pills, or refining methods. Only with sufficient personal power could an alchemist protect their treasures and their life.
Thus, in the eyes of the world, an alchemist was not just a scholar of herbs but a rare existence who combined talent, wealth, and power.
If possible, Xiao Hai also wished to become an Alchemist. But deep in his heart, he had a gut feeling—it was unlikely.
Still, whether one became an alchemist or not had nothing to do with gaining knowledge of herbs and natural treasures. Books were open to anyone who could read them, and understanding herbs was valuable in countless ways.
Moreover, there was another profession that commanded respect in its own right—the Pharmacist.
The difference between an Alchemist and a Pharmacist was vast. An Alchemist could refine pills that saved lives, accelerated cultivation, or even defied the heavens. A Pharmacist, however, could not create such miraculous pills.
Yet, pharmacists were equally respected. Why?
Because not everyone could afford the sky-high costs of an alchemist or their pills. For the common folk, and even for many clans, pharmacists were indispensable. By mixing and balancing various herbs, a skilled pharmacist could prescribe medicines that cured illness, healed wounds, strengthened the body, and prolonged life.
In a way, pharmacists were the true healers of the people.
And the requirements for becoming a Pharmacist were not harsh. One only needed to master the knowledge of various herbs and natural treasures. By understanding their properties, a pharmacist could create medicines to treat illnesses and heal wounds.
However, as the saying went—no one could compete with those who defied the heavens. Thus, the medicines crafted by pharmacists could never compare to the miraculous effects of pills refined by alchemists. Their prescriptions were useful, but only to the common folk and weaker cultivators.
Even so, the reason Xiao Hai now studied these books was simple—to recognize treasures.
"What if I encounter a natural treasure in the wild and fail to recognize it?" He thought to himself, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Wouldn't I cry from regret for not studying these books properly?"
With that mindset, he eagerly flipped open the first book, his eyes tracing every page with focus.