Chapter 115

As soon as the box opened, a strong, pungent medicinal aroma burst out with a boom.

Inside lay three dry, withered wild ginseng roots, looking rather unimpressive.

Those who knew their stuff stared wide‑eyed, fixing their gaze on the rootlets, the crown, and the patterns.

"The Lin family presents three stalks of 350‑year‑old wild ginseng as a token of sincerity." Lin Feng lifted his chin high, his voice brimming with pride he could barely contain.

He even deliberately glanced at Zhang Jun, a clear provocation.

"Holy shit… three hundred years and up? Or three stalks?"

"The Lin family really went all out this time!"

"As expected of a medical clan, their foundation is deep…"

Below, a buzz of suppressed exclamations and discussion filled the air.

That move was truly formidable.

Qin Xiaotian's face remained unchanged, showing little reaction as he gave a slight nod.

Following that, Qin Yueyao also rose to her feet.

She didn't have anyone bring a large box; instead, she pulled a roll of dull‑yellow bamboo slips from an antiquated satchel she carried.

The slips were strung together with fine silk thread; the characters were in ancient seal script, many illegible, exuding an old, mysterious aura.

"The Qin family presents a sole surviving volume of the ancient text《Yao Wang Za Pian》." Qin Yueyao's voice remained calm: "After verification, this piece may be related to the lost alchemical methods of the Medicine Sect. Consider it a casting‑brick‑to‑attract‑jade gesture."

The Lin family's wild ginseng was solid, tangible wealth.

The Qin family's scroll hit a sore spot for many present—who wouldn't want to know a bit of the Medicine Sect's secrets?

"The Yao Wang Za Pian? Could it be the missing portion of the legendary medical sage Sun Simiao's manuscript?"

"With the Qin family holding this, they've probably pondered the Medicine Sect far deeper than we imagined!"

Many gazes at Qin Yueyao grew heated, tinged with calculation.

At that moment, a gloomy disturbance intruded.

"The Zhou family also prepared a modest gift."

Everyone turned toward the voice and saw a young man with a deathly pale face and deep‑set eyes rise.

He wore a black robe that clashed with the occasion, his whole person exuding heavy, gloomy yin energy.

He was the Zhou family branch member who had been tangled with Zhou Mu in Binhai before fleeing—Zhou Qian.

He cradled a black wooden box in his hands.

When the box opened, it held no gold, silver, or jade—just a yellow sheet covered in bloody‑red, crooked talismans.

As the talisman paper appeared, the hall's air seemed to drop a few degrees; a chilling, eerie feeling spread, making the back of one's neck tingle and the heart feel oppressive.

Zhang Jun and Lin Xue were very familiar with this aura.

"This is a Soul‑Sealing Talisman," Zhou Qian rasped, "supposedly it has a special effect on certain kinds of medicinal qi."

He spoke vaguely, yet many faces changed color.

"Soul‑Sealing Talisman"—just hearing the name tells you it's nothing good.

What does the Zhou family intend? To snatch the Medicine Sect's things with this evil device?

The atmosphere in the hall instantly turned strange and oppressive.

Qin Xiaotian's brow twitched anxiously, but he said nothing.

Afterward, a few other families presented their items—rare minerals, rubbings from ancient buildings—quite valuable, yet compared to the Lin, Qin, and Zhou families, they fell short.

Finally, it was Zhang Jun's table's turn.

In a swish, all eyes turned toward them.

Curiosity, scrutiny, contempt, anticipation of a show—every emotion was present.

The Binhai‑born over‑jiang‑long, the new boss of Zhengyang Technology who had crushed Baicaotang and even shown his face before the Qin family's young lady—what "sincerity" could he produce?

The result was something no one expected.

Zhang Jun—useless.

He didn't stand, nor pull anything from his pocket; he simply sat steady, lifted the tea cup before him, blew on its steam, as if this "display of sincerity" had nothing to do with him.

Lin Xue went even further—she didn't even lift an eyelid, gazing absently at the eaves outside the window, unaware which swallow was busy carrying mud.

Empty?

Now the hall fell completely silent.

So silent it made everyone feel uneasy.

"Pfft…" someone couldn't hold back and burst out laughing.

Lin Feng was the first to explode, as if he'd seized a huge joke, his face full of the gleeful expression of someone who loves a spectacle.

"Doctor Zhang, what do you mean? Are you looking down on these capital clans? Or… you simply have nothing to bring out?"

"Exactly, not even a token gesture, yet you still want to meddle with the Medicine Sect's artifacts?"

"Trying to get something for nothing, huh?"

"Where's the sincerity? I didn't see a trace!"

Voices of doubt and mockery rose at once.

Even a few elders who had stayed silent glanced at Zhang Jun with a hint of contempt.

"Rules are rules; having no attitude at all is too disrespectful to everyone."

Zhang Jun set down his tea cup, lifted his head, swept a glance over the faces—some genuine, some feigned—showing a hint of a smile.

"What you've brought out are indeed fine things, worth money."

He shifted his tone; though his voice wasn't loud, it reached everyone's ears clearly.

"But no matter how good the medicinal herbs, if no one can use them they're just display; no matter how profound the ancient texts, if no one can read they're just waste paper; as for certain talismans…" He glanced toward Zhou Qian's side, leaving his words unfinished, "Sincerity has arrived, yet I don't know whether this sincerity is aimed at saving people or harming them."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Lin Feng's face flushed red from holding it in, the few Qin family members beside Qin Yueyao also darkened their expressions, and Zhou Qian stared coldly at Zhang Jun, the chill in his gaze undisguised.

"True sincerity," Zhang Jun said, lightly tapping his finger on the table, "it's not about how much you bring out, but whether you have the ability to use that thing—and use it well."

"Well said!"

Qin Yueyao suddenly spoke up, her voice clear and bright, instantly breaking the deadlock.

Many people's gazes toward Zhang Jun shifted from earlier contempt to a thoughtful consideration.

Qin Xiaotian had been seated calmly at the fishing terrace all along; only now did he slowly open his mouth, his voice still steady: "Niece Yueyao speaks sense, and Young Friend Zhang's words have also enlightened us. The Medicine Sect's medicinal artifacts are ultimately meant to be used by people. Having sincerity but no ability is also futile."

His gaze swept over the entire hall, carrying an unquestionable authority: "If that's the case, then let's change the rules. In this second round, we won't compare family background, but rather ability. Whether it's a family‑passed secret art or a personal talent, medical skill or martial prowess—any of it can be displayed for all to see. In the end, who gets the precious cauldron will depend on who has the capability to hold the ground and make good use of it."

As his words fell, the atmosphere in the hall shifted abruptly. What had been only a covert contest was now laid out openly, demanding a genuine clash. The air seemed to acquire a hint of gunpowder, and many eyes brightened, eager to try.

"Good! The Qin Family Head's words are frank!"

"Whether it's a mule or a horse, you'll know once you take it out for a walk!"

The first one who couldn't hold back was still Lin Feng. He had just been countered by Zhang Jun with a neither‑soft‑nor‑hard remark, and then Qin Yueyao snatched the conversational lead, leaving him seething inside. Now that he had a chance to regain face, he wasn't about to let it slip.