Military Camp, dispensary.
"Out of medicinal materials?"
Chen Sanshi, who had come to buy restorative medicine, was told that the warehouse was empty. Only Blood Replenishing Soup remained; there was no Essence Replenishing Soup.
"The third day of every month was originally when the martial academies were supposed to deliver silver, grain, and medicinal materials."
Officer Jiang controlled the heat with a palm-leaf fan and said unhurriedly, "They're already several days late, yet there's still no sign of them. I said it before—how could they bear to keep sending things forever? In just this one month, they'd be losing several hundred thousand taels of silver."
"Give me a bowl of Blood Replenishing Soup first."
Chen Sanshi said.
He could roughly guess what had happened.
Xiang Tingchun's scheme of empty-handedly trapping a white wolf had nearly run its course.
The martial academies were no fools. Having not even seen the goods, how could they possibly be willing to keep bleeding themselves dry for nothing?
He wondered how Xiang Tingchun would deal with it next.
In any case, it had nothing to do with him.
At worst, medicinal materials would become more expensive.
At most, he would make a few more trips into the mountains. If he could not find exotic beasts, there were always Black Bears and Great Worms.
He drained the entire bowl of Blood Replenishing Soup in one gulp.
Carrying his spear, Chen Sanshi arrived at the Training Ground and began his final push to break through.
In the Blood Training realm, from entry level to minor accomplishment, one's blood and qi evolved from a single thread into four threads, circulating through the limbs and granting strength far beyond that of ordinary people.
But no martial art relied solely on the limbs.
Take spear techniques, for example. Not only