Wild cultivation begins with wielding the Taiyin talisman.

Ning Che looked at Zhou Huaili.

"Why is that letter still on Chen Mu?"

Zhou Huaili sneered: "He didn't send it out, and you're asking me?"

"I didn't ask that."

Ning Che folded the letter and put it back in the envelope: "I'm asking, since Chen Mu has already been expelled from the party, why did you still ask Elder Qian to deliver it? Why didn't he come to see Song Changgeng himself?"

Zhou Huaili did not answer.

The front hall smelled strongly of medicine.

The patients queuing outside hadn't dispersed yet, peeking in cautiously. Some recognized Chen Mu, some didn't, but everyone heard those words. They could all see the ulterior motive, and immediately began to whisper among themselves.

Ning Che finished Zhou Huaili's sentence for him: "Because you won't let him see you."

Chaos erupted outside the hall.

"You won't even let your apprentice come back to see you, master?"

"And what's with all this talk about sentimentality? Two hundred thousand dollars is just a way to send a dead man away."

"Over the years, the price of medicines at Huichuntang has risen faster than the price of grains. This is where their confidence comes from."

Zhou Huaili suddenly turned around and flicked his sleeve.

"Shut up! Anyone who continues to gossip here will not be treated at Huichuntang from now on!"

These words are more effective than a knife.

The people who were just crowding at the door all fell silent.

Even the strongest person is afraid of their medicine cabinet closing when they are sick.

Zhao He raised the hand holding the knife, wishing he could prescribe a medicine for this Zhou guy on the spot, the medicine being "shut up".

Ning Che chuckled.

"How impressive!"

He turned around and looked at the doctors, apprentices, and accountants in the hall, as well as the people outside who dared not utter a sound.

"Everyone has heard this. From today onwards, I will set up a free clinic in Feihu City. Anyone who has been refused treatment by Huichuntang, cannot afford medical care, or cannot afford medicine is welcome to go there."

Zhou Huaili paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"You? A mountain guardian missing your right hand? Do you know medicine? Can you distinguish between Coptis chinensis and Scutellaria baicalensis?"

Ning Che answered readily.

"I don't understand."

Zhou Huaili laughed even louder, and even the young apprentice behind him twitched his lips in embarrassment.

Ke Ningche turned his head and looked at Old Qian behind the counter.

"Old Qian understands."

The laughter seemed to be cut off by a knife, and the hall fell silent. Everyone's eyes shifted between Ning Che and Old Qian.

Mr. Qian was holding that small scale.

This scale had been with him for many years; the edge of the pan was worn smooth, and there was a dent on the weight. He couldn't even remember how many poor people in Feihu City had taken the extra half-qian of medicine he had secretly taken.

Zhou Huaili stared at him.

"Mr. Qian, don't be confused."

Mr. Qian looked down at the scale.

After a while, he placed the scale on the counter.

"I'm getting old."

He said, "It's time to find another place to wait for death."

Upon hearing this, the faces of the pharmacists all changed.

Zhou Huaili slammed his hand on the counter, causing a corner of the medicine packet to fall apart.

"If you dare walk out this door, you won't get a single herb from Huichuntang!"

"Who cares?" Lin Ye crossed his arms and snorted. "Only your family in Feihu City has medicine? Do you think you're the Medicine King descended to earth, able to grow ginseng just by peeing?"

Zhao He couldn't help but almost burst out laughing, but then he felt it wasn't appropriate with Chen Mu still lying down. So he forced himself to hold it in, his face contorted with embarrassment.

Ning Che did not laugh.

He heard the key.

Source of medicine.

The Shi family lost access to Huichuntang's medicine supply.

In other words, most of the medicinal herb fields near Feihu City are connected to the Shi family.

The clinic dispenses medicine and treats illnesses, while the medicinal herb fields operate on a life-or-death basis. One operates openly, while the other stalks lives in the shadows. The people of Feihu City are caught in the middle; if they fall ill, they must pay upfront, and if they have no money, they might receive some leniency.

So what?

This leniency is nothing more than a pretext for better exploitation of them in the future.

This is a monopoly.

However, in this era, with cultivators still living, such situations are not unusual.

Zhou Huaili looked coldly at Ning Che, his expression one of superior condescension, carrying a disdainful air as if Ning Che were ignorant of his own limitations: "You want to go against the Shi family?"

Ning Che did not answer immediately.

He thought of Shi Bingzhu.

The Shi family in the mountains spoke up for him and even fought with Zhao Bantou to help him. The Shi family in the city, however, used a nine-year-old child to set rules.

The fruits of a tree can be sour or sweet, and that's generally true.

Ning Che said, "I don't oppose the Shi family; I only oppose those who don't treat people like human beings."

Zhou Huaili's smile faltered.

Someone outside the door muttered "Well said," then quickly retreated. I don't know who it was; they weren't very bold, but they certainly had a strong addiction.

Ning Che put the letter into his pocket.

"Now, take me to see Song Changgeng."

He does not receive visitors.

"Chen Mu is back."

Ning Che stepped aside, making way for the person on his back.

Chen Mu's head was lowered, and the mountain guard's clothes were completely dry, with mud from the rat swamp still clinging to the corners.

"His master should have seen him one last time."

Zhou Huaili's lips moved slightly.

This time, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

It wasn't that he had a change of heart, but rather that the number of people outside the door was increasing. After Ning Che announced that he would be holding a free clinic, some people were no longer so afraid of Huichuntang, and there was also a group of people who were just there to watch the excitement and joined in the commotion.

Patients, neighbors, peddlers carrying loads, an old man selling candy, and teenagers who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Huichuntang's storefront is right on the street, with its signboard hanging high. If it were to block the dead from seeing their master, their spines would probably be broken from behind.

Zhou Huaili didn't say a word, turned around and walked towards the backyard.

Ning Che carried Chen Mu on his back and followed.

Old Master Qian also stepped out from behind the counter. A young apprentice tried to stop him, but after being glanced at by him, he withdrew his hand.

This old man was usually slow and even found it difficult to cough when weighing medicine, but when it came to walking, he was quite decisive and could keep up with Zhou Huaili's pace.

The backyard was much quieter than the front yard.

Dust settled on the medicine shelf, several empty medicine jars lay overturned against the wall, and a broken wooden bucket sat by the well, its rim chipped. A few scattered herbs hung under the eaves, not yet dried.

Zhao He frowned as he looked at it.

Ning Che laughed and said, "The front of Huichun Hall looks quite grand, but how come the back is so dilapidated?"

Lin Ye scoffed: "What do you know? This is called health preservation. Living in hardship leads to a quick death and saves on medicine."

Old Qian glared at him.

Lin Ye shut up.

There is a small house at the very back.

The window paper was yellowed. Before even entering the room, I could hear coughing coming from inside, one cough after another, until eventually, he couldn't even catch his breath.

Zhou Huaili stood at the door, his face grim and silent. Old Qian stepped forward, his aged voice drawing out, "Song Changgeng—someone's here to see you—"

The coughing continued for a moment before a hoarse, middle-aged man's voice rang out: "Who is it?"

Ning Che carried Chen Mu on his back and pushed open the door to enter.

The room was dimly lit, the furniture was old and broken, and there was a faint odor.

On the bed, with his back to the window, sat a gaunt old man.

His white hair was disheveled, his right leg was covered with an old blanket, and his wrinkled hands rested limply on his knees, occasionally twitching. There was an empty bowl beside the bed, with half a drop of black medicine remaining at the bottom.

He froze when he saw the person on Ning Che's back: "Mu'er?"

It was still the voice of a middle-aged man, perhaps... he wasn't actually as old as he looked.