Chapter 55: A Convenient Formula

Wang Feiyin immediately revised the schedule and began teaching them lightness techniques the next day.

When Tao Ji and Tao Yanbai returned to the mountain, they saw Pan Yun and Miao Zhen stepping the Seven Stars Pace at the mountain gate, occasionally colliding into each other;

Beside them, Miao He had sandbags tied to her calves, running from one end to the other, sprinting all the way to the alchemy chamber, then dashing back again.

Oh, the alchemy chamber on Mount Sanqing was some distance from the mountain gate, separated by a bamboo grove, roughly five to six hundred meters apart—one at one end of the mountaintop plateau, the other at the opposite end.

It wasn’t that there was no open space near the mountain gate; after all, the mountain gate itself had a vast expanse of open ground—but this was designated for cultivation practice.

More importantly, alchemy inevitably involved accidents; to prevent the alchemy chamber from affecting the temple, it had been deliberately built far away.

So they built three rooms on the other side of the mountain, near the Dan Well: Wang Feiyin and Tao Ji each took one, and the third, in the farthest corner, was for other disciples to study and practice.

Miao He now carried dried and prepared herb bundles, sprinting swiftly to the alchemy chamber to drop them off, then rushing back again, repeating the cycle.

It trained her cultivation while also accomplishing practical tasks.

Wang Feiyin, sitting on a stone and swaying lazily with a small bamboo stick in hand, was pleased with the children’s diligence; seeing his junior brother return, he raised the stick and said, “Third brother’s back?”

Tao Ji watched his disciple dash past him in a blur, speechless for a long moment: “Big brother, what technique is Miao He practicing?”

Wang Feiyin pulled out the cultivation method Pan Yun had written from memory the night before and showed it to him: “Fifth sister found her a perfect lightness technique—Shadow Step. Take a look.”

Tao Ji skimmed through it at a glance, before he could voice any opinion, Miao He zipped back, stopping abruptly beside him with a cheerful cry: “Big Master, I’ve finished fifty laps!”

Wang Feiyin chuckled and nodded. “Good, good, good. Now go stretch your legs and rest. Your master’s back—go learn medicine from him.”

Tao Ji dragged Miao He off.

Miao He didn’t really want to leave; she wanted to stay with her little aunt Miao Zhen.

Pan Yun and Miao Zhen were lost in the subtleties of the Seven Stars Pace; everyone else had vanished from their minds until their stomachs growled loudly.

They snapped out of their deep practice, walked to the back courtyard, and saw Tao Ji dumping herbs—surprised: “Third brother, when did you get back?”

Tao Ji stared at them silently for a long while, then nodded. “Good. I can see you’re serious. Keep it up next time.”

Tao Yanbai: “Little aunt, we didn’t just walk past you—we stood beside you and talked with Big Master for a long time, and you didn’t notice at all?”

Pan Yun and Miao Zhen shook their heads together. “Didn’t notice at all.”

Tao Ji: “Enough. Yanbai boiled noodles. Eat first. This afternoon, you’ll learn herb preparation with me.”

As disciples of Mount Sanqing, no matter which specialty they pursued, they had to know herb gathering, preparation, basic acupuncture, and prescribing for common illnesses.

Of course, this wasn’t their professional expertise—it was their basic knowledge.

After eating, Tao Ji took them to the open ground before the alchemy chamber with yesterday’s gathered herbs.

He brought out two large wooden basins.

The Dan Well was right beside them; Tao Yanbai went to fetch water, while Tao Ji guided the three girls in washing the magnolia bark, rinsing it clean, slicing it into strips, and spreading it on a giant bamboo sieve to drain. Once drained, they carefully transferred it to small drying racks.

Citrus aurantium was prepared the same way.

By the time seven and a half of the ten herb-drying racks before the alchemy chamber were filled, yesterday’s harvest was finally processed.

The three then recited the herbal prescriptions and case records they’d memorized yesterday, over and over again.

If they misstated a single character, Tao Ji would smack their head sharply—severely.

Pan Yun felt she would never forget magnolia bark or citrus aurantium, nor the prescriptions and elixirs involving them.

But this wasn’t the end—it was only the beginning. Every time they went out to gather herbs, they had to recite the properties, preparation methods, prescriptions, elixirs, and illnesses treated by each herb.

Recently, it was precisely the season for stripping magnolia bark and collecting citrus aurantium; in their alchemy chamber alone, the prepared magnolia bark and citrus aurantium already filled four sacks.

Not to mention the other herbs they’d gathered—deer tongue grass, peucedanum, eucommia, ligustrum, and cloud mist herb—piled high, filling half the room.

Pan Yun now felt terrifyingly strong: she could identify so many herbs, knew how to harvest them, understood their preferred growing environments, could prepare them, and knew their prescriptions and corresponding illnesses.

If you gave her a machine to examine the human body, she could diagnose patients and write prescriptions right away.

Oh, this world had no such machines—illnesses could only be diagnosed through observation, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking.

No matter. She felt that with her current learning pace, none of this was a problem. Pulse-taking and observation? She could master those in minutes.

She could even make talisman paper now—what couldn’t she do?

Indeed, Pan Yun had recently been forced to learn a new skill: making talisman paper!

The mountain had run out of talisman paper, and Tao Ji had no patients lately, so he rarely went down the mountain; thus, Xuan Miao emerged from seclusion to guide them in making talisman paper.

Gather materials, boil, pound, soak, pound again, soak again…

Until sieving, drying—failures kept coming, so they kept trying…

By the time Pan Yun and the others could independently produce qualified talisman paper, a corner of the alchemy chamber was filled with stacks of yellow paper.

And Pan Yun didn’t just learn to make talisman paper—she also crafted from the failed batches a softer, waterproof paper better suited for the toilet.

Wang Feiyin, who had been waiting for them to produce suitable writing paper, sighed and looked away. “I thought the mountain might gain some extra income.”

Pan Yun wrote down the derived formula, blew on the drying ink, and said: “Who says toilet paper can’t bring in income?”

Wang Feiyin: “Because people can substitute toilet paper with other things—they’re willing to endure discomfort on their backsides, but won’t compromise their children’s reading. They’ll spend twenty cash on a ream of writing paper, or eighty cash on a ream of coarse Xuan paper—but who’d pay twenty cash for your ream of toilet paper?” Pan Yun: …

Pan Yun protested: “My paper’s cheap. Twenty cash too much? What about five?”

Wang Feiyin stared. “Five cash a ream?”

Pan Yun: “Five cash a jin!”

Who ever sold paper by the jin?

Pan Yun did.

She weighed out one jin, calculated the profit, and declared: “I’ll take this one jin down the mountain and sell the formula.”

Wang Feiyin: “You’re selling the formula?”

Pan Yun: “If we don’t sell the formula, who else will run this business?”

Wang Feiyin thought about it—he was right. Who on the mountain had time for this?

Everyone was busy cultivating and studying.

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Hearing she wouldn’t have to run the business herself, Wang Feiyin relaxed immediately and asked eagerly: “How much do you plan to sell it for?”

Pan Yun consulted him: “Big brother, what do you think it’s worth?”

Wang Feiyin looked troubled. “I don’t know the market price.”

The two siblings haggled for a long while. Pan Yun, with her limited knowledge, opened at “five hundred taels.” Wang Feiyin thought it too high: “Too expensive. What if they won’t even bargain? Let’s start at three hundred, let them haggle down to two hundred.”

“Two hundred?” Pan Yun objected. “Does my formula only worth two hundred taels in your eyes?”

Wang Feiyin: “About that. It’s just a toilet paper formula—how much profit can it make?”

Pan Yun snorted. “Wait till I take it down and sell it—you’ll see.”

Wang Feiyin shouted: “Go! Go tomorrow! If you sell it for more than two hundred taels, I won’t take a single copper—every extra coin is yours.”

Wang Feiyin told Tao Ji and Xuan Miao to take them down to Yushan County the next day.

Miao He, who was training, rolled happily on the ground at the news. She didn’t care about the money—she had plenty already, enough to buy many treats. What mattered was going to Yushan County.

Pan Yun asked Wang Feiyin: “Big brother, aren’t you coming?”

“I have to stay and guard the temple.”

The next day, six disciples and one cat from the temple each carried or shouldered heavy loads; even Pan Xiao He had to walk down the mountain herself—no one had the strength or space to carry her.

Pan Yun carried two sacks, with Miao He and Miao Zhen following behind; ahead walked Tao Yanbai—all four carried two sacks each.

Tao Ji and Xuan Miao each carried six cloth sacks, completely blocking their view, forcing them to keep their heads down.

During a rest break, Pan Yun asked Tao Ji: “Big brother doesn’t go down the mountain just because he has to carry sacks, does he?”

Tao Ji, quick to speak, replied: “No—he can’t easily leave the mountain.”

Pan Yun: “Why?”

Tao Ji realized he’d said too much and clammed up immediately.

Xuan Miao cut off her probing: “When you’re older, we’ll tell you.”

That shut her up. Pan Yun stopped asking.

Once they reached the foot of the mountain, things improved—the temple’s donkey was still kept in the village, along with the cart.

Tao Ji went to the fields to fetch the donkey from the Wang family, patted its fat belly, and said: “They’ve really taken good care of this donkey.”

Satisfied, he harnessed it, loaded all the herbs onto the cart, and drove them toward Yushan County.

Tao Ji felt sorry for the donkey—it was already overloaded, so he forbade anyone from riding.

The children didn’t mind; they were just thrilled to be off the mountain.

Tao Yanbai knew the way to Yushan County well, so he led the way, introducing the villages and roads along the route.

This was Pan Yun’s first visit to Yushan County—she was in high spirits.

Her good mood lasted until she and Tao Ji stepped out of the bookstore.

The secret formula in her arms had been sold—she now held five small silver notes.

Miao He and Miao Zhen waited outside; as soon as they saw her, they rushed over, eyes wide with anticipation: “How much did you get?”

Pan Yun held up five fingers.

Miao He’s eyes bulged. “Five hundred taels! You really sold it for five hundred taels!”

Pan Yun: “Fifty taels.”

The lucky number is any number ending in 8, screenshot as proof

(End of Chapter)