Han had made his request clear from the start.


    He was after cultivation pills for the Viscera and Bone Forging Realms, so naturally, the materials he’d prepared were tailored to those levels.


    A single Mysterious Dragon Fruit, if traded only for supplementary herbs for Viscera Realm pills, would be a raw deal—after all, it was two tiers above that. But if the pavilion master, Mu Dongshan, also covered the missing materials for Bone Forging or even Day Roaming pills, the math got fuzzier.


    Plus, hiring an alchemist to fire up their furnace wasn’t free. Some cutthroat ones charged fees that rivaled the value of the finished pills.


    One Manifestation-grade ingredient to cover both the refining and free materials? That wasn’t quite enough.


    “Master, no way—this Mysterious Dragon Fruit isn’t worth all that!” Han protested, pushing back.


    The old man’s sudden enthusiasm threw him off. More importantly, who does a losing deal?


    “Listen, my friend, I won’t sugarcoat it,” Mu Dongshan said with a sigh. “This batch of pills is my life’s work—years of effort riding on it. A Manifestation pill takes me at least a decade to prep for.”


    “If it fails, all that time and energy goes down the drain. The cost is too steep.”


    “I’ve already botched two Mysterious Snake Fruits, and that taught me something. Unless you’re a genius at the peak of your craft, refining this pill with a Snake Fruit is a long shot. Even if I got another, I’d probably still fail.”


    “This Mysterious Dragon Fruit isn’t just a Manifestation herb to me—it’s the key to pulling this off.”


    Han got it now. Normally, the Dragon Fruit was just a high-grade herb, but right now, to Mu Dongshan, it was worth an entire batch of Manifestation Treasure Pills—plus decades of blood, sweat, and tears.


    Compared to that, tossing in some extra materials for Han was pocket change. If he nailed this batch, he’d recoup any loss and then some—big time.


    “Don’t turn me down, my friend,” Mu Dongshan said, deadly serious. “I, Mu Dongshan, have lived my life upright and honest. If you refuse, it’ll weigh on me. My mind’ll waver, and this batch’ll be toast.”


    With the man putting it like that, what could Han do?


    He accepted, of course.


    A win-win all around—both sides walking away happy.


    For Han, trading one herb for a haul like this was a jackpot.


    For Mu Dongshan, snagging a real shot at refining his Manifestation Treasure Pills? He couldn’t lose either.


    It was a grand slam for both.


    “How long till you’re done, Master Mu?” Han asked.


    “Today—tomorrow at the latest,” Mu Dongshan replied, buzzing with energy. “Everything else is set—just needed this herb. With the Dragon Fruit, I’ve got this in the bag!”


    That worked. A day or two was nothing—Han could wait.


    He handed over the Mysterious Dragon Fruit with a grin. “Looking forward to your good news, Master Mu.”


    “Hahaha! This treasure won’t go to waste, my friend—I promise you that!” Mu Dongshan couldn’t hide his glee. “Anything you need, just tell my granddaughter. I’ll fill her in. She’s an alchemist too—spotting pills and herbs? No problem.”


    “Once I’m done—win or lose—I’ll start your batch right away!”


    With that, Mu Dongshan hustled out to find Mu Wan.


    Bai Ruoyue sidled up to Han and whispered, “Little Junior Brother, this master’s a straight shooter, huh?”


    “No kidding—he’s the real deal,” Han nodded.


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    Soon, Mu Dongshan returned with Mu Wan. After some polite chit-chat, he dashed off to refine his pills, barely containing his excitement.


    Mu Wan eyed Han and Bai Ruoyue curiously. “What materials do you need?”


    “Yellow Lotus Essence…” Han rattled off a list.


    Mu Wan nodded or shook her head as he went. “Most of those we’ve got, I think. A few I’m not sure about.”


    She perked up, surprised. “I know these—Yellow Lotus Essence is for Lotus Heart Pills, good for tempering the heart.”


    “And Summer Bloom… these are all for cultivation pills.”


    “But some of these? I’ve never seen Grandpa use them. Do they work for that too?”


    Her eyes lit up as a hunch clicked. “You’ve got some unique recipes, don’t you?”


    “Picked up a few by chance,” Han admitted openly.


    No point hiding it—he’d have to show the recipes to Mu Dongshan later anyway. No herbs without a blueprint? Good luck refining anything.


    Across Tianyue County and the surrounding regions, auxiliary cultivation pills for each realm were mostly the same old handful.


    The ones Han got from the Black-and-White Tower? The Waning Moon Pavilion only lacked the Eleven Heavenly God Pill. And here, just one pill was new to Han’s collection.


    The Three Yin Mountain God’s legacy, though, had recipes he’d cooked up over his long divine life. Those were what Han aimed to refine.


    One more trip to the Ten Thousand Stars Guild later, and he’d have pretty much every cultivation pill circulating in the nearby counties.


    Viscera Realm pills packed a punch—one could last days. Han figured he wouldn’t even finish them before the month was up.


    “I’ll check the storeroom,” Mu Wan said, turning to go.


    “Wait up, Miss Mu,” Han called. “Do you sell herb seeds here?”


    She blinked, caught off guard. “Growing herbs isn’t easy—it’s not a quick fix.”


    “If you’re thinking of churning out a ton of herbs fast for refining or profit, that’s a pipe dream.”


    “I know. We’re from a faction ourselves—just looking to build up some reserves,” Han offered, keeping it vague but sensible.


    Mu Wan nodded, piecing it together. Their group probably wanted to train an alchemist.


    She wasn’t far off—just one tweak. Han wasn’t raising a person; he was raising a ghost.


    “Besides pills and herbs, the Waning Moon Pavilion does deal in seeds,” she confirmed.


    “Hang on…” She rummaged through her spatial pouch and pulled out a booklet. “Take a look—any seeds you need, they’re in there.”


    She started to leave but paused, adding a word of caution. “Your sister’s got real talent. Pills for cultivation? Watch the amount—don’t overdo it.”


    Not “no pills”—just don’t lean on them too hard.


    Once she was gone, Bai Ruoyue smirked. “How come she didn’t warn you, Little Junior Brother?”


    Han shrugged, deadpan. “Look at me—pushing thirty, clearly a washout. Pills are my only shot at getting anywhere.”


    Hopeless cases don’t dream big. Pop some pills, bulk up while I’m young, maybe land a dojo gig for my retirement plan. Otherwise, when I’m old and creaky, too weak to swing, I’m done for.


    “No worries—I’ll protect you,” Bai Ruoyue laughed. “Just hide behind me.”


    “Oh, I’ll get behind you eventually,” Han muttered.


    Bai Ruoyue didn’t catch the double meaning. “You seriously planning to grow herbs at the dojo, Little Junior Brother? Doesn’t seem like there’s enough space.”


    “Worth a shot,” Han said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”


    Since the Fortune Gourd showed up, Han had been hooked on herb seeds.


    Ripened, they might not all become pills right away, but they were still wealth. Sometimes, raw herbs outvalued refined ones.


    When dealing with alchemists, rare herbs were gold—hard currency in every sense. Even at places like the Ten Thousand Stars Trade Fair, they were hot commodities.


    A big stash of mature herbs would beef up Han’s material reserves—a serious windfall.


    Plus, An Lang’s alchemy studies needed heaps of herbs for practice.


    Seeds were dirt cheap compared to buying mature plants—pennies on the dollar.


    If Han didn’t stockpile like crazy this month, he’d be squandering the gourd’s cheat-code potential.


    Strike while the iron’s hot—chances like this don’t come twice.


    Shame, though—top-tier seeds were near impossible to find. In Tianyue County, even Bone Forging or Day Roaming main herb seeds were scarce.


    After a bit, Mu Wan returned.


    “The storeroom’s short a few herbs, but I’ll track them down while Grandpa’s refining. Once he’s done, we’ll start your batch—no delays.”


    “Thanks, Miss Mu,” Han said, genuinely grateful, then listed the seeds he wanted.


    “That many?” Mu Wan muttered, surprised. “I’ll have them ready before Grandpa finishes your pills.”


    Han nodded. Looked like they’d be in the county capital a few days—no rush.


    After lingering at the pavilion, Han and Bai Ruoyue headed to the Ten Thousand Stars Guild, same goal in mind: snag seeds, grab pills.


    With his long career plus the Three Yin haul, Han’s pockets were deep—no cash worries here.


    The two stops netted him three Viscera Realm pills he hadn’t found at the Black-and-White Tower.


    Bone Forging or Day Roaming treasure pills? Too pricey. With Mu Dongshan already on the job, buying them wasn’t worth it. Besides, high-end pills like that weren’t always for sale—better to toss them into the Ten Thousand Stars Trade Fair for a bidding war.


    Business done, on the way back to the Ghost God Division, Han asked, “Senior Sister, what do you know about the Lingxuan Taoist Temple?”


    “One of the county capital’s two big temples—and the oldest,” Bai Ruoyue shared. “Among the local powers, it’s got the longest history, dating back to the dynasty’s founding.”


    “Dad once told me it’s a branch of a bigger faction, backed by a heavyweight lineage. Their top disciples usually get shipped off eventually.”


    “A branch of a major player?” Han said, surprised.


    “Ask Aunt Mo which one—Dad didn’t spell it out,” Bai Ruoyue replied, then remembered something. “Oh, and the Gao family—you know, Black Cloud Town’s Gao family? Gao Zhenxiong’s third kid studies there.”


    “What’s his name… Oh, right—Gao Tong.”


    “Gao Tong?” Han asked reflexively. “Which generation?”


    “What do you mean, ‘which generation’?”


    Generation gap, huh? Thick walls between us for sure.