“Yam essence? That’s a real treasure! Anything with ‘essence’ in its name is no small fry!”
A voice in the crowd marveled.
Rumor had it this rare herb only grew on cloud-piercing cliffs, demanding harsh soil and climate.
Preserving it was trickier still—without a special copper case, its celestial essence would fade, leaving just an ordinary yam.
Most crucially, yam essence was a key ingredient in the Martial Bone Recipe, a medicinal meal that fortified sinews and bones, massively boosting physical strength.
The Martial Bone Recipe was a top-tier formu, priced at dozens of taels—some had offered over a hundred to secure it. It was a must for hunters aiming to ascend to martial cultivator status.
Here, in this modest street-side apothecary, the yam essence’s appearance caused a small uproar.
The middle-aged herbalist holding it straightened his hunched back, his face blooming with pride under the crowd’s praise.
Just then, a young man pushed through. “Make way—I’ve got something good too.”
The apothecary’s owner, engrossed in examining the yam essence, gnced at Jiang Heng. Seeing a lean youth, he dismissed him lightly.
“Hold on a moment, young sir…”
Muttering, he leisurely fetched a copper case and small shears, trimming debris from the yam essence. “Pity it was picked early. A few more years, and this could’ve fetched two or three hundred coppers.”
After fussing for a while, he finally remembered Jiang Heng, chuckling. “Sorry for the wait, d. What treasure you got for me?”
Jiang Heng said nothing, pulling a translucent cicada shell from his pocket and setting it on the counter.
“This is…”
The old man’s casual expression froze. His movements quickened as he stepped forward, delicately lifting the shell to inspect it.
“Such potent spiritual energy! This cicada shell’s a gem, a real gem. I’ll offer a hundred thirty coppers—how’s that, young brother?”
His bid was higher than Jiang Heng expected. He’d thought the shell would fetch only a hundred.
“How about this one?”
He pced a damp cloth bundle before the old man, who unwrapped it to reveal a cluster of pearl-like insect eggs.
“Pearl leech eggs, good size, though not perfectly preserved. Eighty coppers, sound fair?”
“And this…”
More?
Jiang Heng produced a small blue flower, wilted from time but striking with its rare azure petals.
The moment it appeared, the crowd hushed.
“A frostbloom! Born from icy spiritual energy condensing on peonies—a rare find. I’ll give three hundred fifty coppers!”
The apothecary boss’s excitement was palpable, his gnarled hands trembling.
Every eye turned to Jiang Heng.
“Let’s see… that’s five hundred sixty coppers total. Half a tael of silver! Hell, us loggers and porters sve for months to earn that!”
The cim was a touch exaggerated, but a typical logger made about two hundred coppers a month.
With meals costing a copper per bun and other expenses, they barely saved anything. Their lives were scarcely better than mountain dwellers’.
Jiang Heng had gathered these treasures in just a day or two—an earning speed worlds apart.
“Some rookie hunters don’t even pull in this much daily,” someone muttered, eyeing Jiang Heng, trying to guess his background.
But Tiger Pass Town, a bustling crossroads, saw too many new faces. No one could pce him.
“This kid—could he qualify as a hunter?” a voice whispered.
“Become a hunter? That’s the dream! County offices, the Mountain Patrol Division—they’d fight to recruit him. His future’d be limitless.”
The Mountain Patrol Division and county offices were the top destinations for hunters, though rumors said the two cshed fiercely over power and profit.
“No kidding. Every hunter’s got a bright future, loaded with perks. But how many can actually become one? A spirit beast corpse—think that’s a joke? Those creatures are cunning, spitting fire or water, strong as oxen. Easy to kill?”
“Exactly. Without a decade of medicinal meals to build brute strength, who’s got a shot at being a hunter?”
Jiang Heng’s haul sparked a buzz, the crowd chattering nonstop.
But his best treasures were still tucked away.
To avoid drawing too much attention, he’d sell those elsewhere.
Clutching a heavy coin pouch, Jiang Heng left the apothecary. Five hundred sixty coppers jingled in his hand, a sweet sound.
Making money feels damn good!
He sighed, but five hundred coppers was still too little.
The cheapest medicinal recipe cost five taels.
His most valuable item was the spring-bde saber—sharp and gleaming, worth two taels.
But it was ill-gotten, not something he could score daily. Plus, it was contraband.
Even guards only had usage rights; the saber was Great Qing property.
Selling it through legitimate channels was impossible.
The bck market was his only option.
After wandering, Jiang Heng spent five coppers to get bck market info from a street thug.
An hour ter, he left a secluded alley, his pack empty.
In its pce, a letter tucked in his inner pocket listed a string of herbs in bold, flowing script.
He’d spent six taels to buy a medicinal recipe: [Scorpion Celery Bone-Strengthening Broth].
The more Jiang Heng studied it, the more he loved it. I struck gold!
This broth could nourish bones and flesh, massively boosting strength. Its potency was rated martial-grade.
What was martial-grade?
Not an official rank, but an apothecary trade term. Simply put, even hunters could gain significant benefits from it daily.
It was on par with the Martial Bone Recipe, worth over a hundred taels.
Yet this recipe sold for just six taels, with no takers.
Why? Scorpion celery was a miasma-ced toxic herb. While the broth strengthened bones and power, it carried venomous side effects.
A slight overuse caused unbearable itching, skin and organ rot, and death within seven days.
It was a venomous recipe.
Some, on death’s door with no hope, might risk it for a few days.
But Jiang Heng was different.
With [Qi Devouring], miasma toxins couldn’t harm him—they were nourishment.
He could consume this recipe with zero side effects.
