Chapter 11: Pill Cultivation Workshop Outlet (2/2)

“Don’t tell me that guy is an apprentice alchemist sent by the Sect’s Pill Cultivation Workshop?”

“He looks familiar…”

Discussions broke out on the plateau after Meng Hao revealed the flag. But after a bit of time passed, the fighting and robbing resumed. Blood showered and screams rang out.

Meng Hao’s eyes shone as he looked about at the people in the Public Zone. Not far off from him were two Cultivators of the second level of Qi Condensation, locked in combat, their eyes red. One of them had a shoulder sliced open by his opponent’s flying sword. Blood showered out, and he seemed to be in quite a difficult position.

“Brother, come here,” called out Meng Hao. “Brother, the sages said, it is unwise to risk one’s life when injured. You seem to be bleeding quite profusely from your shoulder. It won’t benefit you to let yourself be killed. I happen to have a Blood Coagulation pill here from the Pill Cultivation Workshop. It can heal all of the sword wounds on your body in less time than it takes to take three breaths.” As Meng Hao made his sales pitch, the two fighting men ignored him and continued to fight. The injured Cultivator’s eyes grew redder, and the wound on his shoulder grew worse. Then, blood poured from his chest as his opponent’s flying sword hit him again.

“Look, you got wounded again,” admonished Meng Hao of his first potential customer. “Quick, come buy a Blood Coagulation Pill! Otherwise, you might be defeated. All you have to do is give me one Spirit Stone, and I’ll give you the Blood Coagulation Pill. It’s definitely worth it.”

“Shut up,” roared the injured Cultivator, retreating a pace. “The Pill Cultivation Workshop is a rip-off, but they charge one Spirit Stone for five Blood Coagulation Pills. You’re even worse!”

“Ai, it’s not expensive. Your life is much more precious than a Spirit Stone. If you die, then all your Spirit Stones will belong to someone else. All you have to do is buy some of my medicine, and then you’ll have the chance to win and snatch your opponent’s bag of holding. All for the price of a single Spirit Stone. Is that expensive? You’re not buying medicine, you’re buying your own life.” Meng Hao stood. Perhaps his words had affected the wounded Cultivator. He struggled backwards a few paces, hesitation showing on his face.

“Dammit,” roared the man’s opponent, pointing his flying sword. “If you mess things up for me, then after I kill this guy I’ll come after you!”

“I’ll buy it!” said the injured man, slapping his bag of holding and producing a Spirit Stone which he shot toward Meng Hao. Meng Hao snatched it out of the air and tossed back a Blood Coagulation Pill. The Cultivator grabbed it and placed it onto his shoulder wound. It stopped bleeding almost immediately.

Refreshed, his spirit enlivened, he leaped back into the fight. Suddenly, his opponent retreated, blood flowing out from his wounded chest.

“Brother, Brother,” said Meng Hao, switching customers. “Your opponent bought one of my Blood Coagulation Pills and is now brimming with energy. I think if you don’t buy one as well, you will be facing much peril. I don’t just have Blood Coagulation Pills. I also have Skeletal Relaxation Pills to counter fatigue. I’ll give you one each for two Spirit Stones. That will guarantee you healing and plenty of energy. You’ll definitely be able to achieve victory.”

“You… you…” said the first man indignantly. He didn’t know what to say. Was this Pill Cultivation Workshop Outlet Pill boy here to help him or hurt him? He had just gone from a miserable situation to one of hope. Then, this happened. He attacked more incisively in his indignation. The scene playing out in front of him was exactly the same as when he had bought his medicine.

“If you win, then you’re actually spending someone else’s Spirit Stones on the medicine,” said Meng Hao enticingly, holding the medicinal pills in his hands. “It’s really worth it.”

“I’ll take it,” said the man who had already bought a pill.

“Dammit, give it to me,” said the Cultivator who had originally held the upper hand. Despite his hatred for Meng Hao, hearing the other man demand the medicine caused him to grit his teeth and open his mouth.

“I’ll give three Spirit Stones!”

“Brother, he’s offering three. If you can’t top that, I’ll have to give the medicine to him. Take care!”

“I’ll give four!”

“Brother, he’s offering four. Four!”

“Five!”

“Six!”

“Dammit. I give up. Die!” The Cultivator who had originally held the upper hand turned on Meng Hao, furious. At first, the battle had been quite simple. But once Meng Hao got involved, everything got complicated. He flew toward Meng Hao, murderous intent filling his face, clearly aiming to exterminate him.

As he neared, Meng Hao’s visage, meek, scholarly and business-like, suddenly changed, growing somber and stern. Just before the Cultivator reached him, he took a step forward, his right palm slapping forward. Spiritual energy poured out with a bang.

The Cultivator flew back with a shriek, overwhelmed by the spiritual energy of Meng Hao’s third level of Qi Condensation. The attack had struck him unconscious.

Meng Hao snatched his bag of holding, and then his somber, stern expression changed, and he was once again the weak scholar. All the onlookers were shocked.

“Brother, I believe you just offered me six Spirit Stones,” he said shyly, looking a bit embarrassed.

The other Cultivator's face paled, and his body trembled. He stared at Meng Hao with astonishment and terror. How could he ever have imagined that things would turn out this way? How could this apparently weak and feeble person have changed so much? It was almost as if what he had just witnessed was a dream.