Chapter 104: Injured

"If it weren't for Master Qian's kindness and good nature, I wouldn't even want to sell my spirit talismans to him," Pan Yun said. "This is mutual benefit, understand?"

In her past life, when transactions were so easy and competitors so numerous, her spirit talismans were still in constant demand, selling for slightly higher prices than others'.

Countless shops had tried and failed to establish supply relationships with her; now, in this era, cultivation techniques were held by only a tiny fraction of people, resources were even scarcer, and by delivering her talismans to Master Qian, she was essentially giving him a free resource.

How could Master Qian not be delighted?

Exclusive supply, isn't that better?

Pan Yun went to the Qian household with absolute confidence, utterly unafraid, brimming with assurance, and with skin as thick as armor.

And the Qian household indeed welcomed her warmly.

Especially Qian Dahong—he ran out to greet her the moment a servant reported her arrival, bumping into the Qian steward who was already leading her inside.

The moment Pan Yun saw him, she asked: "Where's Master Qian?"

Qian Dahong smiled warmly. "Little Immortal, my father didn't know you were coming today—he went to Guangxin Prefecture to visit a friend yesterday and won't be back for another two days. Whatever you need, you can tell me."

Pan Yun smiled and asked: "Master Qian, did you distribute the talismans I gave you before?"

"Distributed, distributed—my relatives and friends were all extremely satisfied," Qian Dahong said. "That's why I'm here to request more talismans from you, Little Immortal. You know, our Qian family has many relatives and old acquaintances…"

"I know, I know," Pan Yun sat down in the main hall, sipped tea, then asked: "How many talismans does Master Qian want? Which kinds?"

Qian Dahong paused thoughtfully. "Thirty would be perfect—I'd like fifteen Peace Talismans and fifteen Wealth Talismans."

Pan Yun heard this, glanced at the money pouch at her waist, realized it couldn't possibly hold that many talismans, and reached into her sleeve.

Pretending to rummage inside her sleeve, she actually pulled out a large handful of talismans from her Spirit Realm space.

She knew that, under normal circumstances, Peace Talismans and Wealth Talismans were the most popular, so she painted the most of these two types.

Only when she grew tired of painting them did she paint others to refresh her mood.

The ones she pulled out were all Peace Talismans and Wealth Talismans.

She counted them—thirty-two in total.

Pan Yun was rigidly precise—she never gave one extra. So she pulled out two, carefully separated fifteen each, and handed them over.

Qian Dahong glanced at the two talismans in her hand, thought of the silver in his home, and ultimately didn't ask for all of them.

He accepted the talismans, his expression hesitant.

Pan Yun said: "Master Qian, rest assured—this is my Pan Yun brand. Every talisman has identical power. There's no watered-down stuff."

Qian Dahong relaxed, immediately bowed his hands in agreement, then asked softly: "Little Immortal, do you have any spirit talismans that can see spirits? Or must you personally come to the scene each time to perform rituals and paint them?"

Finally, someone asked about this talisman—Pan Yun grew excited. "Of course not! The reason I painted them on-site back then was simply because I hadn't prepared any Heaven's Eye Talismans in advance. Actually, you don't need Daoist Priests to be present—just stick up a Heaven's Eye Talisman, close your eyes, then open them again."

Qian Dahong immediately requested one. "I have a friend whose concubine died—he wants to see whether she's been reborn or still lingers beside him."

"Ah~" Pan Yun said with deep meaning. "No problem at all. But Heaven's Eye Talismans are different from others, so their price is a bit higher."

"How much for one?"

Pan Yun held up five fingers. "Fifty taels per talisman."

Qian Dahong: … This wasn't just a bit higher—it was more than double the price, enough to buy two and a half Peace Talismans.

But thinking of those who needed talismans, Qian Dahong gritted his teeth. "Little Immortal, I'll take two Heaven's Eye Talismans."

Pan Yun had stock on hand—all painted after the Sun Elder incident, especially when she grew tired of Peace and Wealth Talismans, she'd paint a couple extra for future needs.

After all, painting talismans with spiritual power still drained spiritual energy significantly. When traveling, it was better to be cautious.

Pan Yun pulled out two Heaven's Eye Talismans and handed them to him.

Qian Dahong took all the talismans, then went to prepare the money.

Wang Cong stared blankly at Pan Yun's sleeve. "Little Master, your sleeve is ridiculously capacious."

Pan Yun shook her sleeve. "Of course it is—I've got two sleeves."

Wang Xiaojing only perked up one ear for a moment—he had zero interest in this, so he quickly shifted attention to inspecting the Qian household's main hall, especially the porcelain.

He thought the two large floor vases beside him looked exquisite—their colors, glaze luster, even the patterns on them were beautiful.

He really wanted to get closer to look, but remembered they were guests, and came with Pan Yun—he couldn't act disrespectfully, so he stayed put.

But who was Pan Yun? She saw his thoughts at a glance and asked: "Like that big vase?"

Wang Xiaojing blushed and nodded. "When I helped my master at home, I rarely saw vases this large or this beautiful."

"If you want to see, go closer."

Pan Yun led him over.

Wang Xiaojing noticed she stood beside him, not moving, and the Qian steward standing nearby didn't stop him—he even smiled at him when he looked. Wang Xiaojing relaxed and examined the vase closely.

After a long while, Qian Dahong arrived with servants carrying three trays of silver.

Wang Xiaojing saw so much silver for the first time in his life—he was utterly stunned.

Pan Yun was startled too, but she clearly knew how much she'd earn on this trip, so she was mentally prepared.

But she hadn't expected Qian Dahong to give her so much silver cash.

Qian Dahong pulled eight silver notes from his sleeve. "Little Immortal, here are four hundred taels in silver notes, plus these three trays of silver—seven hundred taels total. Please count them."

Pan Yun took the notes, counted them, and nodded. "No issues at all."

Wang Cong, being a businessman, kept his composure—his surprise flashed and vanished.

He silently took the cloth bag from the Qian steward and carefully packed each silver ingot from the three trays, then handed it to Pan Yun.

Pan Yun pushed it back to him. "Hold it for me."

Pan Xiaohei grew tense, meowing frantically: "You sold too many! You shouldn't have sold so many!"

【Shut up. Don't you understand this is a rare opportunity? The statue's already been brought back. Next time we come to the county might be a month from now—I don't have that much time.】

Pan Yun felt a faint premonition, so she didn't linger longer at the Qian household—she immediately bowed and took her leave.

Qian Dahong warmly urged her to stay. "Stay for dinner—you don't have to rush."

"If we stay for dinner, we'll have to climb the mountain in the dark," Pan Yun insisted on leaving. Qian Dahong could only see her out.

Pan Yun let go of Wang Xiaojing's hand, then tilted his chin up to make him close his mouth. "Let's go. Home now."

Wang Cong came to his senses and said, "Little Uncle, let's buy some meat to take home—the younger disciples must be starving."

Pan Yun thought of Miaohe and nodded. The three of them led the donkey cart to the vegetable market.

The meat stall had lamb and pork; Wang Cong chose pork.

Most pork in Yushan County had been castrated—it tasted better and grew faster, and compared to lamb, everyone on Mount Sanqing preferred pork.

Pan Yun had made a fortune today and was especially generous; she waved her small hand. "I'll pay."

She walked toward the meat stall. The butcher was chopping bones, swung twice, and raised his knife for the third strike—when his hand flew upward, the blade plunged down hard, leaving only the handle in his grip. The blade shot through the air with a hiss. He screamed, pointing the handle at Pan Yun. "Get out of the way—"

"Meow—" Pan Xiaohei saw the flying knife, pushed off her shoulders with both hind legs, and bolted away first.

That cat was worse than a married couple—facing disaster, it fled without a second's hesitation.

Pan Yun didn't move a step. Behind her stood Wang Xiaojing, powerless to defend himself—how could she dodge?

She widened her eyes, fixed them on the blade, and summoned an invisible protective qi to envelop her body, while raising her hand to strike the falling knife.

She knew she probably couldn't knock it down—and indeed, though she poured strong qi into the strike and aimed squarely at the blade, it veered slightly midair; she only grazed its edge, lacking the force to knock it away.

Pan Yun subtly shifted her body and reached back to grab Wang Xiaojing.

!.

Wang Cong reacted quickly—he had seen Pan Yun's martial skill before, having watched her spar daily with his father and Fourth Uncle, so he wasn't worried about her.

But he'd also seen how unlucky his father used to be, so he swiftly reached out to grab Wang Xiaojing.

As long as no bystanders were hurt, even if they themselves got injured, it wouldn't be serious.

Wang Xiaojing was yanked behind Wang Cong with a hiss—just as the sharp cleaver, after being struck by Pan Yun, fell downward, pierced through her protective qi, sliced open her sleeve with a swish, cut her arm, then landed on the ground.

The butcher rushed over, reaching for Pan Yun but daring not to touch her, only flailing in panic. "Child, are you alright? Where are you hurt? Are you scared?"

The blade was sharp, the cut small—Pan Yun could feel it wasn't deep.

After a brief stillness, her skin immediately darkened with blood, then blood surged forth from the wound.

Seeing the blood, the butcher nearly wept—he was a man who slaughtered pigs, fierce-faced, yet now looked as pitiful as a three-year-old.

He shouted toward the house behind the stall. "Wife! Wife, come out quick! I've cut someone!"

Pan Yun pressed her hand against her arm to slow the bleeding.

Wang Cong immediately stepped forward, swiftly tearing open her sleeve, pulling out a vial of medicine from within, and sprinkling it onto the wound. He asked the butcher, "Do you have clean cotton or linen cloth?"

The butcher's wife burst out wielding a knife, shouting, "Who? Who's causing trouble at our stall?"

The butcher stamped his foot. "No trouble—it was me! The knife flew off while I was chopping bones and hit someone. Hurry, get clean linen and cotton, and send the kid to find a physician—quickly!"

Only then did the butcher's wife realize the victim was a child. Her eyes widened. She stamped her foot. "You fool! Pick up the child and take him to the clinic right now—why are you still looking for linen?"

The butcher agreed with his wife, grabbed Pan Yun, and sprinted toward the clinic.

He moved so fast Wang Cong couldn't react.

He hurried after him, shouting back to Wang Xiaojing, "Xiaojing, watch the donkey cart!"

Wang Xiaojing quickly tugged the donkey and turned to follow.

Everyone buying vegetables, buying meat, or passing by rushed after them to watch the spectacle.

This was too bizarre—they'd never seen anything so coincidental in all these years.

They had to see this spectacle.

The butcher carried Pan Yun running straight to the clinic, shouting before even entering. "Physician! Physician, save me! Physician—"

The physician inside panicked, thinking a disaster had struck, and rushed out—only to be knocked flying by the butcher's charge.

Physician: …

The butcher shouted, "Where's the physician? Where's the physician—"

"Here! Here!" The physician scrambled up, stars dancing before his eyes. "What's wrong with this child?"

"She was cut by my cleaver,"

The Shopkeeper behind the counter couldn't hold back either—he rushed out. "Where? Put her inside quickly, hurry, hurry!"

The physician's stars vanished instantly; he hurried after them, clutching his waist.

Wang Cong followed behind. "Wound on the arm—not deep, but the blade was dirty. The wound must be cleaned. Do you have Atractylodes water? Or strong liquor will do."

This sounded like an expert's words.

The Shopkeeper turned, recognized him. "Wang Cong, this is…"

Only then did he notice the child wore a Daoist robe—he understood.

Whether physician, Shopkeeper, or Wang Cong, all had decent medical skill—treating this minor arm wound was no challenge.

They had no Atractylodes water—but they did have strong liquor.

The physician washed the medicine powder and dirt from her wound with strong liquor, reapplied hemostatic powder, then wrapped her arm in breathable linen.

Pan Yun carefully examined it, confirmed the bleeding had stopped and no abnormal flow occurred, and relaxed.

It seemed the rule only made her suffer bad luck—not constantly.

Pan Yun exhaled, unregretful for keeping the money on herself. If she was going to test it, she'd test it fully.

The Shopkeeper looked at Wang Cong. "Prescribe medicine?"

Wang Cong shook his head. "No need."

"No way!" The butcher's wife panted as she arrived, clutching tightly the money bag she'd fetched from home. "How can you not prescribe medicine? He injured her—we'll pay for the medicine."

"Yes, yes, we'll pay," the butcher nodded frantically.

Wang Cong said, "No need—we have medicine at home."

"You having medicine is your business—we hurt someone, so we must give medicine. No excuses," the butcher's wife frowned at him. "Who are you to this child? Don't you dare ignore her because she's a girl—even if you pay, the money must go to her treatment."

Wang Cong: "... I'm her senior disciple-nephew. Both of you, we truly have medicine at home—and it's better than what's sold here. Ask the Shopkeeper—wasn't the powder just applied mine?"

The shopkeeper said, "Yes."

He said leisurely, "The Golden Sore Medicine from Sanqing Temple is famous far and wide. I say, Wang Cong, haven't I bought plenty of medicinal powder from your Sanqing Temple as well? So why is it that when your Sanqing Temple buys medicinal ingredients, you go to that pharmacy over there, and never come to my clinic? Is it because my medicine prices are too high? Or is it that the medicinal ingredients in my clinic aren't as good as theirs?"

The lucky number is any number ending in 1, screenshot as proof

(End of chapter)