Louise's Invitation!

Sure enough, Connor did not even furrow his brow. He took out a money pouch from inside his clothes, counted out one hundred gleaming Gold Soul Coins, and placed them on the table. "Only right! Absolutely only right! Forget one hundred—this would be worth a thousand! My life isn't something a mere hundred Gold Soul Coins could buy."

He paused, then added, "Doctor Lan, I've hauled goods between several cities to the west for years, and I know plenty of people on the road. But I truly have never met a second person with medical skills as miraculous as yours. If anyone asks in the future, I'll be sure to spread the word for you."

Lan Tian smiled. "Then I'll have to thank you, Mr. Connor."

"What thanks? I'm the one who should be thanking you." Connor bowed again, then carefully straightened his clothes and pushed the door open to leave.

Lan Tian walked to the table and put the one hundred Gold Soul Coins into the cash box.

Sunlight streamed in, casting a bright patch across the tabletop. He narrowed his eyes and looked at the street outside the window, in a good mood.

Money coming in was naturally a good thing.

But more important than the money was Connor's final remark.

Reputation was worth more than anything in this world.

A wealthy merchant traveled back and forth between several cities, telling everyone he met that there was a Doctor Lan in Nuoding City, a miracle worker who could even remove and heal a Hedgehog Soul Beast's spike that had broken off inside someone's chest.

Once word spread, more and more people would come because of his reputation.

Only with more money could resources keep up.

Only when resources kept up could cultivation speed up.

He lowered his head and looked at the one-ring soul master badge at his waist, his gaze calm.

Twenty-five years old, rank twelve.

In this era, that certainly counted as a late bloomer among late bloomers, but the road ahead was still very long.

In the days that followed, Lan Tian readjusted the rhythm of his life.

At first light each morning, he put on all four weighted rings and did physical training in the courtyard.

Fist techniques, leg techniques, dodging, sprinting, rolling.

He practiced every movement to the limit. Sweat rolled down from his temples, splashing into the dirt and soaking patches of earth.

His fists and feet stirred the wind, and the heavy iron rings made dull clanging sounds with his movements.

To increase resistance training, he also set up a wooden stake in the courtyard and bound it with several thick layers of beast hide. Every day, he punched and kicked it for at least two hours.

At first, he could only last one hour before panting for breath, but after half a month, continuously hammering it with heavy punches for two hours was no longer much of a challenge for him.

The body was the most reliable weapon.

No matter how strong a martial soul was, there would be times when it was suppressed.

No matter how high one's soul power was, there would be a day when it ran dry.

But the strength of the flesh, once trained, belonged to him. No one could take it away.

And during training, he deliberately coordinated it with soul power.

With every punch and every kick, he poured a strand of soul power into his muscles and bones, allowing his body to burst out with power far beyond an ordinary person's at the instant of attack.

This consumed far more mental focus than simply releasing a soul skill, but precisely because of that, the precision of his control over soul power was improving rapidly.

After training ended, he took a cold shower, changed into clean clothes, and opened the doors to see patients.

Most of the patients in the morning had minor problems like bruises, sprains, chills, and fevers. A probe with Blue Silver Grass and a brief activation of Endless Life solved them, and the fees were cheap too, ranging from a few dozen copper soul coins to one or two silver soul coins.

But for serious injuries or difficult, complicated illnesses, the price depended on the situation.

In the afternoon, if there were no especially urgent patients, he went to the back courtyard, sat amid the patch of Blue Silver Grass he had planted himself, and cultivated through meditation.

This was the iron rule he had set for himself: he had to guarantee four hours of meditation every day.

Meditation was all about accumulation over time. He could not slack off for even a moment.

If he meditated earlier, he could also sleep normally at night.

At night, he took out the various medicinal herbs he had accumulated during the day to process them—grinding them into powder, drying them, soaking them, purifying them.

He had learned these crafts from books in the library. Although they were only the most basic methods, when combined with the memories of his previous life and his understanding of medicinal herbs, the quality of the finished products was quite good.

That evening, he was sitting in the back courtyard, processing a batch of freshly gathered Drunken Dream Grass, when Louise knocked and came in.

"Doctor Lan, busy?"

"Mm. These herbs have to be processed while they're fresh. If they're left too long, their medicinal effect will dissipate." Lan Tian did not raise his head, and the movements of his hands did not stop. "How do you have time to come by today?"

Louise sat down on the stone stool beside him, propped her chin in both hands, and watched him work. Only after a while did she speak. "My father heard that you saved Mr. Connor, and he was especially happy. He wanted me to ask you if you would honor us with your presence at a banquet at our home the night after tomorrow, so he can thank you in person."

Lan Tian's hands paused, and he looked up. "A banquet? That's too polite. I took a consultation fee, so I did what I should. There's no need to make it so grand, is there?"

"Oh, don't refuse." Louise waved her hand. "My father values friendship and loyalty above all. Mr. Connor is an old friend of his of many years. Since you saved him, my father insists on thanking you in person no matter what. And..."

She lowered her voice and blinked. "My father said there will also be a few distinguished guests from elsewhere attending then. They're all people of some standing. If you go, you might get to know a few more people, and that would benefit the clinic too."

Lan Tian thought it over, then nodded. "All right. Since your father has invited me so warmly, I'll respectfully accept. What time exactly?"

"The evening after tomorrow. Just arrive at my house before sunset."

Louise stood and walked out with a bright smile. "Then I'll go back and tell my father first. You carry on with your work."

"Mm. Take care."

After Louise left, Lan Tian continued with his work, grinding the last batch of Drunken Dream Grass into powder, pouring it into porcelain bottles, and sealing them.

Then he stood up and stretched his limbs.

He was not actually that enthusiastic about banquets, but Louise was right. It was always good to know more people.

After all, his path could not remain forever trapped inside this tiny clinic.

The night wind swept through the clumps of Blue Silver Grass in the courtyard, the leaves rubbing against one another with faint, fragmented rustles.

Lan Tian walked into the middle of the grass, sat down cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began today's meditation.

Soul power slowly circulated through his meridians, strand by strand, flowing into his dantian.

He could feel his soul power accumulating bit by bit. Compared to the tortoise-like pace of those nineteen years back in the village, his current rate of progress was already countless times faster.

His first soul ring had come from Blue Silver Grass of the same origin and lineage, and those four hundred years of age had brought a very real improvement to the quality of his martial soul.

He had not taken the wrong path.

From rank ten until now, not much time had passed, but his cultivation progress was clearly faster than any period during the previous nineteen years.

If he could keep up this speed... he calculated silently. Reaching rank twenty as a Grand Soul Master might not require waiting until he was past sixty.

"A twenty-year-old Grand Soul Master?"

The thought had only just surfaced when he himself could not help laughing.

For someone who had only broken through rank ten at twenty-five, what was the point of talking about being a twenty-year-old Grand Soul Master? The timing did not even match.

But put another way, breaking through to rank twenty before thirty might truly be possible.

If that happened, then this life really would be more than just peacefully marrying, having children, and living like a local tyrant.

He gathered his thoughts and sank into a deeper state of meditation.

The night grew darker. In the courtyard, the Blue Silver Grass glowed faintly under the moonlight, like a silent ocean that wrapped around him.