“The brewing of the Spirit-Nourishing Decoction requires extremely precise control of the heat. We, as wanderers of the martial world, may be well-versed in pharmacology, but when it comes to decocting medicine, we are still somewhat lacking.” Mr. Sullivan lifted his head slightly, glanced at Henry Carter not far away, then withdrew his gaze and said indifferently, “If we hadn’t run into him, we’d probably have to go to town to find a doctor to brew the medicine. But in doing so, our whereabouts would inevitably be exposed.”

　　Everyone nodded in agreement.

　　Since they had encountered this young Daoist, there was no need to seek out a doctor to brew the medicine. As for exposing their whereabouts, as long as they killed him, no one would know.

　　They did not bother to avoid Henry Carter in their conversation, because in their eyes, the little Daoist would not live past today. Since he was as good as dead, why bother avoiding him?

　　These young heroes simply took the little Daoist for a country herb-gatherer, ignorant of the world and lacking in cunning, unable to catch the hidden meaning in their words. But what they didn’t know was that Henry Carter’s family had run a pharmacy since his childhood; he had met many martial artists and people from all walks of life, and was well aware of the darkness in people’s hearts.

　　Henry Carter felt heavy-hearted. The implication in their words was clear: to avoid exposing their whereabouts, the best way was to kill him.

　　“These people are indeed ruthless and vicious.”

　　Henry Carter sighed inwardly, picking a few mushrooms.

　　Mushrooms could barely count as a medicinal ingredient; they were optional in the Spirit-Nourishing Decoction, but if used, they were still quite good.

　　However, the mushrooms in Henry Carter’s hand were colorful, their hues bright and striking.

　　Carrying his medicine basket, he piled up a mound of earth in front of everyone, lit a fire inside, and then placed the stove, which the young heroes had taken from their packs, onto the fire. Henry Carter took a water pouch from one of the young heroes and poured it into the stove.

　　The young heroes only glanced at the little Daoist before resuming their own conversation and laughter, paying him no mind.

　　Standing before them, Henry Carter appeared somewhat nervous, like a youth who rarely saw outsiders.

　　Many medicinal ingredients had already been placed in the stove; only the fungus-type ingredient was missing, and Henry Carter had just picked mushrooms.

　　The young Daoist was a bit anxious, his palms slightly sweaty. He took out the brightly colored mushrooms and was about to put them into the small stove.

　　Just then, a cold laugh rang out.

　　Henry Carter’s heart sank.

　　Someone grabbed Henry Carter’s wrist.

　　It was the same Young Master Sullivan who had kicked Henry Carter down earlier.

　　This young hero, who looked only a few years older than Henry Carter, sneered coldly, “Did you really think we wouldn’t recognize medicinal herbs? We come from the sacred grounds of the martial world, the most outstanding figures of our generation. Even if we can’t brew medicine, we still recognize plenty of herbs. If not, we’d have been poisoned long ago while wandering the martial world, and years of hard training would have gone to waste. I advise you to behave yourself, or else…”

　　Before he finished speaking, Henry Carter felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and tumbled away.

　　Mr. Sullivan wore a mocking expression and said, “These look pretty, but the more beautiful the mushroom, the more poisonous it is. Even mountain hunters know this basic fact—let alone us?”

　　The young hero in yellow beside him frowned slightly and whispered, “Missing a fungus-type ingredient won’t affect the efficacy of the Spirit-Nourishing Decoction. Why not just kill this kid?”

　　Mr. Sullivan shook his head slightly and said, “What kind of people are we? Would we settle for incomplete ingredients?”

　　As he spoke, another person echoed, “Brat, hurry up and pick some fungus-type herbs, or else…”

　　Henry Carter breathed a sigh of relief, clutching his aching shoulder, and slowly got up.

　　Young Master Sullivan said coldly, “The decoction is almost ready. You’d better hurry up. You should know your little life isn’t worth as much as this batch of medicine.”

　　He flicked his finger, and a small stone shot from his hand, striking Henry Carter on the side of the face.

　　The stone was thrown with hidden weapon technique, its edges sharp, instantly leaving a bloody scratch on Henry Carter’s cheek. Henry Carter thought to himself that things were bad, but deliberately showed a look of fear, and hurried off to search for fungus-type herbs.

　　In a fluster, he finally found some mushrooms.

　　These mushrooms were non-toxic and dull in color.

　　He quickly picked some, then used a nearby green tree to help himself stand up. On that tree, there happened to be a vine growing.

　　The vine was green.

　　So the mushroom got a bit of green on it.

　　Just a bit of green.

　　Henry Carter picked the mushrooms and hurried back, washing them in the kettle’s water until they were quite clean, though he accidentally missed one, which still had a bit of green on it.

　　The young heroes didn’t pay it any mind.

　　When the last mushroom was put into the stove, Henry Carter fanned the fire, controlling the heat.

　　The young heroes kept watching him, making him quite uncomfortable.

　　A long time passed.

　　“It’s ready.”

　　Henry Carter picked up the medicinal soup and said respectfully, “The decoction is ready.”

　　Young Master Sullivan stared at him in silence, his gaze chilling.

　　After a long while, Young Master Sullivan said coldly, “Drink it.”

　　Henry Carter was taken aback.

　　Young Master Sullivan’s expression grew even colder, like frost. “Drink it.”

　　Henry Carter sighed and took a small sip.

　　“Looks like you’ve finally learned to behave.”