Page 57 of The Scarlet Alchemist

No. That would not be my life.

I had freed the prisoners under the nose of the Empress, I had brought back the dead from the river of death, and I would not let a coward like Zheng Sili stand beside the Moon Alchemist in my place. I would surpass my father’s skills and leave this palace as a royal alchemist, just as I’d told the prince all those months ago. I would stay here with my family.

As the sun rose higher, more and more alchemists began to gather outside the gates. Some of them paused to stare at me, frowning like they didn’t know who I was, and I remembered that I was wearing the silk dress from the prince, red as dawn. Did they see me as one of them, or as a child playing dress-up? It didn’t matter. None of them mattered anymore.

Soon, the guards opened the gates, and all of us filed inside. I remembered the first day, when there had been enough of us to fill the courtyard. Now there was hardly more than a dozen.

A guard led us deep into the palace, past the courtyard where the second exam had taken place. Soon I could no longer hear the sounds of the streets at all, as if we’d crossed into another world entirely.

At last, we reached a small courtyard filled with rows of wooden tables. The guard directed me to a table full of glass jars containing every stone in existence, the exact same setup as the other tables. But even knowing that I was being treated equally, I couldn’t relax. Surely they were going to put me at a disadvantage again. Because the alternative was that the test was so difficult that they didn’t think I could pass.

Zheng Sili was one of the few remaining alchemists, at a table on the far end. I shot him a glare harsh enough to corrode metal, but he looked ill and didn’t seem to notice. The official who had overseen the previous rounds was nowhere to be seen. I hoped he’d been fired.

The doors to the inner courtyard swung open, and the Empress herself emerged just as day was breaking over the horizon.

She wore a dress of pure gold silk, a train of it flowing behind her in a shimmering river. She was beautiful when I’d first seen her from a distance, but up close, she looked ethereal, like the sun itself had descended to earth and all of us were wildflowers hopelessly bending toward her light. She could more easily pass as the prince’s sister than his mother, with the same knifelike sharpness to her features, the same round golden eyes. Guards and servants followed close behind her as she took her seat in a golden throne at the front of the yard. All of us dropped to the ground, bowing, and I was grateful for the chance to hide my reaction.

This was the woman who had destroyed the House of Li, who wanted the prince dead, who had tried to kill his little sisters. Rage burned inside me, and I bowed for a second longer than necessary, careful to iron out my expression to not betray my thoughts.

“As all royal alchemists report to me, it is only appropriate that I supervise the final exam,” the Empress said, her voice echoing against the stone walls, pinning me in place. “However, this exam will be different from the previous ones.”

The courtyard fell still, no one even daring to breathe as we waited for the Empress’s next words.

“I am sure none of you know what to expect for today’s test,” the Empress continued. “This is intentional. The work we do here, and what we ask of you, is confidential. It will remain a secret of the House of Li, now and forever. That is why those of you who do not succeed today will not be leaving my palace.”

My whole body went numb, like I was about to faint again, but my bones were locked tight in place, feet rooted to the ground. The runners-up couldn’t leave? What were they meant to do in the palace? Become servants? I glanced at the other alchemists, their carefully controlled expressions, the fear bright in their eyes. No one was brave enough to ask for clarification.

“Now that you know this,” the Empress said, “I will give you one last chance to leave. You may forfeit your chance and walk away freely to do whatever you want with your life. Aside from practicing alchemy, that is. This privilege is reserved for my alchemists alone. If you wish to leave now, no one will stop you.”

I swallowed and gripped the edge of the table, thinking of how I hadn’t even said a real goodbye to Wenshu and Yufei this morning. What would they do if I never came home?

Would they even care?a bitter voice whispered in my ear. I clenched my jaw and shoved the thought down. I needed to get home to them, but I couldn’t come back empty-handed, stripped of my right to do alchemy.

I would return to them as a royal alchemist, or not at all.

The Empress waited for a long, breathless moment, but none of the other alchemists moved.

“All right,” the Empress said. “Now that we’re finished with formalities, we can begin. I have only one task for you today. If none of you can do it, then none of you will pass. No one has succeeded in the last four years.”

I tasted sweat on my lips and tried to still my shaking hands. What kind of challenge was so impossible?

“Before you are the hundred most common stones used in alchemical transformations,” the Empress said, gesturing to the tables. “If you desire any that aren’t here, you may ask for them, and they will be provided to you.”

Any stone I could ask for?Surely that would make this easy.

“Your task,” the Empress said, her lips curling into a vicious smile, “is to create life.”

At first, I thought I’d misheard her. But the deathly silence of the other alchemists, their gray expressions and petrified gazes, only confirmed it. The echo of her impossible request faded away, trees shifting above us as if unsettled by her words.

Life alchemy was strictly forbidden in all of China by the Empress herself. But apparently her own alchemists were exempt from her rules. That explained her secrecy.

But legality aside, this wasn’t something even the wealthiest scholars could study. No one would dare publish writing on this kind of alchemy. If she’d given me a dead person, or even an animal, I’d be finished in moments, having done it a thousand times over. But we had nothing but stones to use as catalysts. How could we create life where none had ever existed? Was that even possible? Surely the cost would be too high.

The sudden silence in the courtyard told me the other alchemists were probably thinking the same thing. None of them so much as breathed, their eyes flickering across the stones as if the answer would reveal itself.

“Do not dare present me with a plant,” the Empress said, rolling her eyes. “I want to see a living, breathing creature. Only the first one of you to succeed will pass.”

I swallowed, glancing at the remaining alchemists. I’d always thought I was a good alchemist, but I knew I wasn’t the best. I had clawed my way here through anger and luck and determination, but that couldn’t possibly be enough to finish first.

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