The Alchemy Furnace
Also known as "I Possess an Alchemical Furnace." His fields were seized, and the local gentry acted without scruples. Faced with the burden of exorbitant annual rents, Ji Die relied on a furnace he st
“Steward Zhang, these grains are for next spring’s planting—you can't take them all!”
Inside a thatched hut, a frail boy clung tightly to a cloth bag, refusing to let go.
“Enough nonsense. You farm the Yang family’s land; paying grain tribute is only right! Your spring grain shortage is none of my concern!” Steward Zhang’s face was bloated with fat, his eyes bulging like copper bells. Suddenly, he kicked the boy square in the face.
His build was burly and he practiced martial arts regularly; the kick was powerful. Blood filled the boy’s mouth, and he rolled several times across the ground before stopping.
Steward Zhang glanced at him coldly, then, as if nothing had happened, hoisted the newly seized grain onto his shoulder, humming a tune as he walked away.
“Eighteen Touches, Eighteen Touches—touch the peach, touch the apricot—”
The boy struggled to his feet, watching the man’s retreating figure, his thin body trembling slightly.
His eyes, red with rage, fixed on a stone in the corner.
A loud thud.
The November wind rattled the wooden door, causing it to shake, and for a moment, Steward Zhang’s footsteps seemed to pause.
Time stood still, until, a moment later, the footsteps resumed, fading away.
Inside, the boy weakly tossed aside the brick in his hand. In the end, he dared not act.
Years of malnutrition had left him frail; he could never win a fight against someone like that. If he tried, he might be beaten to death then and there.
“Father, Mother, I did my best.” The boy’s pale lips mo