Dragon Clan: My Dad is Ange

He didn't even notice the wine dripping from the corner of his mouth.

The bronze alchemical heart continued to beat, stimulating the nerves of the alchemist master like wild waves.

"These..." He put down the bottle and gently touched the still-beating alchemical heart with trembling fingers. "Did you make these?"

Ye Fan nodded: "I want to transplant them into the human body, but the experimental subjects can't bear it."

Flamel examined each alchemical organ as if caressing a lover, the intoxication in his eyes gradually replaced by shock:

"Damn... these dragon patterns... this way of energy transmission..." He suddenly looked up and stared at Ye Fan, "Where did you learn these techniques?"

"Part of it comes from the ancient books of the Chen family, and part of it is my own understanding."

Ye Fan answered truthfully.

In fact, most of it is his own understanding, and some conjectures based on his research on his own heart.

It is the culmination of an entire mixed-race dynasty's alchemical technology, and it is still absolutely astonishing even today.

Flamel took a big gulp of wine, as if trying to calm himself down:

"Listen, kid, these things you made..."

He pointed at the subtle lines on the alchemical heart. "I've seen similar arrangements of these inscriptions in alchemical manuscripts from thousands of years ago, but that was only a theory! No one has ever truly achieved it!"

Ye Fan raised his eyebrows slightly: "So, is there a solution?"

"way?"

Flamel screamed:

"Do you know what you've created? These aren't simple mechanical replacements, they're living alchemical creations!"

He waved the bottle excitedly.

"But you're right, direct transplantation does have its problems. The human nervous system can't adapt to so many foreign objects."

The old alchemist suddenly fell silent, a thoughtful glint in his eyes.

"Unless... the organ framework is grown from the recipient's own cells and then alchemically enhanced. This way the nervous system will recognize it as part of itself."

Ye Fan's eyes lit up: "Similar to cloning technology, but with alchemical transformation added?"

"Clever!" Flamel nodded in appreciation, "But it requires extremely high attainments in biological alchemy..."

"I don't know where you got your alchemical knowledge, but it's not systematic. It's extensive but superficial. You need the wisdom of those who came before you."

He looked at Ye Fan meaningfully, "Coincidentally, I have some relevant information here."

Ye Fan understood and took out another bottle of fine wine hidden in his pocket - this time it was Macallan 55-year-old single malt whisky. Flamel's eyes immediately widened.

"Good boy!" He snatched the bottle, "Follow me!"

Flamel led Ye Fan through the cluttered attic and pushed open a hidden door. Inside was a miniature library with shelves filled with ancient manuscripts.

"These..." Ye Fan gently stroked a leather-covered book and felt the faint dragon energy contained in it.

"My personal collection."

"Strictly speaking, it's a collection of thousands of years from the lineage of the top alchemist, Flamel."

Flamel said proudly:

"Alchemical knowledge accumulated since the fourteenth century. The third row over there is about biological alchemy."

"Of course, there is alchemical knowledge from before the 14th century, and some of it can even be traced back to the ancient Babylonian dynasty. But that alchemical knowledge is too complex, and after generations of revisions, we finally compiled it into these manuscripts."

He suddenly became serious. "You can't take these books away, and you can't copy them. You can only read them here. Do you understand?"

Ye Fan nodded solemnly: "That's enough, thank you."

Then, the vice-principal felt his own discipline shaking again.

When late at night fell, Ye Fan turned off the 10x Extended Time Zero and closed the last book reluctantly.

He stayed here for a full 9 hours. If you multiply that by 10, it means he read books for 90 hours.

The complexity of these alchemy books far exceeds the imagination of ordinary humans, and the so-called advanced mathematics is nothing but child's play in front of them.

Even with Ye Fan's first-generation intelligence, it would be difficult to study it. So, after nearly four days of sleepless reading, he finally managed to stuff all the knowledge into his mind.

Even the emperor would fall to the ground if he encountered such a situation.

But Ye Fan's bloodline is now stronger than Huang's. Previously, Long Xin transformed his bloodline with a hundred times the efficiency, which greatly improved his bloodline. Even two of the Nine Dragon Sons' core abilities were awakened.

The huge force used to amplify strength and the extreme speed used to amplify speed can only be said to be going further and further in pure data flow.

Ye Fan covered his forehead and felt a splitting headache.

All that remains is to integrate these theoretical knowledge in the long experiments that follow.

A brand new experimental plan has been constructed in Ye Fan's mind.

"Any results?"

Flamel leaned against the door frame, playing with a delicate alchemical device in his hand.

"a lot of."

Ye Fan said sincerely, "The part about neural synchronization is particularly helpful."

"As long as it's helpful, it's fine. It's rare to see students who can concentrate on reading for nine hours. Students nowadays are too impatient. I was the same back then."

"They all say that Chinese students only know how to study. In fact, in the eyes of our alchemy masters, this is actually a compliment to the apprentices. After all, even such qualified apprentices are rare among the hybrids nowadays."

Flamel sighed after a long time.

Of course, to become a true alchemy master, you need talent, but to become an alchemy researcher, you need to be able to calm down.

"Are you coming tomorrow?" Flamel shook the empty bottle, a cunning glint in his eyes.

Ye Fan raised the corner of his mouth slightly: "I'll bring two bottles of better ones."

As I walked out of the bell tower, the moonlight shone on the cobblestone road of the campus.

Ye Fan looked up at the starry sky and felt a long-lost anticipation.

For some reason, he suddenly found the feeling of studying math overtime in his senior year of high school in his previous life.

Although it is annoying, there is further joy in going further.

In front of the attic window, Flamel watched Ye Fan's receding back until he saw him completely gone. Then he picked up his mobile phone which could not directly contact Angers.

"Old immortal! I told Ye Fan that he must follow me. He is a genius in alchemy!"

"I bet his IQ is definitely over 360!!"

"What do you mean you're afraid I'll lead him astray?!"

"Old scoundrel, let me tell you, you're no less shameless than me! What do you mean you're the only one worthy of teaching him? I'm telling you, even if I have to fight you, he has to become my student!!"

Chapter 122 Filling the German Man's Belly

The lights in the dormitory seemed especially warm in the evening. Ye Fan threw his phone onto the bed and stretched, his bones making a slight crackling sound.

"Starving."

He rubbed his stomach, his sapphire eyes gleaming in the dim room. "Fingal, what do you want to eat? It's my treat."

The burly German man who was busy typing code in front of his laptop suddenly looked up, his white-blond hair messy like a wheat field struck by lightning.

"Junior, are you serious?" He swallowed, "Brother, I want to eat good food. At least steak and foie gras!"

Ye Fan chuckled and slid his fingers quickly across the phone screen.

"Do I look like a mean person?"

Without looking up, he said, "How about some proper German food? A double steak, a double order of foie gras, and a bottle of good wine."

Fingle's eyes lit up like a wolf smelling meat.

He slammed his notebook shut, his muscular arms squeezing the armrests of the chair.

"Junior, I actually feel..."

"Plus a Bavarian roast pork knuckle." Ye Fan pressed the order button, and the phone screen reflected the curve of his mouth, "with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes."

The German man's expression instantly changed from flattering to even more flattering, like a big golden retriever wagging its tail.

"Junior! My dear junior!"

He rushed over and wanted to give Ye Fan a bear hug, but when he saw the pair of golden eyes that seemed to be smiling, he suddenly stopped, "Uh... I mean, you are so thoughtful."

While waiting for the takeaway, Ye Fan dragged out a game console from under the bed.

"Want a couple of games?" He tossed a controller to Finger. "I'd like to introduce you to some friends."

When the screen lit up, Finkel noticed that there were only three names in Ye Fan's friend list: a rookie named "Ming Ming Bu Yi Lu", a swordsman with the ID "Murasame", and a chatterbox with the nickname "Lao Tang".

"This is...?" Finkel raised his eyebrows.

"Lu Mingfei, Chu Zihang, and Ronald Tang." Ye Fan said casually, his fingers flying on the handle, "They are all interesting guys."

During the third round of the game, the doorbell rang.

Finkel rushed to open the door like a shark smelling blood, and came back with a takeaway bag half a person's height in his arms.

The aroma of food instantly filled every corner of the dormitory, and even the green ivy on the windowsill seemed to be more lively.

"Oh my god, did they move the whole store here?"

Finkel tore open the package, and the shiny roasted pork knuckle shimmered with an alluring luster under the light. The moment the crispy skin cracked, steam gushed out, carrying the aroma of meat.

"You said you eat a lot, and I happen to eat a lot too, so I always buy the largest portion."

Ye Fan had already set the tableware - if eating with your hands could be considered tableware.

He broke off a large piece of pork knuckle, grease dripping from his fingers onto the wooden table. "You're welcome," he mumbled, his mouth full, "just treat it like home."

Fingle's eating style seemed more like he was performing some kind of primitive ritual.

He held the pork knuckle in his hands, the sound of his teeth tearing at the crispy skin reminiscent of hyenas on the African savannah. He put spoonful after spoonful of mashed potatoes and sauerkraut into his mouth, and before his Adam's apple rolled, half a bottle of red wine was already empty.

"Slow down." Ye Fan handed over the napkin. "No one is going to snatch it from you."

“…Except me.”