Chapter 172: The Art of Disguise

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

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

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

Among these, the most popular and fastest-selling items were herbs and easily identifiable pills 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, people immediately asked its price.

The buyer sniffed the powder, his eyes brightening slightly; he recognized it as high-quality, its scent nearly identical to the premium golden wound powder sold in herb shops.

His gaze shifted to the other vials and he asked, "Are all these made by the same alchemist?"

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

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

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

The buyer froze, demanding, "Why?"

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

He objected, "I saw them first—I should get them. Good things should be kept for oneself. Why share them with others?"

"Because right now, these items belong to me, not you," Pan Yun said. "I say share, and they're shared. 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 from the Academy on Long Hushan, aren't you? Let me tell you, I know Zhang Yuanzhu, your academy's dean—"

"I have a grudge against Zhang Yuanzhu."

The buyer's eyes widened in shock; he stared at her again, then silently picked three vials.

Miao He immediately said, "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, accepting only the silver ingot. "Silver, or banknotes from the Four Major Banks."

The customer: …

Pan Yun studied his expression, then relented. "If you must pay with treasure notes, double the amount."

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

Pan Yun spread her hands. "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."

"If you don't exchange them, they're just paper. Shout it out—how many shops in Shangqing Town even accept treasure notes?"

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

Pan Yun didn't believe him for a second.

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

After the massive devaluation of treasure notes, the first victims were always the poor.

Could someone who'd been burned once forget?

Right now, treasure notes had almost no trust among the people. She believed 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 confused. "Little Master, if he wanted to buy, why not just sell him all of them?"

Pan Yun said, "If we only made this one sale, fine—but we'll be back next month, and the month after."

She added, "We won't always meet such generous customers. So this time, sell to more people. Once they've used the medicine and know it works, they'll come back."

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

Miao He suddenly understood.

Pan Yun glanced at her own unsold talismans and sighed. "There are too many talismans from Long Hushan. Making money from them is hard. Maybe I just haven't found the right way—I'll prepare some medicine next time."

Seeing Miao Zhen: "Me too."

Miao He: "I'll help you both."

"Miao He, now that you have money, buy some herbs to take back. Brew your own pills and powders, then bring them down to sell. Don't always scavenge from your classmates' assignments—we've learned so little medicine so far, it may not sell well."

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

Seeing Miao Zhen's face darkened. "Make less of it—you'll eat it all before you can sell any."

Pan Yun burst out laughing.

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

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

The middle-aged Daoist Priest picked five vials at once.

Pan Yun said, "Only three vials per person."

The Daoist Priest made no argument and simply selected three.

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

"Too expensive. Six."

Miao He's eyes widened. "You're cutting it in half? No way! Minimum twelve taels—that's our real price!"

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

Miao He looked torn. "Fine, I'll knock off one tael—eleven."

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

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

The middle-aged Daoist Priest took the medicine and left.

Pan Yun let out a soft hum. The black cat curled at her feet echoed it with a soft hum.

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

Pan Yun: "Nothing."

Miao He did not press further, but Seeing Miao Zhen frowned and asked, "Does our junior aunt also think that man's facial features seem odd?"

Pan Yun sighed softly, "Odd? It's more than that~~"

Just as she was about to elaborate, an old Daoist with a white beard strolled over, glanced at their stall's medicine bottles, and asked, "How much for these medicines?"

Miao He immediately greeted him warmly, "One person may buy only three bottles per day, prices vary—what medicines has the esteemed guest chosen?"

The old Daoist picked three bottles.

Miao He said, "Twenty taels!"

!

Pan Yun's eyes widened instantly; she swallowed her words and stared intently at the old Daoist.

The old Daoist stiffened; the price he intended to haggle down suddenly burned his tongue. He opened his mouth twice before tentatively offering, "Ten taels?"

Miao He shrugged generously, "Fifteen taels!"

The old Daoist sighed helplessly, "Let's meet halfway—twelve taels?"

"Fine!" Miao He nodded decisively, beaming, and reached to wrap them up.

Pan Yun reached out and pressed down on her hand, addressing the old Daoist, "You're going too far. You bought once already disguised—now you're coming back a third time?"

"Huh?" Miao He leaned forward to examine his face, barely discerning a hint of a young Daoist beneath the makeup. Her eyes widened. "H-he—he… they're the same person?"

The old Daoist stroked his beard and smiled, "What the eyes see isn't necessarily true. If your heart feels it isn't, then it isn't. Young Daoist, you've already quoted your price, and I've agreed—surely you won't renege?"

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

"You only said one person may buy three bottles per day. But I am the me of the day after tomorrow; the previous one was the me of tomorrow; only the first was today's me. So you haven't sold incorrectly."

Pan Yun: "Nonsense!"

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

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

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

Pan Yun: "How much?"

The old Daoist extended one finger.

Pan Yun considered, "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 and still be thrown on the ground. If you're not serious, don't quote a price."

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

As he spoke, he grew slightly uncertain.

Pan Yun said, "I'm merely curious, want to learn it—not to make money. Since it's not a formula that lays golden eggs, how could it possibly be worth so much?"

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

"Oh." Miao He handed him the medicine and extended her palm. "Don't come back again. My junior aunt can spot you—she just won't expose you."

Seeing Miao Zhen: "So your disguise technique isn't that good after all—my junior aunt saw through you at a glance."

The Daoist's eyes widened slightly, then he realized. "Wait—how did you recognize me?"

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

The Daoist grew anxious. "How did you recognize me so quickly? My disguise technique 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 stronger than they are. Don't believe me? Then your disguise technique has flaws."

The Daoist refused to admit his technique had flaws, yet he couldn't believe Pan Yun was as powerful as a top-tier expert. This logic forced him back to the conclusion: his technique must be flawed.

He frowned deeply, no longer wanting to buy medicine—only fixated on Pan Yun. "How did you recognize me?"

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

She was a Five-Sensory 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 technique that was flawed—but her innate talent?

Because the stall drew constant attention, others were drawn over to look.

Someone picked up a bottle, sniffed it, and found the medicinal scent stronger than that of pharmacy goods—so he bought it.

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

Seeing the medicine bottles nearly gone, the Daoist finally realized—he'd wasted too much time.

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

Pan Yun agreed instantly. "Fine. Tomorrow, same time, same place—we'll trade."

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

Pan Yun's expression didn't change. "My money's stored at the Academy—I don't carry it on 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. What is your name, Daoist?"

"Pan Yun."

(End of Chapter)