Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 99 Can I also obtain “favor”?
Ron stood in front of the door of Workshop No. 14 in the East District, holding a brand new key in his hand.

Although this two-story building is not as good as the independent tower of the senior apprentice, it is already an extremely luxurious treatment for him who has just been promoted to a professional potion master.

The brick-red exterior walls, the iron-framed windows, the small flower bed in front of the door, each one reveals the school's emphasis on potion makers.

The two of them worked together to move Ron's few personal belongings into the workshop. Most of the furniture had been delivered in advance as arranged by Gwyneth.

The interior of No. 14 East was even more spacious than Ron had imagined—the first floor was a living room and potion-making room, while the second floor had bedrooms and a small laboratory.

"awesome."

Ron looked around with satisfaction, especially at the spacious and bright potion-making room, which was fully equipped with various exquisite tools and equipment.
“It’s much better than I thought.”

After putting away the last box of medicinal herbs, Andre wiped the sweat from his forehead and offered to leave.

As a member of the royal family, although there are no extra benefits, there are actually some privileges. At least you don’t have to worry about your housing.

Besides, the other party didn't take the initiative to keep me, so I should leave as soon as possible.

Ron nodded, said goodbye to Andre, and then couldn't wait to go to the potion brewing room.

Just as I was preparing to stock up on some more medicines to facilitate sales after the official opening, a completely unfamiliar yet strangely familiar feeling suddenly emerged from the bottom of my heart.

It was an indescribable existence, neither substantial nor illusory, like a stream of clear spring quietly flowing into his spiritual ocean.

Ron couldn't even determine whether it came from outside or from within, as if it existed in a completely different dimension and only accidentally intersected with the real world.

This power seems to have unparalleled purity, without any impurities or negative effects, like the most primitive and pure form of energy in the universe.

Even with just a brief contact with it, he felt an unprecedented sense of spiritual purification, as if something had quietly washed away a trace of haze deep in his consciousness.

"This is..." Ron's eyes widened in surprise, and he almost dropped the test tube in his hand, "'favor'?"

Mrs. Allen once mentioned that when a young person makes a breakthrough under the guidance of a mentor, the pure energy generated by this growth will be fed back to the mentor in the form of "favor."

But at this moment, he clearly felt a faint "grace" flowing into his spiritual world. Although it was extremely small, it was extremely clear.

The feeling is like suddenly finding a drop of dew in the desert. Although it is insignificant, it is extremely precious because of its purity.

Ron searched a little and quickly traced the source of the favor:
The scene of Eric asking him to go on stage and share his meditation experience in the magic circuit optimization class today automatically emerged in his mind.

At that time, he used the metaphor of "water flowing through the river channel" to clearly explain the principle of circular flow, which resonated with the students.

Especially the thin apprentice wearing glasses. Ron remembered that there was a glimmer of sudden enlightenment in his eyes, and he even nodded slightly in agreement.

It was a heartfelt gratitude that came from the relief of finally understanding a problem that had troubled him for a long time.

"I see..." He finally understood and put the test tube in his hand on the shelf beside him, his eyes flashing with excitement.

"It's not just about formally teaching and answering questions. As long as you can truly help others understand and grow, and make them feel grateful from the bottom of their hearts, you will receive the feedback of 'favor'."

Ron was very excited about this discovery.

He originally thought that "favor" was an exclusive benefit for mentors, which required long-term and systematic teaching to obtain.

I never imagined that I could harvest this precious pure energy simply by sharing my experience and having others truly benefit from it.

Although the "favor" we receive today is extremely small, almost imperceptible like a drop of water in the ocean, its existence proves the feasibility of this path.

This also explains why within the school, senior apprentices often take classes in place of their mentors and regularly hold small sharing sessions to pass on their experience to lower-level apprentices.

Ron's eyes flickered as he felt the subtle "blessing" settling in his body.

This power seems to be stored in a special dimension. It neither mixes with mental power nor affects the flow of magic power. It seems to be sealed in an independent space and can be called upon at any time to purify mental pollution.

"It seems that I must not let go of any opportunity to show myself in the future."

Ron made a decision in his mind, realizing that this was a win-win choice:

"By sharing knowledge, you can not only increase your understanding of skills and gain experience points, but also gain the precious pure energy of 'favor'."

"Once the workshop stabilizes, perhaps I can consider accepting a few truly talented students. The next batch of apprentice candidates should be here soon, and then I can see if there are any good ones."

A vague plan gradually formed in Ron's mind. He imagined a scene with several workbenches in a corner of the workshop and several focused young faces conducting experiments under his guidance:

"Those who are new to potions often need systematic guidance..."

Speaking of favors, he thought of his teacher, Mrs. Allen.

Ever since he passed the potion master certification, he rarely went to the herbal medicine store.

………………

A few days ago, Ron had just come out of the Potions Master Certification Examination Site and was ready to report the good news to his mentor.

The herbal medicine shop was deserted in the evening, and the wind chimes hanging in front of the door swayed gently in the breeze, making pleasant and crisp sounds.

When he pushed open the door, the familiar aroma of mixed herbs hit him in the face, making Ron feel an inexplicable sense of belonging.

Mrs. Allen was standing behind the counter, sorting the account books, her bony fingers drumming on the wrinkled and yellowed pages.

When she heard the doorbell, she just asked without looking up, "What do you need?"

The hoarse voice was as cold as ever.

"Ma'am, it's me, Ron."

He walked up to the counter, his tone filled with joy: "I have passed the potion master certification test!"

Mrs. Allen then raised her head, and her green eyes examined him as usual.

Ron had expected to see surprise or approval, but instead he only saw a calmness that was almost indifferent, as if he was just reporting on today's weather conditions.

"Well, that's expected."

She commented briefly, then lowered her head to continue writing down her accounts, the tip of her pen making a scratching sound on the paper:
"What rating did that old fellow Magnus give you?"

Ron's enthusiasm seemed to be extinguished by a bucket of cold water, and a sense of loss welled up in his heart.

He coughed lightly and adjusted his tone. "An 'Excellent' rating, ma'am. Signed by Master Magnus himself."

"Oh? 'Excellent'?"

The old woman's tone remained calm, but her skinny fingers paused slightly, leaving a small smudge of ink on the paper:
"That old fogey has always been reluctant to give high praise. It seems that you have indeed performed well." Ron noticed this detail keenly, and his sense of loss was slightly reduced.

She closed the account book, and her wrinkled eyes finally looked directly at Ron:

"You've shown rare talent and understanding since your arrival, so passing the certification is a given. If you can't even achieve this, then I'd start to wonder if I was wrong."

Although these words are not direct compliments, they are better than compliments.

Ron smiled slightly and walked aside as usual, ready to help Mrs. Allen tidy up the clutter on the counter, just as he used to do when he was an assistant.

Various potion bottles, dried herbs, and small measuring instruments were scattered on the counter, and his fingers were already unconsciously sorting them.

"Let me help you with these..."

"Stop." Mrs. Allen's voice suddenly rose, carrying a sense of command that could not be disobeyed:

"You are a professional potion master now, not my assistant anymore. You shouldn't be doing these tasks."

Ron froze in mid-air, looking at Mrs. Allen in surprise.

Seeing the other person standing there in a daze, a rare hint of playfulness appeared on Mrs. Allen's face:

"I, Old Alan, can't afford to pay a professional potion master a salary. A talent like you is worth at least a dozen magic stone fragments per hour. The entire day's turnover of my small shop isn't even enough to pay you half a day's salary."

Ron was amused by the other party's rare sense of humor:
"Ma'am, you know that's not what I meant. I just wanted to help you run the store, just like I used to."

"I know." Mrs. Allen's expression became serious again, and her green eyes looked straight at him, as if she wanted to see through his soul:
"But I'm serious, Ron. From today on, you need to focus on your own research and improvement instead of wasting time doing chores here."

She walked slowly around the counter, her hunched body casting a long shadow in the dim light.

The lighting in the herbal medicine store is always dim, reportedly to protect rare materials that are sensitive to light.

In this light, Mrs. Allen's face looked older, but her eyes were still as sharp as an eagle.

"Every day you delay your promotion is a day lessening your 'favor' to me."

Her voice deepened, and a desire flashed in her eyes that Ron had never seen before:

"I, an old fellow, am still counting on you to help me stay alive."

Although there was a hint of sarcasm in the words, Ron could sense the seriousness in them. He nodded slightly:

"I understand, ma'am. I will work harder to live up to your expectations."

"Go ahead. I heard that No. 14 in the East District has been assigned to you. That's a good position."

Mrs. Allen waved her hand, signaling him to leave quickly if he was fine:

"Make good use of your new workshop and don't waste that brilliant mind. The fact that old Magnus gave you an 'Excellent' rating proves that your potential far exceeds that of an ordinary potion master."

Ron bowed to her solemnly:
"Thank you for your continued guidance, ma'am. If you need any assistance, just send word. I'm always at your service."

"Go on, young man." Mrs. Allen's voice was barely perceptible and gentle. "Your future isn't in this small herbal medicine shop."

When Ron's figure disappeared outside the door and the wind chimes made their last crisp sound, Mrs. Allen's expression slowly changed.

A complex expression appeared on that wrinkled face, showing both relief and a certain expectation that was almost longing.

She walked quickly to the back room, her movements much more agile than usual, and locked the door of the herbal medicine store to ensure that no one would suddenly break in.

Taking out a small silver mirror from under the counter, Mrs. Allen carefully checked every corner around her. After confirming that there was no one around, she slowly let down the psychological defenses she had been maintaining.

In an instant, the image of the old witch changed dramatically.

The wrinkled skin became smooth and delicate, as flawless as fine porcelain.

The hunched back straightened and the skinny figure became plump and graceful.

The most eye-catching thing was that the withered silver hair turned back into a lustrous pink-purple color, cascading down like a waterfall.

A stunningly beautiful woman replaced the frail old woman. Her only unchanging feature was her dark green eyes, which now looked brighter and deeper.

This change only lasted for a dozen seconds, and then she returned to the image of an old woman. But unlike usual, this time the transformation was under her active control, rather than being forced back due to lack of strength.

Mrs. Allen's hand gently stroked the ugly scar on her waist and abdomen that could not be erased. It had been with her for hundreds of years and was a permanent memorial to her past failures.

It was a scar that ran diagonally from her left rib to her right waist. It should have been fatal, but due to the intervention of some mysterious power, she survived. The price was that she would never be able to fully recover.

"Unbelievable! This is the first time I've returned to full strength outside of my magic active period."

She whispered to herself, her voice trembling with undisguised excitement, "The 'favor' bestowed by that child is so pure and abundant."

She walked to the full-length mirror and looked at herself in the mirror carefully.

Even though she had regained her old appearance, her eyes were brighter than usual and the wrinkles on her skin seemed to have decreased.

"No wonder the prophecy said that my chance of success lies in the Black Mist School."

Mrs. Allen stroked the image in the mirror, complex emotions flickering in her eyes:
"I wonder what those old guys at the Crystal Spire would think if they knew I'd found such a talented student."

She turned and walked towards the medicine shelf, taking out a bottle of long-sealed potion from the top shelf. It was a potion specifically used to detect the degree of mental pollution.

Carefully pouring a drop into her palm, she watched the liquid gradually fade from dark blue to light blue.

"Spiritual pollution has been reduced by at least 30%."

Her eyes widened in surprise and she repeated the test in disbelief, but the result was the same:

"This is too exaggerated..."

The spiritual pollution that had to be forcibly suppressed in the past is now like a huge rock that has been pressing on her chest for a long time being partially removed, allowing her to breathe more freely.

"If this momentum continues, I might have a chance to advance further. Who would have thought that an ordinary boy of the sixth magnitude star would become my lifeline."

Mrs. Allen sighed softly, sat back at her workbench, and began to process some special materials, including a grayish tongue coating and tiny specks of crystalline moss...

"I'm still short of a few ingredients. I don't know when this guy will be able to gather them all. But I'm not in a hurry. I'll give them to him when the time comes. Unfortunately, I can't leave the store, otherwise..."

(End of this chapter)