Henry Clark didn’t even think about it and took it directly.

Having lived two lives, he deeply understood the importance of money—especially in this world, which was more exciting but also more cruel. Only money could help him live longer. As for pride... when your very life is hanging by a thread, who cares if the other person is arrogant or not?

Of course.

He loved money.

But he also had his limits. For example, to repay John Foster for saving him from the fire, he would waive the fee for preparing the medicine. That was not something a mere one hundred taels of blue silver could cover.

Henry Clark stuffed the silver notes into his chest, then looked at the beaming Samuel Collins and said calmly, “Manager Collins, the customer has already given a tip. Is Wenyao Pharmacy unwilling to follow the rules? Three thousand six hundred taels of blue silver, half a percent is one hundred and eighty taels. You, Manager Collins, are a well-known figure in Hanshan City. Surely you wouldn’t break the rules and ruin Wenyao Pharmacy’s reputation over such a small amount?”

“You...”

Samuel Collins was dumbfounded, staring at Henry Clark as if he were looking at a monster.

He understood the rules, and he knew about the half-percent commission, but that money was always settled secretly by the shop after the customer left. When had a broker ever demanded it so brazenly in front of the customer?

“Not planning to pay?”

Henry Clark raised an eyebrow.

Samuel Collins swallowed hard, glanced at James Bolton and the others, and saw that their expressions were normal, showing no signs of anger. Only then did he seem to realize something. He quickly pulled out a few silver notes and stuffed them into Henry Clark’s hand, grinning from ear to ear as he said, “How could I not pay? Brother Clark, you’re the god of wealth for our Wenyao Pharmacy. I, Samuel Collins, might owe blue silver to anyone, but I wouldn’t dare owe you! In the future, I hope you’ll bring more distinguished guests to support us.”

“No problem.”

Henry Clark didn’t feel much contempt for the “snobbery” of Samuel Collins. Everyone in this world had their own way of dealing with people. Samuel Collins... was just a sycophant.

At the doorway.

A young man in a gray jacket and round hat, with a sharp face and monkey-like features, happily stepped over the threshold. Not caring that there were people beside Samuel Collins, he pulled a wooden box from his chest and said, “Master Wu, I’ve brought back the iron ring grass you asked me to buy. It’s exactly the amount you specified.”

Samuel Collins nodded in satisfaction, casually took out some loose silver from his chest, tossed it to the young man, and waved him off, “A reward for you, go on!”

“Thank you, Master Wu.”

The sharp-faced young man grinned slyly, left contentedly with the silver. Pharmacies not only sold medicine but also bought it; the profit came from buying and selling.

Iron ring grass?

Henry Clark’s eyes lit up, his heart pounding.

Iron ring grass was a rare medicinal herb, extremely cold in nature and also poisonous—a rare chronic poison. For ordinary people, iron ring grass was worthless, but for those in urgent need, it was priceless.

Just like Henry Clark—he needed iron ring grass. If he could get it, he could refine Cold Poison Pills, which would allow him to live a few more months.

“Manager Collins.”

Henry Clark asked calmly, “Iron ring grass isn’t a good herb. Many evil people use it to poison others.”

The smile on Samuel Collins’s face froze. Suddenly, he remembered that Henry Clark had been searching for poisonous herbs for the past year. His eyes took on a strange look as he said, “Iron ring grass isn’t good for those who don’t need it, but for those who do, it’s extremely valuable. For example, Brother Clark, you?”

Henry Clark wasn’t embarrassed at being seen through and asked calmly, “What’s the price for this iron ring grass?”

A glint flashed in Samuel Collins’s eyes as he replied bluntly, “Eight hundred taels of blue silver, no bargaining.”

Eight hundred taels?

Upon hearing this, Henry Clark turned and left.

Although he desperately needed iron ring grass, the total amount of blue silver he had was only two hundred and eighty taels at most—far short of eight hundred. The gap was too big, and there was no room for negotiation. Henry Clark couldn’t be bothered to stay any longer.

James Bolton and David Bolton were both shrewd people. With thoughtful looks in their eyes, they followed Henry Clark out. As for John Foster, she frowned in thought, then sent a voice transmission to Samuel Collins: “Don’t sell the iron ring grass for now. Within three days, I will definitely come back to buy it.”

Samuel Collins’s eyes widened. He was sure John Foster’s lips hadn’t moved at all, yet the voice sounded in his mind. This meant that the stunningly beautiful girl before him was a cultivator—and a powerful one at that.

“A person of great importance!”

Samuel Collins suppressed his excitement and nodded solemnly in response.

Back at the Rare Medicine Workshop, Henry Clark looked at the ruined house and courtyard, burned beyond recognition. He went straight to the side room, glanced around, then called the medicine slaves to help clear out the area. He found a cauldron that was still in good condition and casually kicked the filthy purple coffin aside.

“Huh?”

James Bolton, who had followed him in, suddenly made a surprised sound.

Henry Clark turned to look and saw that he was staring at the purple coffin he had just kicked aside. Raising an eyebrow, he asked with a half-smile, “Do you like it?”