Zhao Yuanliang, Who Keeps His Word

Zhao Yuanliang nodded. "I heard from Fellow Daoist Lin that Fellow Daoist Han wants those sections of thousand-year spirit bamboo. If you refine mid-grade Seven-Colored Pills, those sections of thousand-year spirit bamboo will be yours. On top of that, I'll give you a third-tier superior-grade lightning-element demon core. That's a generous enough reward, isn't it?"

The items he had brought out were worth over three hundred thousand spirit stones. The reward was indeed generous. Had Lin Youzhi not told him that Han Changming was highly skilled in alchemy, he would not have come knocking.

"Aren't you afraid I'll take the materials and fail to produce mid-grade Seven-Colored Pills?" Han Changming asked curiously.

"Of course I am. I'll give Fellow Daoist Han three sets of materials, and you give me five mid-grade pills. If you fail to refine them, then those five pills will be mine. It isn't that I, Zhao, am stingy—it's simply that I desperately need mid-grade Seven-Colored Pills." Zhao Yuanliang's tone was earnest.

To be honest, his demand was indeed excessive. How could a third-tier alchemist capable of refining mid-grade pills be an ordinary person? The more capable a cultivator was, the greater their temper tended to be.

"Fellow Daoist Zhao, my apologies. Han is shallow in learning and lacking in talent; I can't help you." Han Changming politely refused. What a joke. Others did not even dare make such demands when asking Han Changming to refine pills. Zhao Yuanliang was plainly a Rogue Cultivator—otherwise, he would not need to seek Han Changming's help.

Zhao Yuanliang immediately grew anxious. "Fellow Daoist Han, this old man speaks rather bluntly. Please don't take offense. How about this? If you can refine the Seven-Colored Pills, once it is done, I can promise to do one thing for you. So long as