Pill grades

Early the next morning, before Three Trees Village had fully stirred awake, the Yi Family Courtyard was already bustling.

The ox cart stood outside the gate. The old yellow ox swished its tail, white mist puffing from its nostrils, while two layers of worn straw mats covered the cart bed.

Jiang Yuexin ran out of the house with a bundle, then ran back inside.

"Grandpa, should we bring this earthenware jar?"

"No. It's chipped. We don't need it."

"What about this old quilt?"

"No. It's full of holes. What would we want it for?"

"And the stool?"

"Not that either. Can't you see it's missing a leg?"

"Yuexin, we're moving house, not hauling junk. Grandpa has a job now. Once we get to town, we'll buy everything new."

Jiang Yuexin had no answer to that, so she could only tuck the three-legged stool into a corner of the ox cart.

Yang Hui packed much more efficiently. She owned little: two old quilts, a wooden chest, a few garments washed nearly white, and her packets of medicine. That was everything she had.

Before climbing onto the cart, she stood at her doorway for a long time.

The little house had peeling walls, a crooked door, and a kitchen chimney missing half its length.

She usually cursed the shabby house, the impoverished village, and Heaven for turning a blind eye. Yet now that she was truly leaving, she found herself reluctant to go.

Jiang Yuexin went over to support her.

"Aunt Yang, let's go."

Yang Hui came back to herself and wiped the corners of her eyes, though her words remained defiant. "Who's reluctant to leave? The wind blew dust into my eyes. This wretched village-even dogs turn up their noses at it."

The ox cart slowly rolled out of the village.

Its wheels creaked over the dirt road, trailing the sound of old days receding into the distance.

Yi Yang sat at the back of the cart, his battered fan resting across his knees, his back still stooped.

A few early-rising households near the village entrance peered out. Some looked envious; others wore an indescribable sourness.

"Old Yi finally made it through. A post at the Heaven Patrol Office! Even guarding a gate would put him ahead of us."

"That girl Yuexin has good days ahead of her."

Once they reached Cloud Pattern Town, the ox cart turned onto the back street behind the Inspection Storehouse.

The quarters the Heaven Patrol Office had assigned Yi Yang stood on the west side of the rear compound. It was a private little courtyard with a camphorwood gate. Though old, the gate was sturdy, and a faint woody fragrance drifted out when it opened.

Blue bricks paved the courtyard. A well stood in the middle, its mouth covered by a stone lid. Two main rooms lay to the east, a side room to the west, and the kitchen adjoined a small woodshed.

Jiang Yuexin stood at the gate, unable to hide the sparkle in her eyes.

"Grandpa, are they really letting us live here?"

Yi Yang set down his bundle.

"Too small for you?"

"Not at all!"

The girl dashed into the courtyard, touched the well platform, then the doorframe. Finally, she stopped outside the main room, smiling until her eyes curved into crescents.

"This door is so thick. Once we bolt it at night, nobody can get in."

Yang Hui climbed down with a hand on the cart's side and walked halfway around the courtyard, growing more pleased with every step.

"The courtyard's spacious, the well's close, the kitchen doesn't let in drafts, and the walls are high."

She slapped the camphorwood gate hard enough to hurt her palm.

"Good! Solid! A hundred times better than that rotten fence in Three Trees Village. At last, I won't have to sleep with a kitchen knife under my pillow."

After settling the household, Yi Yang changed into the Heaven Patrol Office's black uniform with red trim, hung his regulation saber at his waist, and headed out.

Jiang Yuexin called after him from the gate. "Grandpa, will you come back for lunch?"

"Depends on whether the office feeds us."

Yang Hui shouted from the kitchen, "It's your first day on duty. Don't muddle things up. When people ask you something, spare them that infuriating Three Trees Village routine."

Yi Yang walked out with his hands behind his back.

"Nobody knows how to get along with people better than this old man."

Yang Hui scoffed. "You know how to get along with people? Then dogs must know how to climb trees."

In the Inspection Storehouse's inner courtyard, morning training had just ended.

The smells of sweat, medicinal oil, and iron from the weapons mingled on the Martial Arts Yard, washing hot over everyone's faces.

Yi Yang did not head to the Archive Hall. Instead, he followed the little path beside the noticeboard toward the Contribution Hall, in no hurry to reach his secluded workplace.

To him, the real point of joining the Heaven Patrol Office was gaining access to pills he could not buy outside.

The Archive Hall's case files were not going to sprout legs and run away. He could read them later.

Many Patrol Guards noticed him along the way, their eyes drifting toward his number thirty-four Command Token: an elderly man with graying hair, dressed in a Patrol Captain's uniform, with a saber at his waist.

The sight was far too conspicuous.

Some muttered under their breath.

"That's the new Patrol Captain at the Archive Hall?"

"He must be sixty, right? Becoming a Patrol Captain at that age-he must have powerful backing."

"Got in through the back door, obviously. What authority does the Archive Hall have? He just watches paper."

"A retirement post among the Patrol Captains. Not much of a future in that."

"Don't laugh. He still gets his monthly pay and his share of medicinal supplies. We work ourselves to death, and he might still have it better than us."

Their sour envy drifted over on the morning breeze, sharp enough to set one's teeth on edge.

Yi Yang heard every word, but barely raised his eyelids.

Young people practiced with a saber for a couple of years and loved showing off its edge, afraid nobody would know they could cut grass.

Only after they had truly seen the dead would they understand.

Keep the blade in its sheath, and its owner lived longer.

The Contribution Hall stood on the east side of the inner courtyard, three large rooms joined in a row, with a bronze plaque hanging at the entrance.

Two Patrol Guards stood outside. On seeing Yi Yang's Command Token, they cupped their fists and let him through.

Inside was even livelier than outside.

Wooden cubbies lined the space behind the counter, holding porcelain bottles, jade boxes, and packets of medicine.

An exchange list hung on the wall.

Qi-Blood Pills, Water Essence Pills, Sinew-Strengthening Powder, Minor Tendon-Refining Pills, Bone Tempering Pills...

Yi Yang scanned it and clicked his tongue inwardly.

Expensive.

Really expensive.

Expensive enough to make me want to dig Yang Shuqing out of that mountain gully and strip him of his valuables all over again.

A short-bearded, middle-aged man sat behind the counter, wearing an official uniform more ornate than Yi Yang's and reading a book.

Seeing Yi Yang looking at the uniform, a clerk explained quietly, "That's Candidate Du, the head of the Contribution Hall. He's a Patrol Chief Candidate, one rank above a Patrol Captain, and an expert at the qi-blood third level. Pill and weapon exchanges, merit conversions-he oversees them all."

Yi Yang nodded, now understanding the man's position.

Candidate Du merely glanced up at Yi Yang. After noticing his number thirty-four Command Token and white hair, he returned to his book. Clearly, Yi Yang was not important enough to command his attention.

The clerk led Yi Yang to a counter at the side and asked, "What would you like to exchange for, sir?"

"Pills for the qi-blood third level."

The clerk slid a finger along the ledger, searching as he explained, "The Office calls pills for the qi-blood realm mortal pills. They come in six grades, corresponding to the six Qi-Blood Sixth Levels. Ordinary pill refiners make them, mostly using mountain herbs a few years old, never more than ten."

Seeing how attentively Yi Yang listened, the clerk added a little more, eager to show off his knowledge. After all, elderly though he was, Yi Yang was still a Patrol Captain. "Above mortal pills are True Pills and Treasure Pills. Those aren't things ordinary Qi-Blood Warriors can get their hands on. They require spirit herbs and Mutant Beast flesh and blood. Some even involve methods from the inner qi realm."

At this point, the clerk lowered his voice.

"I hear some Treasure Pills can extend your life. Swallow one, and even an old tree sprouts new shoots."

Yi Yang tapped his fingers against the counter.

Life extension.

That effect was extremely important to him. After all, the greater his lifespan, the stronger his cultivation boost.

If life-extending Treasure Pills truly existed, they were not merely pills-they were amplifiers for his cheat.

But it was too early to think about that now.

Meals had to be eaten one mouthful at a time, and bones trained one inch at a time.

"How much for third-grade mortal pills?"

The clerk opened the price list.

"Minor Tendon-Refining Pills start at thirty-five taels each. Higher-quality ones cost forty-five, or even fifty."

The silver in Yi Yang's clothes suddenly felt painfully thin.

He had looted a fair amount through all his previous killing, but after moving, buying medicine, covering daily expenses, and setting aside money for Jiang Yuexin and Yang Hui, he did not have much left to spend.

The saying that scholars could be poor but martial artists needed wealth was no joke. A martial artist's purse always looked as though rats had gnawed through it.

"Give me two at thirty-five taels each."

The clerk looked up at him.

"Are you sure, sir? Minor Tendon-Refining Pills are rather potent. Someone at the qi-blood second level should combine them with medicinal baths and absorb their effects over several days. Otherwise, they can easily damage the tendons and meridians."

Yi Yang took banknotes and loose silver from his clothes. "These old bones of mine cherish life more than anything."

The clerk accepted the money, counted it, and took out two porcelain bottles.

"Seventy taels altogether. Keep them safe, sir. No returns once you leave the Contribution Hall, and we accept no responsibility for bottles damaged after leaving the counter."

Yi Yang took the bottles and slipped them into a pouch close to his body.

Seventy taels, gone.

The feeling of money flowing away scraped his tongue worse than bitter medicine in summer.

But as long as it bought progress, it was worth it.

Leaving the Contribution Hall, he stood beneath the covered walkway and breathed in the medicinal fragrance seeping from the bottles, already arranging his plans in his head.

Two Minor Tendon-Refining Pills. No greed. Combine them with Blood-Strengthening Decoction baths and refine them over a month.

Push the Wood-Nurturing Longevity Art to its fourth layer.

If all goes well, the qi-blood fourth level-the bone tempering realm-will be within reach.

At that point, aside from Patrol Chief Fang Yue, who was in the organ refining realm, nobody openly known in Cloud Pattern Town would be able to overpower him.

Of course, what lay in the open was only what lay in the open. The world had plenty of hidden gutters. He could not charge around ignoring everything just because he thought himself the protagonist.

Yi Yang had only gained his cheat at sixty. He had not waited that long just to lose his head and throw his life away.

He gathered his sleeves and headed toward the Archive Hall.

At the other end of Cloud Pattern Town.

The atmosphere in the Yi Family's mansion was suffocating. Yi Xun sat in his study, looking considerably older than he had a few days before.

A banknote lay on the table.

One hundred taels.

Liu Fu stood outside the door, afraid to enter and afraid to leave.

Yi Zhanzhi pushed the door open and entered, wearing a newly tailored martial outfit, the saber scabbard at his waist polished to a shine.

"Grandpa, have you gathered the money?"

Yi Xun looked up at him, weariness showing in his eyes, and sighed. "I've mortgaged this house."

Yi Zhanzhi froze for a moment.

"The house?"

"Only temporarily." Yi Xun pushed the banknote over, pressing his fingertips against its surface. "Take these hundred taels. Together with what we raised earlier, that makes five hundred. Go buy the apprenticeship gifts."

Once he finished speaking, Yi Xun felt a tightness in his chest.

The house, shops, and connections he had inherited from his parents had been his dignity, and his roots.

Now, for his grandson's future, he had even mortgaged the house.

Did it hurt?

It hurt.

But what else could he do?

The doors of the Thundercloud Martial Arts Hall would not open even half an inch wider for the poor.

Yi Zhanzhi picked up the banknote, the fire in his eyes overpowering his hesitation.

"Don't worry, Grandpa."

He tucked the banknote into his clothes, his back ramrod straight.

"Once I become the hall master's Personal Disciple, the Yi Family won't just be some modestly wealthy household in town anymore."

"I'll make my way into the county seat, into the Inner City."

"When that happens, I'll be able to present visiting cards at the gates of the Zhang, Wang, and Li families."

Yi Xun's spirits lifted at those words.

"Good! That's the qilin son of our Yi Family!"

Yi Zhanzhi raised his chin, his words brimming with youthful sharpness.

"As for that old bastard Yi Yang, let him refuse to know what's good for him."

"Clinging to those lousy fields in Three Trees Village-how's that any different from guarding the grass roots beside an ancestral grave?"

"People climb toward higher ground, but he insists on squatting in a mud pit and pretending he's above it all."

"Even wearing the Heaven Patrol Office's uniform, he's just an old man watching case files. When it comes to martial strength, fists are what count."

At the words "the Heaven Patrol Office's uniform," Yi Xun's cheek twitched. After yesterday's events, he had asked a friend to investigate and learned that the Heaven Patrol Office really did have someone named Yi Yang. That had left him brooding all night and hardened his resolve to mortgage the house so his grandson could secure an apprenticeship.

But the latter half of Yi Zhanzhi's words today made him feel much better.

That's right. Yi Yang may have become an official, but he has no men under him, no real authority, and he's old.

An official uniform can't hide the fact that he has no prospects in martial cultivation.

Yi Xun slapped the table. "Zhan Zhi, remember this: whether the Yi Family rises again rests entirely on you."

Yi Zhanzhi gripped the hilt of his saber.

"Grandpa, I won't lose."

Outside the window, the wind swept over the courtyard wall, whirling a few dry leaves into the air.

Yi Xun watched his grandson's straight back and forcibly suppressed the unease in his heart.

He had no idea that, elsewhere in the same town, outside the Heaven Patrol Office's Contribution Hall, Yi Yang was strolling toward the Archive Hall with two Minor Tendon-Refining Pills tucked inside his robes. His strength was about to soar.