Apothecary Giai

Quan Nha listened to Old Madam Lac and Hao Nhien for a while before asking softly,

“Have all the young men of the tribe already left today?”

Old Madam Lac looked at her and shook her head.

“Most of them. Some went to the nearby mines, some to the large fields, and some work at the transport stations. Those with slightly better cultivation are usually called into the army.”

“How long before they can come back?”

“I don’t know.”

Old Madam Lac lowered her gaze to the bowl in her hands.

“Some return after a month, some after three. And some leave and never come back at all.”

The tent fell quiet.

Hao Nhien did not ask further. On his very first day here, what he had heard was already enough to form part of the picture. Asking too many questions now would only make the people before him wary.

He set down his bowl.

“Old Madam Lac, we would like to stay here for two or three days. Is there somewhere in the tribe where we can lodge temporarily?”

She looked slightly surprised.

“You’re not in a hurry to enter the city?”

“We’ve been traveling for a long time, and my old injuries still aren’t entirely comfortable. I’d like to rest for a few days before continuing.”

Old Madam Lac nodded.

“The tribal chief has a house that used to be reserved for visiting merchants, but…”

She studied him for another moment.

“Do you truly know medicine?”

Hao Nhien laughed.

“If your grandson coughs less tonight, you can believe me tomorrow.”

Old Madam Lac laughed as well.

“Very well.”

The chief of the Lac Van Tribe was named Lac Thua, and he was younger than Hao Nhien had expected. He was only a little over fifty, thin and dark-skinned, with cultivation at Qi Condensation layer four. One shoulder sat slightly lower than the other, enough to suggest that he had once suffered a serious injury.

After listening to Old Madam Lac’s introduction, Lac Thua showed no excessive enthusiasm. He merely invited the two of them to sit, then looked Hao Nhien over from head to toe.

“Apothecary Giai?”

“I wouldn’t dare claim such a title. I only know a little about medicine.”

“And you’re also a merchant?”

“A little of that as well.”

Lac Thua looked at him.

“Apothecaries who know how to trade are rarely poor.”

Hao Nhien smiled.

“I never said I was poor.”

Lac Thua paused, then laughed.

“Straightforward. Easy to talk to.”

Hao Nhien cupped his hands.

“We only ask to stay for a few days. If necessary, we can pay in spirit stones.”

“No need. That house is empty anyway.”

Lac Thua paused before continuing,

“But if the two of you truly understand medicine, there are several sick people in the tribe.”

“I understand.”

Hao Nhien answered naturally.

“I won’t charge spirit stones. Anyone who comes for treatment can bring me a medicinal herb they recognize, or tell me where medicinal plants can be found nearby. That will be enough.”

Lac Thua immediately understood.

“You’re looking for sources of medicinal herbs?”

“I’m a merchant. If there is profit to be made, I’ll do business.”

That answer visibly eased the wariness on Lac Thua’s face.

A stranger suddenly appearing and treating people for free while asking for nothing in return would have been suspicious. A merchant using medical treatment to gather information about local medicinal resources, however, made far more sense.

“Very well.”

Lac Thua stood.

“I’ll take you to the house.”

The house stood near the edge of the oasis, a low wooden structure that had clearly seen better years. The roof leaned slightly, the door creaked whenever it moved, but at least the walls were enough to keep out the wind. Inside there was only a bed, a table, and an old cabinet whose hinges were nearly coming loose.

Lac Thua said,

“Merchant caravans used to stop here from time to time, but fewer people travel this route now. You two may use it.”

“Many thanks.”

After he left, Quan Nha looked around once before turning to Hao Nhien.

“Apothecary Giai.”

“What?”

She pointed at the broom propped in the corner.

Hao Nhien looked at the broom, then at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Clean.”

“You’re not going to?”

“You’re the head of the household.”

Hao Nhien laughed.

“Under these identities, I’m the husband.”

“Exactly.”

Quan Nha answered calmly.

“Which means you should do even more.”

Hao Nhien fell silent for a moment, then picked up the broom. Quan Nha turned her face away, though it was obvious that she was smiling.

As he swept, he said,

“I cultivate the Wind element. With a single thought, I could clear every speck of dust from this room.”

Quan Nha was wiping the table. Hearing that, she turned and looked at him.

Hao Nhien understood the look immediately and sighed.

“No using Wind unless necessary.”

“Then keep sweeping.”

After a while, the room finally looked cleaner.

Hao Nhien sat down and watched Quan Nha fold several old pieces of cloth.

“How does it feel?”

“Normal.”

“It feels a little strange to me.”

“At Hoa Van, you didn’t do everything yourself either.”

“True. Because there were people to do it.”

Quan Nha turned toward him.

“So this is good. At least now you know you’re lazy.”

Hao Nhien opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it.

After a moment, his expression grew serious.

“What do you think of this place?”

Quan Nha knew he was no longer asking about the house.

“Heavenly Eye controls the tribes more tightly than it appears, but it doesn’t rely entirely on violence.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

“That is what makes it worth paying attention to. There are no soldiers standing on every road, and they don’t need locks or chains. If one young man runs away, his parents have to shoulder the remaining obligation. If the entire family leaves, the whole tribe has to pay in their place.”

Quan Nha sat opposite him.

“So in the end, they keep one another from leaving.”

“Exactly.”

Hao Nhien looked through the doorway.

“I used to think Heavenly Eye mainly relied on force to suppress people, but it seems the system is more complicated than that.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“For now, nothing.”

Quan Nha looked at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

She nodded slightly.

“Then for the moment, just treat the sick.”

“That works.”

Hao Nhien leaned back on the bed, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

Old Madam Lac’s words repeated themselves in his mind.

If they lacked people, they paid with minerals. If they lacked minerals, they paid with medicinal herbs. If even the herbs were insufficient, then in the end, they still had to make up the difference with people.

It was a very simple system.

So simple that it was frightening.

By late afternoon, word had spread through the tribe that someone knew how to treat illness, but there was no crowd packed outside the door. Lac Thua deliberately sent people over in small groups, avoiding both noise and the possibility of making the two new guests uncomfortable.

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The first patient was a man over sixty who had suffered from knee pain for years. Hao Nhien examined him, used needles to open several acupoints, then gave him a packet of herbs to soak his feet in and told him to avoid carrying heavy loads for the next few days.

The second was a child with a fever.

Hao Nhien examined the child carefully and confirmed that it was nothing dangerous before preparing a simple medicinal decoction. Before allowing the mother to leave with her child, he reminded her,

“If the fever is still high after midnight, bring the child back.”

Throughout the afternoon, he saw several more cases: aching backs from carrying water, numb legs from standing too long, children with dry skin from lack of water, and coughs caused by breathing too much sand. Most were not serious illnesses at all, but problems accumulated over years of harsh living conditions and prolonged labor.

Everyone who came brought something with them.

A handful of medicinal herbs, a few tubers, and sometimes nothing more than several branches they thought might be useful as medicine.

Hao Nhien did not keep everything. He only retained what was useful, then carefully asked where it grew, when it was harvested, how much could be gathered, who bought it, and at what price.

By the seventh patient, one plant called Sa Diep caught his attention.

It was an extremely common medicinal herb of little value, used only as a supplementary ingredient in several pills for Qi Condensation cultivators. The villagers said it grew everywhere around the oasis. Almost no one cultivated it systematically, and Heavenly Eye buyers only came occasionally, offering an extremely low price.

Hao Nhien lifted a branch and examined it.

Long roots.

Highly resistant to drought.

It grew in sandy soil with almost no care.

It was not precious.

Yet precisely because it was not precious, few people paid attention to it.

He said nothing for the moment and simply continued asking questions.

By evening, several bundles of herbs, a basket of tubers, two coarse flatbreads, and three small yellow flowers left by a child had accumulated outside the little house.

Quan Nha picked up the three flowers.

“These aren’t medicinal herbs.”

Hao Nhien looked over and smiled.

“Perhaps that was the consultation fee.”

“Three flowers?”

“I think it’s enough.”

Quan Nha smiled softly.

Hao Nhien found a small vase, poured in a little water, placed the flowers inside, and set them on the table.

Only after the last patient had left did Quan Nha ask,

“What did you discover?”

Hao Nhien looked at the remaining packets of herbs.

“Many of the people who came today weren’t sick in the usual sense.”

Quan Nha said nothing.

He continued,

“Their vitality is weak because they don’t eat enough. Their bodies are dry because they lack water. Their backs hurt because they work too hard, and they cough because of the sand. I can give them medicine or pills, but most of it will only make them feel better for a few days.”

Hao Nhien picked up a low-grade pill, studied it for a moment, then set it down again.

“Pills can cure illness, but they cannot cure an empty stomach.”

The room grew quiet.

Outside, the voices of children could still occasionally be heard.

Quan Nha stepped outside, and Hao Nhien followed her to sit on the wooden step.

The setting sun painted the entire oasis a faint red. A mother was calling her child home to eat, while a little farther away, Old Madam Lac held the bowl of medicine Hao Nhien had given her that morning. Tieu Thach sat beside her, still thin, but clearly coughing much less.

Quan Nha said softly,

“It’s peaceful.”

Hao Nhien looked at her.

“You’re not used to it?”

“Not exactly. It’s just…”

She looked at the low tents surrounding the lake.

“I like it.”

Hao Nhien was silent for a moment.

“Tieu Lan would probably like it too.”

Quan Nha turned toward him.

He only nodded lightly.

“Yes.”

Hao Nhien’s consciousness slipped into the Cosmic Ark.

Tieu Lan was still asleep amid the stable Wood spiritual qi.

He did not speak aloud, only whispered inwardly,

Wait for me a little longer.

That night, Hao Nhien visited Lac Thua with a bottle of ordinary wine he had bought in Thanh Van City.

The moment Lac Thua saw the bottle, he laughed more openly than before.

“This is good stuff.”

“I thought the chief didn’t drink.”

“A poor tribe doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy wine.”

The two sat down.

Hao Nhien did not waste words.

“I want to ask a few things.”

Lac Thua looked at him.

“About Heavenly Eye City?”

“About this place.”

The answer surprised him slightly.

Hao Nhien first asked when the tribe’s obligations were collected. Lac Thua explained that there was no fixed date, though it was usually around once every half month. After another cup of wine, Hao Nhien moved on to asking about entering and leaving the city.

People with local registration only needed to pay a fee to pass through the gates. Merchants from outside the region were also allowed in, while apothecaries found entry even easier.

Hao Nhien immediately took notice.

“Why?”

Lac Thua lowered his voice.

“They’ve been needing pills lately.”

“Preparing for war?”

Lac Thua glanced around even though no one else was inside the tent.

“Probably. More young people are being called away, mineral quotas have risen, medicinal herb quotas have risen, and military levies have increased too.”

Hao Nhien did not ask who they were preparing to fight.

Lac Thua almost certainly did not know.

Instead, he turned the conversation toward Sa Diep.

“Is there really that much of it around here?”

“A great deal, but it isn’t worth much.”

“Does anyone cultivate it?”

Lac Thua laughed.

“With what water would we irrigate medicinal weeds?”

He pointed north.

“Not just around the lake. Travel a few li farther and you’ll find it wherever the ground dips slightly lower. It hardly needs any care. Only in the worst drought years does much of it die.”

“What is the current price?”

Lac Thua raised two fingers.

“Twenty jin for one low-grade spirit stone.”

Hao Nhien frowned slightly.

“That low?”

“It is only a low-level medicinal herb, and it’s easy to gather. Whatever price they offer is the price we sell at.”

Hao Nhien merely murmured in acknowledgment.

Sa Diep truly was not valuable. In Thanh Van City, it would not even merit its own place on a shop counter. But Hao Nhien had processed a great many medicinal ingredients together with Tieu Lan, so he knew very well that these seemingly insignificant supplementary herbs appeared repeatedly in low-level pill formulas.

He studied the branch of Sa Diep for a moment.

“Are there other plants like this?”

Lac Thua thought for a while.

“There is Xich Can, Kho Diep, and another purple flower the people from the Medicine Pavilion once asked to buy, but I’ve forgotten its name.”

“Can you have someone familiar with this area take me around tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

Lac Thua looked at him.

“Apothecary Giai, are you truly planning to buy medicinal herbs?”

“Possibly. I want to inspect them first. If there is profit, I’ll buy.”

That answer clearly made more sense to Lac Thua.

Hao Nhien asked another question.

“What does the tribe currently have to submit?”

Lac Thua looked at him and laughed.

“Today you ask about medicinal herbs, and now you ask about taxes. You really are a curious merchant.”

Hao Nhien smiled as well.

“I just arrived. I want to understand the place where I may be doing business.”

Lac Thua was silent for several breaths before answering.

“Grain, minerals, medicinal herbs, and people. Heavenly Eye Hall sets an overall quota each year, then the stations responsible for each district divide it among the tribes. Tribes with mines submit more minerals, those with fields submit grain, and those with medicinal herbs submit herbs. If none of those are enough, then people make up the difference.”

Hao Nhien looked at him.

“What does Lac Van have?”

Lac Thua smiled bitterly.

“Poor soil, little water, and no mines inside our territory. The fields don’t produce enough to feed everyone, and most of our medicinal herbs are cheap.”

He gestured outside.

“So the easiest thing for us to submit is people.”

The tent fell silent.

Hao Nhien did not need to ask further.

He now understood all too clearly why Lac Van’s young people had to work in mines, serve in military levies, or labor at transport stations. It was not that this place had no resources at all. What they possessed simply carried too little value under the system used to calculate their obligations.

If the value of what they produced could change, perhaps their circumstances could change with it.

Hao Nhien’s gaze fell once more on the branch of Sa Diep.

A faint path had begun to appear before him, though he still said nothing.

A single herb could not change an entire tribe.

For medicinal ingredients to have value, they needed a stable market. For buyers to pay a worthwhile price, those ingredients had to become part of something they genuinely needed.

And Heavenly Eye’s greatest need at present was something Hao Nhien had already seen throughout nearly two months of travel.

It was a system continuously accumulating strength.

He did not yet know whom they were preparing to face, much less what lay behind Heavenly Eye Hall. But if he wanted to move deeper into this system, relying only on a mask and a false identity would be far too crude.

Hao Nhien stood.

“Thank you.”

Lac Thua looked at him.

“You’re staying tomorrow as well?”

“Yes.”

“Still not entering the city?”

“There’s no hurry.”

Hao Nhien had just reached the entrance when Lac Thua suddenly called,

“Apothecary Giai.”

He turned back.

Lac Thua held his wine cup as the firelight flickered softly between them.

“You ask questions unlike a man who only wants to buy medicinal herbs.”

Hao Nhien did not answer.

After a moment, Lac Thua emptied his cup and set it down.

“But people in the tribe will sleep a little easier tonight, so I won’t ask either.”

Hao Nhien looked at him, then cupped his hands.

“Thank you.”

When he returned to the little house, Quan Nha was still awake.

All the medicinal herbs the villagers had brought that day had been sorted on the table before her into roots, leaves, flowers, and seeds. Beside them lay a sheet of paper recording where each plant grew, its estimated yield, and what the villagers had said about it.

As soon as Hao Nhien entered, she looked up.

“How did it go?”

He placed the branch of Sa Diep in front of her.

“Lac Van has no mines, its fields cannot produce enough food, and the medicinal herbs they currently gather are worth too little. That means people are the easiest thing they have to use to make up their obligations.”

Quan Nha looked at the Sa Diep.

“You want to make the herbs more valuable?”

“It isn’t me who makes them valuable.”

Hao Nhien sat down.

“I only need to find the right buyer.”

She was silent for a moment.

“Heavenly Eye.”

“Exactly.”

Hao Nhien picked up the Sa Diep.

“We’ve traveled for nearly two months. How many medicinal supply caravans have you seen?”

“A great many.”

“And pills?”

“Quite a few as well, though most were of ordinary quality.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

That was precisely what he had noticed earlier.

The number of low-level cultivators throughout Heavenly Eye territory was far greater than in many other regions, which meant demand for pills was correspondingly higher. A system containing thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands, of cultivators did not merely need a few high-grade pills reserved for geniuses.

It needed quantity.

Qi-Vitality Pills.

Body Strengthening Pills.

Qi Recovery Pills.

Meridian Nourishing Pills.

Low-level pills that had to be consumed constantly were the true bottomless pit.

Quan Nha watched him for a moment.

“You’re planning to trade pills again?”

Hao Nhien laughed.

“I’ve done it before.”

“With Tieu Lan?”

The smile on his face slowed slightly.

“Yes.”

Hao Nhien looked at the bundles of herbs on the table.

“Back then, I only thought that if I could refine something, I could sell it. Now, perhaps pills can be used to exchange for something else.”

“Information?”

“Information, identity, connections.”

He looked through the doorway.

The Lac Van Tribe had already sunk into darkness, with only a few scattered oil lamps still burning.

“And if things go well, perhaps they can also be exchanged for another choice for the people here.”

Quan Nha did not answer immediately.

She picked up the branch of Sa Diep.

“But Sa Diep itself isn’t worth much.”

“Correct.”

“Then what are you planning to sell?”

Hao Nhien smiled.

“I’m not selling Sa Diep. I’m selling something that needs Sa Diep.”

Quan Nha’s eyes shifted slightly.

“Pills.”

“Yes.”

Hao Nhien took a jade vial from his storage ring and removed the stopper.

A faint medicinal fragrance immediately spread through the room.

Inside were five mid-grade pills. Their grade was not particularly high, but compared with the market the two of them had observed along the way, their quality was already enough to stand out.

Quan Nha studied them for a moment.

“You want to use these to knock on the door?”

“No need to knock.”

Hao Nhien set the jade vial down.

“I only need the people inside to know there is something outside that they want.”

Quan Nha smiled softly.

“And then they open the door themselves?”

“Hopefully.”

“And if they don’t?”

“We find another door.”

Quan Nha laughed.

Hao Nhien laughed with her, though the plan in his mind had already become much clearer.

The two of them had originally come here only to find a way deeper into Heavenly Eye. Lanh Tuyet had given them masks, identities, and a method to blur their auras, but those things were only enough to pass the first layer of inspection.

If they wanted to remain inside for any length of time, they needed a convincing reason.

Giai Nhien could not remain forever as nothing more than a name written on an identity card.

He had to become someone who possessed real value to the people around him.

Hao Nhien lightly tapped a finger against the table.

“Tomorrow I want to inspect the medicinal herbs around here.”

“And after that?”

“We enter the city.”

Quan Nha looked at him.

“Heavenly Eye City?”

“Yes.”

Hao Nhien turned his gaze west.

It was only half a day away by flying sword.

After nearly two months, they had finally reached the edge of the true gate.

The next morning, Lac Thua summoned a man of around forty named Lac Tam to guide them.

His cultivation was only at Qi Condensation layer three, but he had lived in this region all his life. He knew where groundwater could be found beneath the sand, where Sa Diep grew thickest, which roots had to be dug in winter, and which flowers bloomed only after rain.

Hao Nhien did not examine only the plants.

He also studied the soil, water sources, distances, and the number of people needed to harvest them.

After nearly half a day, the results were better than he had expected.

Sa Diep was the most abundant, but it was not the only useful herb.

Xich Can grew in clusters at the foot of several rocky ridges.

Kho Diep was rarer but more valuable.

As for the purple flower whose name Lac Thua had forgotten, Hao Nhien recognized it as Tu Sa Hoa, a common medicinal ingredient often used in hemostatic medicines for low-level cultivators.

He dug up one plant, examined its root system, then asked,

“Is the price stable?”

Lac Tam shook his head.

“Sometimes it’s high. Sometimes it isn’t even worth the effort of gathering.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

The problem was not the herb.

It was the market.

If there were a stable buyer, the people of the tribe would naturally learn what to gather and how to allocate their labor.

That afternoon, Hao Nhien treated several more patients.

Near evening, Tieu Thach came running over.

The boy had been coughing constantly the day before. Today his complexion was still slightly yellow, but his energy was clearly much better. He held both hands out, revealing a handful of Sa Diep.

“Uncle Giai!”

Hao Nhien looked at him.

“What is this?”

“For you.”

“I only asked people to bring medicinal herbs when they came for treatment.”

“But I’m already done being treated.”

“Then why did you bring these?”

Tieu Thach thought seriously for a moment before answering,

“Because you like this.”

Hao Nhien laughed.

He accepted the small bundle.

“All right, then I’ll buy it.”

The boy immediately shook his head.

“Not for sale.”

“Then I’ll trade you for it.”

Hao Nhien took out a piece of flatbread.

Tieu Thach stared at it for a long time. He clearly wanted it, but in the end he still shook his head.

“Grandmother said I’m not allowed to take anything else.”

Hao Nhien paused, then put the bread away.

“Then I’ll simply accept it.”

Tieu Thach immediately broke into a grin and ran off.

Hao Nhien looked at the small bundle of Sa Diep in his hand.

Beside him, Quan Nha called softly,

“Uncle Giai.”

Hao Nhien gave her a sideways look.

“Don’t.”

The corners of Quan Nha’s lips curved upward.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Hao Nhien did not answer.

But as he looked at the handful of Sa Diep in his hand, he could not stop himself from smiling either.