There are quite a few such examples. Benjamin Franklin, as the academic leader of alchemy, was deeply pained by this. Alchemists work in laboratories for years, coming into contact with many kinds of toxic substances, so most of them have short lives.

“There's also cryptography. The reason this subject is included is that the vast majority of alchemists' formulas are not expressed directly—everyone has their own unique code. So if you obtain an alchemical formula, the first thing you need to do is decrypt it.”

“Alchemy is a magical discipline, so it can't be easily passed on to others, and your formulas must never fall into the hands of those with ill intentions. You should know that could cause a disaster. That's why encrypting formulas is a lesson every alchemist must learn.”

As Benjamin Franklin spoke, he took out an ancient parchment scroll. “Take a look—this is a simple alchemical formula.”

William Graham leaned in for a look and was instantly dumbfounded. On the parchment, there was a strange drawing: inside a dark red circle was a pentagram, and at each point of the pentagram was a different symbol. In the center of the pentagram was a small circle, inside which was a black, peculiar symbol.

On the outer circle, corresponding to each point of the pentagram, there was an annotation written in a strange script.

“What does this mean?” William Graham had no idea how to interpret the drawing. If this was the simple version, he couldn't imagine how bizarre the complex ones must be.

However, he did understand the significance of formula encryption: it was like those martial arts masters of old, who compiled all their life's knowledge into a manual, but worried it might fall into the wrong hands and harm the martial world, so they added little tricks—like water-revealed ink or hidden compartments in the cover.

But William Graham scoffed at this: Are there no smart people among the bad guys?

Benjamin Franklin explained to him, “This is a formula for a potion that heals wounds. The dark red outer circle indicates that this potion is used on the battlefield—in alchemy, red represents iron, which extends to weapons, and thus to war.”

“The pentagram in the outer circle contains five symbols, each representing a different substance. Look, I said this formula is simple because it easily sparks your imagination.”

“The first point of the star shows a python, with a black dot behind its tail.” William Graham looked closely; the python was already tiny, and the black dot behind its tail was indeed hard to spot. “That black dot represents the python's excrement. On the southern Xingye Continent, there grows a plant called snake-dream grass, which only produces seeds if fertilized with python dung. So this first symbol represents snake-dream grass seeds.”

“Now, look at the second symbol. This is a temple—though simple, the god depicted with a single white horn is the unique emblem of the Unicorn God cult. The Unicorn God cult is not widespread across the three continents, but they have a famous ritual, the Unicorn's Lament. I won't go into the details of the ritual; you just need to know that its most famous offering is the luminous beast's gray hair—which is actually a kind of grass that glows at night.”

William Graham said with a smile, “So, this symbol represents that kind of grass.” Benjamin Franklin nodded: “That's right.”

The remaining three symbols each had their own meaning as well, and Benjamin Franklin explained them one by one. Then he said, “On the red outer circle, corresponding to each symbol, there is an annotation. You've already drunk the mind-opening potion, which contains the wisdom of language. Try to recall carefully.”

William Graham looked at those annotations, and gradually, the meanings surfaced in his mind. Suddenly enlightened, he said, “They're ancient Guslan incantations.” “Correct,” Benjamin Franklin nodded with a smile.

William Graham looked at each one. The annotation corresponding to the snake-dream grass seeds meant “dry steaming,” the one for the luminous beast's gray hair meant “soak and boil,” and the other three were “distillation,” “waxing,” and “reflux distillation.” William Graham started to get the idea: “These are the methods for processing each ingredient.” “Exactly,” Benjamin Franklin nodded in satisfaction. “You're very smart—you catch on quickly.”

“But how do you refine these ingredients into a healing potion for the battlefield?” William Graham was still a bit confused. Benjamin Franklin pointed to the inner circle. “See this symbol?”

A circle enclosing an equilateral triangle.

William Graham: “What does that represent?” “This is a universal alchemical symbol—it stands for a furnace. In other words, after processing all the ingredients separately, you refine them in a furnace. The symbol is white, which represents the moon—in alchemy, the moon has a special meaning: the next day. So the ingredients must be refined in the furnace for two days.”

After Benjamin Franklin's explanation, William Graham finally understood, and the last trace of his previous disdain for alchemy vanished completely. It seemed that any profession that could exist in this world had its unique aspects.

“But sir, even you, when explaining this formula to me, used the words ‘should be.’ Does that mean you're not certain either?”