"I Became a Witch, but Now Everyone's in Love with Me!"

Chapter 32: Chabao’s First Alchemical Product
After seeing Shi Lan off, Jiang Cha opened her shopping list and promptly spent all 100 witch gold.

Before long, bundles of low-level materials were spit out from the alchemy room’s delivery chute.
“They really thought of everything for us homegirls,” she muttered with a pout.
Honestly, she wanted to pick up the supplies herself—maybe get to know some of the upperclassmen in the Alchemy Society and tease that socially awkward senior, Anzi. Why not?

But since the materials were delivered right to her door, she didn’t bother making the trip.
The alchemy formulas Jiang Cha currently had access to were all basic, standard ones. In other words, the kind you’d find in beginner textbooks—formulas that had long been mass-produced. For an average alchemist, trying to make money off those was a complete fantasy.
Factories had already been built at the source of raw materials. Mechanized assembly lines churned out puppets and potions at scale, creating the classic cost advantage of mass production. Labor costs? Practically zero. Competing with that as a small independent alchemist was pure wishful thinking.

So why did people say alchemy was profitable?
Because it was full of potential.
A profession built on the miraculous power of magic was bound to have endless possibilities. What newcomers needed was a sense of direction and imagination.

The ability to alter the basic properties of materials, paired with the near-infinite variety of ingredients across the multiverse, made for countless possible product combinations. Excluding the mid- to high-tier materials she couldn’t handle yet, Jiang Cha still had more options than she could ever experiment with in one lifetime.
That’s why witch alchemists usually worked demand-first: figure out what you want to make, and then figure out how to make it.
Don’t worry about whether it’s doable. Just remember—alchemy is about limitless potential.

At worst, your product doesn’t sell. That’s just the cost of trial and error. It has nothing to do with whether alchemy itself works.
So, what was Jiang Cha planning?
“The standard stuff is already monopolized. Even custom-made goods are saturated by veteran artisans. That only leaves... folk remedies.”

She pulled out a piece of material resembling Hetian jade and lowered her head in thought. As a transmigrator, did she bring over any unique designs or ideas that could help her turn a profit?
Then it hit her—she had transmigrated from Earth to Earth.
If she’d gone into the past, she could’ve used future knowledge to become rich. Worst case, she could’ve been a professional plagiarist.
If it were a parallel world, she might’ve just used her looks and voice to become a streamer and never worry about food or rent.

But the Earth she came from was already in the 22nd century. A world where witches already existed.
Any line of work she could’ve pursued had long been claimed by witches.
The internet was now a “magicnet” where you could dive into full virtual reality. Travel services offered interdimensional tours. Live-streaming had been overtaken by witch idols who could cast real-time special effects on themselves.
So what could Jiang Cha do?

Only one thing—use her brain.
After much thought, the girl finally developed her first alchemical product.
“...Jiang Cha, what is this?”

Shi Lan’s eye twitched as she stared at the innocent-looking girl holding out a strange object for inspection.
“Love Link Prop,” Jiang Cha announced proudly.
“But you—”

“Senior, it’s the 22nd century. Let’s not be so conservative.”
Jiang Cha twirled the alchemical item in her hand. It was shaped like a ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) boomerang but clearly cylindrical. Her expression was serious.
“This is a symbol of true love! The ultimate emotional bonding tool for witches! It’s—”

“Denied!”
“Ehh——!”
“The Alchemy Society is a respectable organization! We don’t sell shameless stuff like this!”

“But you sell nipple covers!”
“Those are Band-Aids! And even if they were nipple covers, they’re legit witch-use products—unlike whatever this is!”
“Oh...”

Pouting with visible grievance, Jiang Cha turned and trudged back to her alchemy room.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to open a stall and make money. The problem was that this kind of product had zero technical complexity. Without the Alchemy Society’s ultra-cheap raw materials and large-scale distribution network, it’d be ripped off in a heartbeat.
Outside the academy, the cutthroat alchemy companies weren’t nearly as ethical. They didn’t shy away from shady products. If needed, they could spin up shell companies to sell anything without touching their main brand—and they wouldn’t even need new production lines.

Also, in a society where every witch had their own spiritual power, the impact of selling “love props” on her personal reputation was still unknown.
Of course, it also mattered that Jiang Cha did care about her reputation—and had no intention of personally hawking such items in a public market.
“If the path of depravity won’t work, then I’ll go the serious route…”

Truth was, she had a few legitimate ideas too. She just didn’t want to show her hand too early.
“Let’s see… clear spider eyes, white crystal ore, bat brain, and… ice crystal grass.”
Her goal: make a pair of glasses.

Even though most practical alchemy products had already been widely developed by witches, Jiang Cha believed you could still create something unique—if you came at it from a strange enough angle.
That was her strategy.
She had originally wanted to make a pair of autonomous moving tentacles, but even the “Love Link” item had been shot down instantly. Bringing out something even more questionable would only destroy her standing in the Alchemy Society.

So the glasses were her third choice.
“Glasses? What’s the effect?”
Shi Lan, who was already used to Jiang Cha’s chaotic antics, was visibly relieved that this invention wasn’t another strange item. At least, not on the surface.

In truth, the Alchemy Society didn’t expect first-year students to make anything groundbreaking. The evaluation office mostly existed to spark creativity.
“This?” Jiang Cha said, sounding bored as she fiddled with the plain, black-rimmed glasses.
“Channeling mana lets the user focus while reading and suppresses fatigue caused by infection. Duration: 30 minutes per charge, adjustable up to one hour. Any longer and, well, people might drop dead from overstudying, so the spell forcibly breaks down.”

“Wait... what?”
At first, Shi Lan hadn’t cared much—Jiang Cha had such a calm expression. But once she heard the glasses could suppress fatigue from infection, her eyes widened.
That was huge.

“This is the product summary. Here’s the ingredient list and cost estimate. I’ll add development potential later.”
Jiang Cha hopped down from her chair, tossed a piece of paper onto the table, and skipped over to the rest area to ask for a slice of strawberry cake.
Free of charge, of course.

Don’t be surprised that everything in the Alchemy Society was served by retro-style human models. Sure, puppets could bake—but pleasure-loving witches preferred the real thing!
If cakes and tea weren’t made by hand, they might as well order takeout. Witches wanted variety.
“Senior Qu Sinan, yes. We’ve got a new product that needs reviewing.”

On the other side of the room, Shi Lan wasn’t too shocked once she processed what Jiang Cha had made. She began the safety evaluation as per procedure.
A focus-enhancing pair of glasses had a lot of market potential in witch society.
Witches loved knowledge and learning—but not the mental strain that came from resisting infection. As a whole, they were a pleasure-driven species, and could be unbelievably lazy. Only those under fifty had consistent energy.

Still, older witches also liked learning. Thanks to rapid social development, lifelong learning had become the norm.
Most average witches studied just one hour a day—perfectly within the glasses’ one-hour effectiveness window.
With these glasses, they could study for an hour, go straight to bed, and enjoy improved sleep quality from the delayed fatigue.

The real kicker? The materials were cheap and easily mass-produced.
Sure, there were plenty of ways to replicate the glasses’ effect—potions, spells, advanced alchemy. Some even eliminated fatigue outright.
But those were all expensive.

And cheap, mass-producible gear always wins the industrial market.
“I really didn’t expect that after just a few days, I’d be sitting across from you discussing business.”
The girl across from Jiang Cha adjusted her top slightly—artificial padding making up for a lack of natural curves—and gave a small sigh.

Qu Sinan was the second witch Jiang Cha had met after waking up in this world.
She was also one of the few who fully understood Jiang Cha’s background.
This little girl in front of her had only started her witch life four days ago. In that time, she’d made waves in the Battle Club and caught her instructor’s attention—and now, here she was, eating cake while negotiating product shares.

“To be exact: four days, twelve hours, thirty-one minutes and fifty-eight seconds, Senior Sinan~”
Resting her cheek in one hand, Jiang Cha scooped a spoonful of cake with the other and held it out to Sinan. Her smile was playful, almost succubus-like.
Sinan hesitated, but eventually ate it. Then she watched as Jiang Cha scooped another bite for herself, gently licking it clean, savoring every bit of the cream.

“Looks like you’ve adjusted well to being a witch.”
Sinan’s face stayed neutral, but a trace of approval showed in her eyes.
She liked strong girls.

“So you two know each other?” Shi Lan blinked at the scene in confusion.
His expression suggested he wanted to say something—but hesitated.
Was the vice president... cheating on her girlfriend with a younger girl?

“Don’t look at me. If Helen were here, she’d go even further.”
Sinan shrugged casually.
“Senior Helen? I’m glad she’s not.”

Jiang Cha gave a soft, half-joking grumble. She was still a little scared of the senior who’d straddled her upon waking and treated her like computer hardware.
Teasing pretty girls was fun—but teasing Helen felt more like playing with a loaded gun.
At the moment, Jiang Cha was only interested in hearts, not bodies.

“You’ll meet Helen eventually. But for now, let’s focus.”
Sinan gave her a look—not angry, not serious, just... like someone calmly watching sparks catch from the other side of the river.