Chapter 91: The Alchemy Cottage

When Liu Zhi awoke from his meditation, it was already deep into the night. Through this round of meditation, he had discerned the limits of the Eye of Lasha Meditation Technique: Lasha’s journey across the sky from the mortal realm to the underworld marked one complete cycle, and Liu Zhi could only perform three such meditations each day. Any more, and he would feel as though his body were being scorched by the sun. At the same time, a clear understanding would arise in his mind—if he persisted, he would be burned alive by the sun’s fire.

Once he stopped, Liu Zhi rose and stretched. He realized that besides feeling refreshed, the meditation had also restored all the magical energy he had expended that day.

He looked around and saw that only Videnina remained by his side; the Spinner Spiderwoman had vanished.

“Where’s that chatterbox?” Liu Zhi asked curiously.

Videnina lifted her hand and pointed a short distance away. Liu Zhi saw the Spinner Spiderwoman diligently engaged in her own work. She was at the edge of the Underworld Palace, spinning copious amounts of web. Under her command, a few skeletons carried stones to the edge of the palace, pressing them down onto the webs.

What’s going on here? Driven by curiosity, Liu Zhi walked over to take a closer look. He discovered her webs were not ordinary spider silk; they possessed impressive adhesiveness. When stones were stacked atop the silk, it would melt into a white liquid, ultimately functioning like cement to bind the stones together.

“This stuff would be perfect for building houses,” Liu Zhi remarked.

Hearing this, the Spinner Spiderwoman opened her mouth, ready to launch into a lengthy explanation. Liu Zhi hastily interrupted her, “Wait, I actually wanted to ask you something. This kind of spider silk—you don’t produce it naturally, do you? Is there a recipe for it? If so, we could mass produce it and build our city walls first.”

“There is!” As soon as Liu Zhi brought this up, she forgot what she was about to say and eagerly began to explain. “The formula is in my memory—I’m not sure how it’s made, but it definitely exists. In fact, there are several recipes. The one I’m using now transforms into adhesive; there’s another that doesn’t dissolve, which I plan to use on the outer walls, and then there’s…”

She rattled off several recipes at such a rapid pace that Liu Zhi could barely keep up.

“Stop, stop for a moment. I can’t remember all this, and I’m not the one who needs to study it anyway. Wait, I think I have the blueprint for an Alchemy Workshop. Hold on,” Liu Zhi said, finding a better solution before his head exploded from the flood of information. He took out the blueprint and looked for a suitable spot to place it.

After considering the size of the Alchemy Workshop and recalling his plans for the Underworld Palace, Liu Zhi finally decided to situate the workshop on the palace’s western side. He had already mapped out the layout: the ruins of the original pyramid would serve as the palace’s heart. The north was his personal domain, reserved for core buildings. The south would become the barracks, where all military training took place; for instance, the mass grave had been relocated there. The west was designated as the industrial area, future home to blacksmiths and alchemy workshops, while the east would be the enhancement zone, housing training grounds and mage towers.

His hesitation stemmed from the need to reserve a large open space for the Alchemy Workshop, since its final upgrade would transform it into a sizable structure. If he didn’t plan ahead, it would cause problems later.

Once the workshop was placed, the Spinner Spiderwoman dashed over, as if anticipating something. In no time, a small stone building, less than fifteen square meters in size, rose from the ground. The initial design resembled Liu Zhi’s vision—entirely stone, adorned with South American-style carvings. But soon, something felt off: thick layers of cobwebs covered the exterior, making it look like an abandoned stone house, untouched for ages, with no hint of the undead aesthetic.

Bemused, Liu Zhi stepped inside and found the same situation within—cobwebs everywhere. Several empty wooden racks lined the walls, their intended vessels now replaced by webs. Piled in the corners were cauldrons of various sizes, indicating a decent stock of equipment and materials, though the place felt as though it hadn’t been used in ages.

The only spot that seemed remotely clean was a thick leather-bound book hanging from the ceiling by an iron chain. Liu Zhi pulled it down and found it recorded four basic alchemical potions and six spider silk recipes previously mentioned by the Spinner Spiderwoman.

On closer inspection, Liu Zhi noticed that each recipe had a percentage marked after it.

He was still puzzling over this when the Spinner Spiderwoman chimed in, “Look, my silk recipes have been recorded! I can produce these in large quantities here, but the material ratios seem different from what I remember—I wonder why…”

“Quiet! Let me study this a moment.” Liu Zhi barked, cutting her off. He took the heavy book and examined it thoroughly.

After flipping through the recipes, a new interface appeared before his eyes. It was similar to the one for the mass grave, but with notable differences. The interface was divided into two parts. The top listed the recipes from the book, each with a 0% mark beneath it—clearly, having the recipe alone wasn’t enough for production. Without a skilled alchemist, even an alchemy workshop was useless; automatic production required the workshop to be at least level five.

The bottom half of the interface was for assigning personnel to the workshop. Assigning someone would alter the relevant data, but for now, only Videnina and the Spinner Spiderwoman met the requirements. All other undead were mere cannon fodder and couldn’t be assigned.

After some thought, Liu Zhi assigned the Spinner Spiderwoman to the Alchemy Workshop.

Instantly, the percentage next to her spider silk recipes rose to 30%.