Chapter 172: Disguise Technique

This street was called Immortal Street because both sides were lined with shops selling talismans, magical artifacts, elixirs, herbs, and other items related to Daoist cultivation.

Of course, there were also shops here selling paper offerings, coffins, and blacksmithing tools.

On market days, wandering cultivators would scramble to claim spots along the street, displaying and trading their own goods, much like a flea market.

Among these, the most popular and best-selling items were herbs and certain easily identifiable elixirs and powders.

For example, golden wound powder was the most sought-after, with a fixed price range—neither buyer nor seller ever got cheated or deceived.

So when Miao He laid out his golden wound powder, customers immediately asked its price.

The man sniffed the powder, his eyes brightening—he recognized it as high-quality, smelling nearly identical to the premium golden wound powder sold in pharmacies.

His gaze shifted to the other vials. "Are all these made by the same alchemist?"

Miao He nodded. "Yes, all made by the same alchemist."

The man immediately said, "I'll take them all!"

Miao He was delighted and moved to pack everything, but Pan Yun reached out to stop her. "No. One person may buy only three vials."

The man froze. "Why?"

"Because good things should be shared with more people—how can you hoard them all?" Pan Yun said. "Choose three. Which ones?"

He frowned. "I saw them first—I should get them all. Good things belong to the one who claims them. Why share with others?"

"Because these items are mine, not yours," Pan Yun replied. "I decide to share. When they're yours, then you may hoard them as you wish."

He narrowed his eyes, sizing her up. "Young cultivator, you're a student at the Long Hushan Academy, aren't you? Let me tell you—I know Zhang Yuanzhu of your academy well. I—"

"I have a grudge against Zhang Yuanzhu."

The man's eyes widened. He stared at her again, then silently picked three vials.

Miao He said at once, "Eight taels of silver."

He pulled out a five-tael silver ingot and three one-tael treasure notes.

Pan Yun pushed the treasure notes back. "Silver or banknotes from the Four Major Banks. Nothing else."

The customer: …

Pan Yun studied his expression, then relented. "If you insist on treasure notes, double the price."

The customer jumped up. "Are you robbing me? Six taels for treasure notes?"

Pan Yun shrugged. "What can I do? These notes are worthless. I'm not even sure any shop in town will exchange them. If they won't, I'd have to travel all the way to the county seat."

"You don't have to exchange them."

"Then they're just paper. Shout it out—how many shops in Shangqing Town accept treasure notes?"

The customer muttered under his breath, then counted out three one-tael banknotes. "I got scammed, didn't I? How was I supposed to know treasure notes weren't usable?"

Pan Yun didn't believe him for a second.

Anyone who came to a stall to shop, who picked carefully, wore worn shoes, and had calloused palms—clearly poor, like them. Would a poor man not know treasure notes were worthless?

After all, the first victims of massive treasure note depreciation were always the poor.

Could someone who'd been burned once forget?

Right now, treasure notes had almost no credibility among common folk. She suspected he'd come here deliberately to cheat them, thinking they were too young to know better.

Pan Yun rearranged the remaining vials. Miao He was puzzled. "Little Master, if he wanted to buy, why not just sell him all of it?"

Pan Yun said, "If we only made this one sale, fine. But we'll come again next month, and the month after."

"Not every day brings such a generous customer. So this time, sell to more people. When they try it and find it works, they'll come back."

"That way, we guarantee our herbs sell out every time. Relying on just one regular isn't safe—especially since we don't even know if he's a regular."

Miao He suddenly understood.

Pan Yun glanced at her own unsold talismans and sighed. "Long Hushan talismans are too common. It's hard to make money from them. Maybe I just haven't found the right way—I'll prepare some herbs next time."

Miao Zhen: "Me too."

Miao He: "I'll help you."

"Miao He, now that you have money, buy some herbs to take back. Brew your own medicines and elixirs. Next time, sell them yourself—don't always scavenge from your classmates' assignments. We've only learned a few herbs so far—they might not even sell well."

Miao He nodded. "My favorite medicine to make is Digestion Pills."

Miao Zhen's face darkened. "Make less. You won't even make enough to feed yourself."

Pan Yun burst out laughing.

Before her laughter faded, a middle-aged Daoist stopped before their stall. "Young cultivator, how much for these herbs?"

Pan Yun's laughter stopped. She glanced at him. "Which herb caught your eye?"

The middle-aged Daoist picked five vials at once.

Pan Yun said, "One person may buy only three vials."

The middle-aged Daoist didn't argue. He simply picked three.

Miao He happily calculated the price. "Twelve taels."

"Too expensive. Six."

Miao He's eyes bulged. "You're cutting it in half! No way! Minimum twelve taels—this is the real price!"

The middle-aged Daoist: "Nine! Young friend, look around this street—who doesn't haggle? You're being dishonest."

Miao He frowned. "Fine. Eleven."

"Ten. We both give a little. Round number."

Pan Yun was about to speak, but Miao He nodded first. "Fine. Ten." Pan Yun swallowed her words and watched silently as he pulled out the money.

The middle-aged Daoist took the herbs and left.

Pan Yun let out a soft hum. The black cat curled at her feet hummed too.

Miao He and Miao Zhen turned to her. "Master, what's wrong?"

Pan Yun: "Nothing."

Miao He didn't press. Miao Zhen frowned. "Little Master, you noticed something odd about his face too, didn't you?"

Pan Yun murmured, "Odd? It's more than that…"

She was about to elaborate when an old Daoist with a white beard strolled over, glanced at their vials, and asked, "How much for these herbs?"

Miao He immediately greeted him warmly. "One person, three vials per day. Prices vary. Which ones do you like?"

The old Daoist picked three vials.

Miao He said, "Twenty taels!"

!. ead

Pan Yun's eyes widened. She bit back her words and stared intently at the old Daoist.

The old Daoist stiffened. His planned haggling turned scalding on his tongue. He opened his mouth twice before tentatively offering, "Ten taels?"

Miao He shrugged generously. "Fifteen!"

The old Daoist sighed. "Let's meet halfway. Twelve?"

"Done!" Miao He nodded eagerly, already reaching to wrap them.

Pan Yun grabbed her hand and turned to the old Daoist. "You're going too far. You bought once already. Now you're back a second time. And now a third?"

"Huh?" Miao He leaned forward, squinting at his face. She barely caught a hint of a young Daoist's features. Her eyes widened. "He—he—he… they're the same person?"

The old Daoist stroked his beard and smiled. "What the eyes see isn't always true. If your heart says it's not, then it isn't. Young cultivator, you've quoted your price. I've agreed. You won't renege, will you?"

Miao He frowned, displeased. "You're the same person."

"You only said one person may buy three vials per day. I am tomorrow's me. The last one was yesterday's me. Only the first was today's me. So you didn't make a mistake."

Pan Yun: "Nonsense!"

"How can you say that? I've simply compressed three days into one. My time is tight—I must make one day count as three."

Pan Yun's gaze swept over him inch by inch. Suddenly, she leaned close and whispered, "Daoist, do you sell your disguise technique?"

The old Daoist glanced at her, paused, then said, "If the price is right, I'm willing to sell."

Pan Yun: "How much?"

The old Daoist held up one finger.

Pan Yun hesitated. "Ten taels?"

The old Daoist: "A thousand taels. Ten taels? What are you thinking?"

"A thousand taels? Do you know how much a house on Long Hushan costs?" Pan Yun scoffed. "This formula could buy ten houses—stacked on your head! If you're not serious, don't name a price."

The old Daoist bristled. "How am I not serious? This is a skill—a skill worth… ten houses?"

He trailed off, sounding uncertain.

Pan Yun said, "I'm just curious. I want to learn it—not to make money. If it's not a golden egg-laying formula, how could it be worth this much?"

She waved her hand. "If you're not serious, forget it. Miao He, give him the herbs."

"Oh." Miao He handed over the vials and extended her palm. "Don't come back. My little master can spot you—she just won't expose you."

Miao Zhen: "So your disguise technique isn't that good after all. My little master saw through you at a glance."

The Daoist's eyes widened. "Wait—how did you recognize me?"

Pan Yun: "I saw through you at a glance."

The Daoist panicked. "How? My disguise fools even top-tier martial experts!"

But she was a top-tier expert herself.

Pan Yun lifted her chin. "Then it only proves I'm even better. Don't believe me? Then your disguise has flaws."

The Daoist refused to admit his technique was flawed, yet he couldn't believe Pan Yun was as powerful as a top martial expert. The logic forced him back to the only conclusion: his disguise had problems.

He frowned tightly, no longer interested in buying herbs. He only pressed Pan Yun: "How did you recognize me?"

Pan Yun: "I recognized it at a glance."

She was a Five-Orifice Heart—she pierced all illusions. A mere disguise technique? If she couldn't see through it, how could she ever hope to survive?

Sigh, how could she tell him it wasn't his disguise technique that was flawed, but her innate talent?

Because the stall had always drawn a crowd, others were drawn to it as well.

Someone picked up the vial, sniffed it, and found the medicinal scent stronger than that of the apothecary's wares, so he paid and bought it.

Others were drawn to Pan Yun's talismans, haggled a bit, and bought them too.

The Daoist noticed the vial was nearly empty, and only then realized he had wasted too much time.

He paid for the medicine, paused for a moment, then said to Pan Yun: "One hundred taels. I'll sell you the disguise technique for one hundred taels."

Pan Yun agreed at once: "Fine. Tomorrow, same time, same place, we'll make the exchange."

The young man raised an eyebrow. "You don't have money on you now?"

Pan Yun's expression didn't change. "My money is stored at the Academy. I don't carry it with me—I must return to fetch it."

The young man lowered his gaze, thought for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. I am Chen Ziwu. May I ask your name, fellow cultivator?"

"Pan Yun."

(End of Chapter)