Pharmacy Apprentice

Qingyang Town, Hundred Herbs Pharmacy.

At dawn, when the sky had only just begun to brighten, Yang Heng opened his eyes. The sight before him felt unfamiliar. This was not his residence—the sunless handshake buildings in the urban village.

It was a large communal sleeping quarters, spacious enough.

Seven or eight people were sound asleep inside; there was more than enough room for another four or five.

Yet the living conditions were exceptionally terrible.

A faint moldy smell hung in the air. The plaster on the walls peeled away like cracked, dry skin, exposing the brown earth beneath.

Beneath him was an icy, hard wooden board covered by a straw mat less than a centimeter thick. Not only did it provide no warmth, it even poked painfully against his body.

He had no idea what the quilt was made of. It was as hard as an iron block, like a huge chunk of ice. Its warmth was barely better than nothing; draping it over himself merely gave him a little psychological comfort.

The corners were thick with cobwebs, clearly neglected for a long time.

At the sight of this, Yang Heng was utterly bewildered, unable to figure out what had happened.

Suddenly, a violent pain tore through his mind, as though an iron awl had been forcibly driven into his skull. His face instantly turned deathly pale, his lips drained of all color, and his features twisted hideously, like a vicious ghost crawling out of the Avici Hell—terrifying beyond measure.

Miserable screams escaped his mouth from time to time, the commotion enormous. The others sleeping in the room were startled awake one after another, shooting upright and looking around for the source of the noise.

When they realized that Second Fool Yang Heng was causing the disturbance, each of them flew into a rage, their eyes blazing with fury. They wished they could give Yang Heng a vicious beating.

When Yang Heng had been young, he had suddenly come down with a high fever. Treatment had come too late, leaving lasting aftereffects. His reactions were half a beat slower than normal, and he often did things that made people laugh at him. Gradually, everyone began calling him Second Fool.

Not long after he joined the pharmacy as an apprentice, people discovered this abnormality. Before a single day had passed, word had spread throughout the entire pharmacy. From then on, the apprentices all called him Second Fool, shoved all the dirty and exhausting work onto him, and beat him viciously from time to time.

Day after day, less than half a year after entering the pharmacy, Yang Heng collapsed from injuries and illness. Last night, he had breathed his last, which was why Yang Heng had transmigrated here.

After sorting through the chaotic memories in his mind, Yang Heng understood his current situation. This was practically a heaven-shattering opening, and a bitter smile could not help appearing at the corner of his lips.

He had transmigrated!

And it was a soul transmigration.

What virtue or ability did a miserable wage slave like him possess, to have the fortune of becoming one of the great army of transmigrators?

Could it be that his ancestors were blessing him?

After all, he had only recently gone home to pay respects to them.

After sighing softly, he continued searching through the memories in his mind and discovered that this body's parents had both already died.

This body's mother had caught a cold and died not long after giving birth to him. His father had been a Xiucai Scholar who repeatedly failed the examinations, squandering what had once been a fairly well-off family fortune. To make a living for father and son, he had opened a private school in the countryside and struggled through life on students' tuition.

When Yang Heng turned fifteen, Father Yang unfortunately contracted a serious illness. Knowing his days were numbered, he asked someone to secure Yang Heng a livelihood at Hundred Herbs Pharmacy, so that he could leave in peace.

Only three days after Yang Heng entered the pharmacy, Father Yang rode a crane westward.

At the time, Yang Heng's reactions were half a beat slower than ordinary people's, and he did not know how to express his feelings.

When he heard the news of his father's death, he appeared utterly indifferent. Those who did not know the truth thought him cold by nature, which gave him a poor reputation in the pharmacy and caused everyone to isolate him.

Before long, everyone discovered his abnormality. He spoke and acted half a beat slower than normal people, and those working alongside him often suffered beyond endurance. Good-tempered people did not bother arguing with him, while hot-tempered ones rained fists and kicks upon him.

When the pharmacy masters witnessed such scenes, they would loudly berate the attackers. If you beat him injured, who would do the work? Would you pay to treat his injuries?

As for the beatings in secret, they would not interfere. They only cared whether the work was done properly.

He was called an apprentice, but in truth he was little more than a menial laborer. Before entering the pharmacy, one had to sign an apprenticeship contract stating clearly: during the apprenticeship period, no responsibility would be assumed for life or death.

Apprentices had a three-year training period to temper their character. Those who performed outstandingly might have a chance to be accepted as disciples by the masters ahead of time, taught medicinal theory, and eventually become country doctors capable of supporting their families.

But in reality, let alone three years, even among those who endured the full three-year apprenticeship, fewer than one in ten became a master's disciple.

It was just like the pie leaders drew at companies—big and round. Listen to it if you liked, but do not take it seriously.

The apprentices' daily work mainly consisted of cleaning, moving medicinal ingredients, delivering medicine outside, and so on.

The apprentices were also divided into ranks.

Those who served by the masters' sides held the highest status. They cleaned the masters' rooms and organized their personal affairs. If they performed well, they might receive occasional rewards of money or grain. If a master took a liking to them, they might even be accepted as disciples, and their status would then become vastly different.

Apprentices sent out to deliver medicine ranked second. When customers were pleased, they sometimes gave tips as well. Of course, ordinary apprentices need not even dream of such work; only those close to the masters had that opportunity.

Third-rank apprentices moved medicinal ingredients. The work was somewhat tiring, pure manual labor, but compared to fourth-rank apprentices, it was far more comfortable.

Fourth-rank apprentices cleaned. This was not the sort of work that meant merely sweeping the floor; it was far more exhausting than a school-wide cleanup.

The work of fourth-rank apprentices was to clean the toilets. Every day, while the sky was still dim and gray, they picked up iron shovels and manure buckets, pushed single-wheeled carts, and rushed to the toilets to begin work.

This task was done in groups of four, with personnel rotated every half month. Yang Heng had been doing it for five months, yet he had never been rotated out.

During his first month after entering, his work had been moving medicinal ingredients. Once, while doing so, he accidentally stepped on and crushed a medicinal ingredient that was not worth much. Yet the master on duty seized upon this as leverage, made a mountain out of a molehill, and severely punished him by ordering him to clean the toilets for a year without rotation.

The true reason, however, was that on payday, Yang Heng had not offered him any tribute, while the other apprentices had seemingly agreed beforehand and all given him tribute.

Pharmacy apprentices received twenty Copper Coins each month. Giving three to five coins to honor a master was not much money, but it showed sincerity. He alone had given nothing, so naturally he had been marked down for it.

But at the time, his reactions had been slow. How could he understand the ways of the world? Moreover, he had been isolated among the apprentices and received no information. That was how he angered the petty-minded Master Zhang. The moment Master Zhang caught Yang Heng by the pigtail, he punished him ruthlessly.

After the other pharmacy masters learned of this, none spoke up. They would not offend Master Zhang, someone of equal standing to themselves, for the sake of a mere apprentice.

Pharmacy apprentices held lowly status. One wrong move could bring curses and beatings from the masters, and sometimes they were bullied by older apprentices as well.

Yet even so, many families scrambled to send their children into pharmacies, hoping their children could become pharmacy apprentices.

The practical reason was that in recent years, the world had fallen into chaos. Natural disasters came one after another—droughts, floods, locust swarms—causing poor harvests. Ordinary families found it difficult to feed even one child.

As the saying went, a half-grown boy could eat his father into ruin. That was no joke.

The work in the pharmacy was hard, and one could be scolded or beaten at the slightest provocation, but it provided food and lodging. There was no need to worry about survival. With good luck, one could learn a few medical skills, become a country doctor, and have no trouble making a living. Where else could one find such a good opportunity?

Thus, parents from poor and ordinary families sent their children to pharmacies one after another, hoping they would become pharmacy apprentices.

Pharmacy apprentices could be freely scolded by anyone inside the pharmacy, but once outside, they held some status even in Qingyang Town.

In these times, those who ran pharmacies were all great clans and wealthy houses, with extraordinary influence and strength.

They possessed powerful martial force to resist danger; otherwise, they could not keep a pharmacy open.

Leaving aside bandits, even a few hooligans making trouble and disturbing the pharmacy's peace would make business difficult to maintain.

Martial force—powerful martial force—was the foundation upon which Hundred Herbs Pharmacy stood firm in this chaotic world.

Pharmacy apprentices represented the pharmacy's face, and ordinary people did not dare provoke them at all.

Father Yang had taught for many years and possessed some connections in Qingyang Town. He used those connections to send Yang Heng into Hundred Herbs Pharmacy as an apprentice. It was precisely because he knew the pharmacy's strength that he had done so.

Though apprentices worked heavily, they had no worries over food or clothing and were safe. Beatings and curses did occur, but deaths remained extremely rare.

After all, the pharmacy had always claimed to uphold the principle of healing the sick and saving the dying. At least on the surface, it had to consider its reputation.

The original Yang Heng's death had two causes. First, his mind was somewhat abnormal, his reactions slow, and he did not know how to resist. Over time, this only fed the bullies' arrogant fury. Second, his father had died, he had no relatives or friends, and no one to stand up for him. When he died, no one cared.

His circumstances were truly worrying.

Knowing the perilous situation he faced—bullied by his companions and living in a chaotic world where the rule of law had collapsed, with danger everywhere—Yang Heng sighed inwardly, his brows tightly furrowed.

Fortunately, having transmigrated here, he was not without something to rely on.

Friends who often transmigrated knew that transmigrators needed a golden finger—whether a system, a panel, a ring, a jade pendant, or something similar.

His golden finger was a transparent bead called the Marrow Cleansing Pearl. It was covered in mysterious patterns and gave off an ancient aura.

It was located at his navel. With the slightest act of concentration, he could sense its existence.

As its name implied, the Marrow Cleansing Pearl possessed the effect of Marrow Cleansing and Bone Scouring, altering one's constitution.

It could draw energy from daily meals and slowly accumulate it. Once the bead's energy was full, it would release a strange energy that improved the body's physique, cleansed the marrow, replaced the bones, and enhanced the host's talent.

With the Marrow Cleansing Pearl's help, Yang Heng firmly believed that he would achieve something in the future and live the life of a High Person.

However...

Right now, his status was lowly and he had no ability to protect himself. For the time being, he would keep a low profile and develop quietly. He would remember all past grudges in his heart and settle them slowly in the future.

But before he could continue imagining his beautiful future life, a vicious wind suddenly swept toward him from behind.

With a glance from the corner of his eye, he saw a large, callused hand whistling through the air as it viciously slapped toward his right cheek.