“As long as you tell me the truth, I’ll be satisfied,” Jn Huang said. “Even the Greenwind Pavilion refuses to tell me.
“It’s because they’ve been paid off by the highest authority in the city,” the saleswoman said, picking up the vial, eyeing it. She opened the lid and breathed in the pleasant aroma it emanated.
“The Alchemists Association?” Jin Huang asked.
“Heavens, no,” she said. “The Evergreen Alchemists Association is just a pawn like all the others. Like most major alchemy-related businesses, they are majority-owned by the Lion Financial Group. Every single legitimate company that sells pills in town is their puppet. The same applies to the alchemical ingredient suppliers, except for those who distribute ingredients found by adventurers in the Evergreen Battlefield. Those are sold through auction at exaggerated prices. The bids are manipulated to keep overall prices high, and I’m sure a smart man like you can figure out who owns the auction houses.”
Jin Huang frowned. “Why hasn’t anyone started a competing business?”
“You didn’t think our spiel about public safety was just for show, did you?” the woman scoffed. By now, her cautious demeanor had all but evaporated. “The Lion Financial Group is naturally aware of the threat to their monopoly. As a result, they’ve paid off royals, nobles, and government officials. Under the veneer of public safety, they’ve passed extensive regulations on pill commerce. They claim that only certified agents should buy or sell pills because the alternative is low pill quality, cases of alchemical poisoning, fraud, and occasionally, death. If only certified agents are qualified to buy from alchemists, pill quality can be assured.”
“I take it the evaluation process is very stringent…” Jin Huang said. He massaged his temple in frustration.
“If you call the outright sham of a process stringent, then yes,” the woman said mockingly. “The same regulations apply to the buying and selling of herbs, and even the stringent safety codes for alchemical workshops. These regulations have leaked over to the other professions, courtesy of those with interests in geomancy, but fortunately, they only affect workshop standards. Spirit doctors have always been very territorial, so they’ve made no progress there, and it’s been difficult to make a case that regulating spiritual blacksmithing would protect the public. Something about chunks of metal not being easy to explode.”
“So that’s why I couldn’t buy alchemical ingredients at a lower price,” Jin Huang said, the situation becoming ever clearer. “Herb dispensaries can only offer me better-quality medicinal ingredients, but not discounts, when I buy in bulk.”
“That’s right,” the woman said. “But the management and staff are helpless to fight against it. Since all the shops are owned by the Lion Financial Group, it’s difficult to find a high-paying job without being affiliated with them. Take myself, for example. Due to my low cultivation base, I can only be bullied and paid low wages.”
“Then you should take the meridian-cleansing pill as soon as possible,” Jin Huang said. “I’ll have to trouble you to draft a bill of sale for the rest.”
“It would be my honor,” the woman said. She quickly drafted the standard paperwork and fetched his payment. He noticed it was on the high end, even compared to what he’d gotten at the Alchemists Association. “I’ll get a scolding for offering you such a high price, but that’s nothing new. Listen, before you leave, I’d like to advise you against selling pills in public. It’s a common mistake among new alchemists, and I’d hate for a nice guy like you to end up in prison and be forced to craft pills to pay your debt to society.”
“Thank you so much for the timely advice,” Jin Huang said, sweating bullets. This had been his next course of action.
“Now, don’t quote me on this, but I’ve heard from some acquaintances that a man called Brother Hei frequents the slums,” she said. “He’s a very rich man that likes buying all sorts of things. He’s even been known to buy alchemical goods outside of proper channels to resell them at lower than market price. It’s a rotten, illegal business, mind you. I doubt an honest man like yourself would want anything to do with it.”
“I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare,” Jin Huang said, grinning. “Many thanks for your advice on the city rules. If it wasn’t for you, I’d likely be in jail this time tomorrow.” He gave the lady a short bow before walking out of the shop. He didn’t head over to the slums.
Not yet.
Chapter 15
Jin Huang dusted fresh residue off his robes as he examined his latest batch of medicinal pills. The gleaming green pills with gold seals pulsed with rich vital energy; any one of them would be able to regenerate an entire arm should the need arise. Not that he was planning on losing an arm, but sometimes you took what life threw at you.
Out of five potential pills, only three had succeeded. As was his habit, he mulled over the refinement process. His actions began to replay in his mind like a recording. As the critic, he carefully picked out any mistakes in his performance.
I added slightly too much ailroot essence, reducing the effectiveness of the pill batch by five percent, he thought. Then I made three subsequent mistakes that led to the destabilization of a portion of the pill base. The steps after that were executed perfectly, which is why I was able to salvage three gold-seal pills.
After spotting the crux, he reviewed his memories one final time before purging them from his mind. He kept the important bits and discarded the rest. The key to a good memory wasn’t remembering everything worthwhile, but rather forgetting everything that wasn’t.
After finishing his review session, Jin Huang looked at the clock on the wall. Only ten minutes remained until his lease expired. He quickly cleaned the cauldrons and disabled the arrays. He swept up whatever soot he could find before exiting the chamber and retrieving the silver card that unlocked it. Then he walked down two flights of stairs before arriving at the lobby, where he was greeted by the usual attendant.
“How may I help you, Master Jin?” the attendant said.
Jin Huang swept a large pile of pill bottles onto the desk. Without exception, each pill featured a gold-pill seal, meaning that its impurities were minimal and that it was compatible with most cultivators.
“Ah, another batch,” the attendant said. “Let’s not play these games we’ve been playing in the past. I offer you full price for everything.”
“Then I’ll have to trouble you with this large transaction,” Jin Huang said, adding another set of pill bottles to the table. They also had gold seals, and if he didn’t need the money urgently, he wouldn’t have sold them. Every loss of potential revenue felt like losing flesh to the ambitious young man.
“Will you be requiring any ingredients? Or a room, perhaps?” the attendant asked as he placed the spirit stones on the desk.
“Perhaps,” Jin Huang said. “I’ll be secluding myself in the city for some time. I’ll see you when I get back.”
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, he headed to the library. As usual, the aged alchemist in attendance greeted him with a smile.
“It’s nice to see a kind face after so long,” Elder Shi said. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been all right, save for getting raked over the coals for the past month,” Jin Huang said bitterly.
The man nodded knowingly. “It’s a pity they never listened to me. The Evergreen Alchemists Association wasn’t like this before it sold its controlling shares to the Lion Financial Group. We used to train and retain the best. Now, most of them leave for better opportunities. The smart ones go to Haijing City, while less-ambitious alchemists move to other countries, where they received the respect they deserve.”
“Let’s not talk about unhappy things today,” Jin Huang said. “I’d like to purchase a three-day library pass.”
“I’ll give it to you for the minimum price—thirty high-grade spirit stones,” the man said, summoning a card.
Jin Huang bowed to the man in thanks. He knew for a fact that most studen
ts paid at least fifty percent more than he did.
“I found an interesting shelf the other day,” Jin Huang said. “I thought I’d go there and finish reading. Have you ever read any of the books on shelf 5402?”
“Shelf 5402 doesn’t exist,” the librarian said pleasantly. “It’s a numerical error made when the library was founded, and no one ever bothered to fix it.”
Jin Huang frowned. Just as he was about to say more on the subject, the librarian cut him off.
“I said, it doesn’t exist,” he said sternly. “But if you want to go read imaginary books, go right ahead. I won’t stop you.”
Jin Huang finally took the heavy hinting. It wasn’t long before he found the same mysterious shelf. The book titles had changed since last time, but they were just as inconspicuous as ever. Jin Huang leafed through a few books to confirm the ones he’d already read were still there before he began leafing through the remainder. He read through many interesting titles, like A History of the Seven Heavens, The Fall, and On the Nature of Devils and Their Weaknesses.
That last one was rather interesting; not only did it include descriptions of the seven types of devils, but it also listed their strengths as well as many ways to take advantage of their predominant sin characteristics. For example, it illustrated a case study where a spirit chef poisoned seemingly delicious dishes to incapacitate gluttony devils. In another one, a cultivator took advantage of a sloth devil’s indolence and laid traps all over his territory. By the time he deigned to do anything about it, it was too late.
A day and a half passed by without him noticing. Just as mental fatigue was beginning to set in, he noticed a title that immediately caught his interest. Twin Pentagrams Poison Art, he thought.
Intrigued, he opened the book. There, he saw that a note had been carefully added before the introduction.
This book was hidden on Shelf 5402 shortly after the Third Crusade of Light to preserve the knowledge of poison-making in the north. Since the crusade, poison masters have become universally reviled in the north, shunned especially by the Alchemists Association and the Spirit Doctor Association. Any and all efforts to study poison have revolved around crafting antidotes and fighting the poison masters in the south.
While it’s true that many poison masters use despicable means such as corpse harvesting and sin poisons, it’s important to remember that alchemy can also be used for nefarious purposes. The south was able to nurture strong cultivators through conventional alchemy, and it was able to better arm them through advances in traditional blacksmithing. Over ninety-five percent of martial arts are the same north and south of the border.
As the seventh chief librarian of the Evergreen Alchemists Association, I’ve concluded that poison concoction isn’t evil in and of itself. Instead of banning the subject, it is better to evaluate the nature of the wielder. I sincerely hope that a virtuous man can find this knowledge and make use of it.
Jing Huang’s curiosity was piqued. He’d always been looking for a turning point in his alchemy, and this book might be just what he needed to break through to the next level. Advancing through the ranks of master alchemist wasn’t the be-all and end-all; rather, there was something to be said for potency of pills, success rate, and sheer variety of pills.
The last factor was of particular importance, as magic-grade pill formulas were both atrociously expensive and carefully guarded secrets. If he could research his own pill formulas, not only could he make unique pills, but he could even sell the formulas. His money worries would be a thing of the past.
Having made up his mind, Jin Huang set himself to the tasks of poring through the first of ten books on the shelf. Not only did it outline evil poison-refining means, but it also touched on a concept called virtuous poisons. Some of them were poisons that only affected sinful creatures or devils, while others were more like truth serums that enforced oaths. Some of poisons even served as antidotes, while others allowed a cultivator to temporarily break through their limits. They were a lot like limit-breaking pills, but their side effects were more severe. It was clear the alchemists had kept what they wanted and tossed out the rest.
Excited, he continued reading for another two days. One of the books detailed all methods of fighting poison with poison, while another detailed fighting illness with poison.
By the end of the third day, Jin Huang finally couldn’t take the mental fatigue any longer. While he’d only finished the first five books in the ten-book series, he felt that his alchemical skill had progressed by leaps and bounds. It wasn’t long before he felt a familiar repelling force urging him to leave the library as soon as possible.
“Next time,” he said, looking at the five remaining books. “Next time.”
As he walked out of the library, he saw the old librarian, who nodded at him with a light smile as he left. This time, Jin Huang noticed something on the man’s desk. It was a violet plaque affixed with a name and title: Shi Ren, Seventh Chief Librarian of the Evergreen Alchemists Association.
Chapter 16
Jin Huang’s heart bled as he walked out from an alchemists supply shop. He’d just spent 3,000 high-grade spirit stones on a least-grade magic-pill furnace, a flame-guiding formation, and a ventilation formation. Though he’d ideally wanted to purchase a better cauldron to increase his success rate, this was all he could afford for now. Alchemy literally burned through money at a frightening rate; an adequate working capital was just as necessary as the static equipment.
Having procured the necessary hardware, Jin Huang made his way over to the herb market. He passed by many stalls selling fresh herbs from the fields. He purchased 1,000 high-grade spirit stones or so in medicinal ingredients. While he didn’t get a discount, the freshness and quality in the ingredients would undoubtedly be a huge boon for his crafting success.
After procuring herbs, Jin Huang left the building and headed over to a nearby real-estate office. Much of what he’d seen was confirmed—the savings that could be obtained there were marginal. Each available workshop cost 290 high-grade spirit stones per month, including least-grade equipment, which was only ten high-grade stones cheaper than the Alchemists Association. Furthermore, the price increased substantially based on the grade of alchemist.
Depressed, Jin Huang could only wander the streets to manually search for a better deal. Perhaps a lone workshop renter would want to share space for reduced rent. He wandered from building to building, sparing not even smithies in the process. Wherever he went, however, the answer was still the same—a minimum price of 250 high-grade spirit stones per month if you supplied your own equipment. Even then, not many such rooms were available.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford the rent; it was the principle behind it. Jin Huang was a talent among talents, and he loathed being oppressed like this.
Should I just go back to Quicksilver City? He wondered. Should I have listened to Second Brother and found a more economical place to practice alchemy with less pressure?
No, he was unwilling to admit defeat. Not to these people. Not here.
As Jin Huang’s thoughts continued on their downward spiral, he noticed that he’d arrived in the slums. He wandered aimlessly, looking at the pawn shops and unsavory institutions with disdain. Yet who was he to judge them? Just like he was looking for a better deal, they too were looking to improve their lot in life. Whether a talented scholar or oppressed manual laborer, life was a struggle. What mattered was a man’s willingness to fight against oppression and take back what belonged to them.
Deep in thought, Jin Huang barely noticed a man in a black cloak walking up beside him. I hear you’re looking for a workshop? The man sent mentally.
Jin Huang was startled but quickly recovered.
What is your price? He asked.
Follow me, the man sent.
Intrigued, Jing Huang followed. They wandered through dozens of alleyways, making their way through some of the poorest areas in the city. Mortal adults wandered the streets in this city wher
e cultivators thrived. Street urchins played in the streets; they begged the cloaked man for food, but they were shooed off by the man’s gentle but firm hand.
Before long, they arrived at a rundown business. A tattered sign with the words Bai’s Artificery hung over the door. The man pushed open the door brusquely, leading Jin Huang into a room with a startled man who looked to be in his thirties. He glanced up briefly before looking back to his desk, where an intricate contraption lay, waiting for tiny pieces to be installed with miniature soul-alloy tweezers. After a few quick movements, the gadget glowed with runic light and wound up into a tiny ball. The man stowed the ball before greeting the dark-robed man.
“Can I help you, Brother Hei?” the man asked.
Jin Huang’s eyes narrowed at the name drop. Was this the same Brother Hei who bought and sold pills on the black market?
“Brother Bai, I’ve found you a colleague at long last,” Brother Hei said. “It took us some time, but someone finally came knocking. With him sharing your space, you’ll both only have to pay fifty high-grade stones per month each. It’s a steal!”
“I see,” the artificer said. “It’s your workshop, and you can rent it as you please.”
“Don’t be that way,” the man said, pulling back his hood. His head was bald, which was unusual in the north. Jin Huang could see faint red tattoos sneaking up from beneath his cultivation robes and ending just below his chin. “The boss has been worried about you getting lonely. Besides, look at how honest he looks. You couldn’t find a better co-renter.” Then he looked to Jin Huang. “What do you think?”
“Isn’t fifty a bit low?” Jin Huang asked uncertainly.
“What, you’re going to complain about the price being too low?” the man said, shocked. “But my friend, even if you asked to pay more, I wouldn’t take it. We treat our renters like family, unlike the Lion Financial Group, who picks everyone’s pocket twelve times before they can turn a profit.”
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