Draining the last drop of noodle soup felt truly satisfying. The foodie Ryan Clark from his previous life, now full and content, finally felt how wonderful it was to be alive. He then got up, paid Owen Harris for the meal, greeted him, and headed out toward the south of the city, where several large herbal medicine shops were located.

Chapter 3 Buying Medicine and Inspecting Relics

After eating and drinking his fill, Ryan Clark finally had the leisure to observe this city, so completely different from modern society, with its ancient charm. While recalling the route to the south of the city, he looked around. Perhaps because today was market day, the streets were packed with people. On both sides were small vendors selling daily necessities, seemingly stationed there long-term. The vegetable sellers were mostly concentrated on a few streets; outside of those, only a few could be seen at street corners heading south.

It was now June, and there were indeed many people on the street wearing Daoist robes. Some even fanned themselves with folding fans while dressed in robes, looking rather out of place.

Ryan Clark arrived at Shuijing Street in the south of the city and headed toward the largest and busiest pharmacy he could find. At the entrance, he saw three large characters in a style similar to Wei script on the signboard—Tong Ren Tang. Ryan Clark was instantly shocked. Tong Ren Tang was truly impressive, even opening branches in another world.

After entering, he went straight to the counter, where the shopkeeper was busy serving customers—an excellent opportunity. He smiled and greeted the apprentice behind the counter, then recited several of the medicinal ingredients from his prescription. The young apprentice noticed that although two of them were valuable, they were still well-stocked, so he didn’t ask Ryan Clark any questions and simply wrapped them in oiled paper and handed them over. “That’ll be four taels and three qian of silver.”

Ryan Clark was secretly shocked at the high price of the prescription’s ingredients—and this was only a few of them. At this rate, his assets would only be enough to prepare about fifty batches of medicine. Each batch would last for three days and six doses. If his soul hadn’t entered the Soul Strengthening stage in half a year, he’d be bankrupt. The saying goes: “The scholar is poor, the warrior is rich, and the Daoist is a spendthrift”—there’s some truth to it. Of course, martial artists didn’t use such rare and precious prescriptions. Normally, a year’s worth of body-strengthening medicine for a martial artist would cost several dozen taels of silver, and the more precious ones might cost a hundred or two hundred taels—which was already quite terrifying, considering Ryan Clark’s small courtyard was only worth two or three hundred taels.

Though surprised, he kept a calm face, took out some broken silver to pay, and left. He then visited several more herbal shops to complete his prescription. Buying from multiple shops was an effective way to prevent others from realizing the value of the prescription by seeing all the ingredients together, thus avoiding unnecessary trouble.

Afterward, he went to the butcher’s shop and told the shopkeeper he planned to host a dog meat feast for friends and family, asking him to deliver four live dogs to his small courtyard in the west of the city.

Ryan Clark returned to his courtyard, meditated for a while to calm himself, then went to the left wing room to find three spare medicine pots. He formed hand seals and chanted incantations, mobilizing the five elements’ qi in his body to resonate with heaven and earth, and cast a dust-removal spell to clean the pots thoroughly. Next, he divided the ingredients into three portions according to the final differing ingredient, placing each set into a pot with the required amount of water. He couldn’t use his usual medicine pot for this, because no matter how well it was cleaned, there would always be some medicinal residue. Normally this wouldn’t matter, but this prescription was almost like alchemy—any extra medicinal property could cause failure.

He carried the pots into the kitchen, where there was a row of small stoves the old Daoist often used for refining medicine. After setting them up, he fetched firewood and used an ignition spell to light the fire. Ryan Clark began to feel a bit tired—alas, his soul was too weak. Although at the Qi Cultivation stage he could mobilize the five elements’ qi in his body to cast spells, it still consumed soul power. Of course, the five elements’ qi in the body at the Qi Cultivation stage was also why Ryan Clark could cast spells with a soul at the Body-Tempering and Soul-Nourishing stage.

Ryan Clark pulled himself together, not daring to slack off. He formed the proper hand seals, recited the incantations, and cast the fire control spell, carefully managing the heat. After half an hour, the hardest part was over; now he just needed to keep a gentle flame and simmer for another two hours.

Only then did Ryan Clark let out a long sigh, feeling dizzy all over. He quickly sat cross-legged, exhaled and circulated his qi, and after a while regained his strength. When the butcher Henry Cooper delivered two black and two yellow dogs, Ryan Clark’s complexion finally returned to normal.

After tying up the four dogs, Ryan Clark drew a bucket of well water and drank heartily, then went inside to sort through the old Daoist’s belongings.

It was the first time Ryan Clark had entered the old Daoist’s room since his death. The room was tidy. Ryan Clark searched around; aside from some clothes and commonly used ritual items, there was only a gray bundle. The clothes weren’t much use to Ryan Clark—they didn’t fit, and he didn’t know how to sew. It seemed the old Daoist had some premonition of his death and had packed everything into the bundle.