Martial Arts: My talent multiplier increased

Three days.

Fang Yuan sat on a bench in the workshop, with the last batch of finished products in front of him.

Seventeen powerful pills were neatly arranged on a wooden tray, their dark, glossy surfaces gleaming slightly oily in the morning light.

The inventory is almost gone.

Old Wang cut off the supply, Li Si disappeared, and the Li family cut off all the recyclable roots and scraps from the three medicinal herb fields outside the city. Without raw materials, the stone mortar and pestle in the workshop became mere decorations.

Fang Ping sat on the threshold, holding a piece of paper in his hand, on which he had crookedly written down the accounts for the past few days.

"At the mercenary guild, Brother Sun bought them all at two and a half taels each. Buyers were scrambling to get them; two mercenaries almost came to blows." Fang Ping flipped through the papers. "Seventeen pills, forty-two and a half taels in total. Adding that to what came before, the total is—"

"Six hundred and twenty taels."

Fang Yuan spoke for him.

Fang Ping closed his mouth, looking at Fang Yuan's profile, hesitant to speak.

Six hundred and twenty taels of silver. A month ago, this was an amount that even a member of the Fang family's collateral branch couldn't dream of scraping together. But now, with the medicine dregs gone and the sales channels cut off, this amount is frozen there, like a dry well.

Fang Yuan put the last Dali Pill into the bamboo tube and sealed it with wax.

"When will the next batch be released?" Fang Ping asked tentatively.

"It can't be released."

Fang Ping's face stiffened for a moment.

Fang Yuan stood up and locked the bamboo tube in the cabinet.

"The mercenary guild's inventory has told Brother Sun that the price has been raised to three taels per piece. No bargaining, take it or leave it."

Three ounces. That's three times the original price.

Fang Ping opened his mouth, but having followed Fang Yuan for so long, he knew he shouldn't ask why. Scarcity drives up prices; the less available, the higher the price. These last few weren't for making money; they were to whet the buyer's appetite.

As long as demand remains, distribution channels will never truly disappear.

"Go."

Fang Ping stood up, dusted off the threshold, and left.

Fang Yuan sat alone in the workshop for a while.

Six hundred and twenty taels.

The difference between 1,000 taels and 380 taels is still 380 taels.

With the original monthly income of four hundred taels, it would have been possible to raise the money in less than a month. Now, with the supply of medicinal residue cut off, two of the three main channels have been rendered useless, and the mercenary guild is barely holding on with its existing stock, unable to increase its output.

The answer is obvious without even doing the math—it's impossible to raise a thousand taels of silver in the short term by selling medicine alone.

But that's not all the troublesome part.

Fang Yuan's fingers slowly clenched on his knees.

He remembered Fang Shou'an's eyes that night very clearly. It wasn't about admitting defeat, but about changing tactics. People of this caliber never use just one move. The Li family's market manipulation was the overt method, but Fang Shou'an's internal manipulations within the family were the real dirty tricks.

He is waiting.

As Fang Shou'an's knife fell.

The knife fell faster than expected.

Just past noon, in the main hall of the Fang family.

The drums of the council of elders sounded three times in a dull thud.

Fang Yuan was not present—core disciples were not qualified to attend the elders' meeting, but the news spread extremely quickly. In less than half an hour, Fang Ping returned to the Grade A courtyard with the latest intelligence.

"Fang Shouan made a proposal." Fang Ping was panting, his forehead covered in sweat.

Fang Yuan sat on a chair in the main room, with a bowl of unfinished blood and qi soup beside him.

"explain."

"The proposal is called the 'Family Reputation Management Ordinance.' The core clause is just one: those who hold the core token are not allowed to engage in business activities without the family's authorization. Violators will have their tokens revoked and be expelled from the Grade A compound."

Fang Yuan didn't move his hand holding the bowl.

"Who seconded it?"

"Third Elder Fang Shoude was the first to second the motion."

As expected. Fang Shoude is Fang Teng's grandfather. Just a few days ago, Fang Teng publicly tested him on the martial arts stage. The old man and the young man are performing the same play.

"Where is the Second Elder?"

"Fang Shou-zheng objected. He said the proposal lacked basis, there was no precedent for core members of the family engaging in commercial activities in violation of regulations, and legislation could not be temporarily enacted to target individuals."

Fang Shouzhen. The one who personally described him as "impeccable" during the assessment. Fang Yuan remembered this favor.

"The Grand Elder?"

Fang Ping scratched his head: "Fang Shouye hasn't made a statement, saying he wants to see more facts."

The old fox. Fang Shouye was waiting to see which way the family head would lean; whoever revealed their hand first, he would side with.

"What did the head of the family say?"

Fang Ping took a deep breath, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"The head of the family has made a decision."

Fang Yuan's finger stopped on the rim of the bowl.

"The proposal has been rejected. The core members of the family are allowed to engage in business."

Fang Ping's voice first showed a sigh of relief, then tightened again.

"However—20% of all income must be paid to the family."

Two percent.

Fang Yuan placed the bowl on the table, the bottom of the bowl hitting the tabletop with a soft sound.

Fang Zhengkun's cut was precise.

It's not prohibited, but a blood test is required.

On the surface, it was to protect Fang Yuan's business rights and silence Fang Shou'an. In reality, the patriarch was using money to rein in Fang Yuan. The more you earn, the more the family takes, and the more dependent you become on the Fang family's support.

Politically perfect—the Fourth Elder's proposal was rejected, giving Fang Yuan ample face. However, with the 20% commission added, Fang Yuan's already halved income was further reduced.

Fang Shouan's knife didn't stab him, but Fang Zhengkun's rope tightened around him.

Fang Ping stood there, looking at Fang Yuan's expression, not daring to say a word.

Fang Yuan remained silent for more than ten breaths.

Then he took out a piece of scrap paper, picked up a pen from the table, and began to calculate.

Fang Ping watched from the side.

Fang Yuan's strokes are very heavy, and each number is embedded in the paper.

The era of earning four hundred taels a month is over. With the supply of medicinal residue cut off and two out of three channels rendered useless, the mercenary guild can't survive for more than a few days on its existing stock. Even if production resumes, income will hardly return to its peak.

Optimistically, I can expect to earn 200 taels of silver per month after recovery.

After deducting 20% ​​of the family's share, 160 taels remain.

After deducting the cost of medicinal materials, Fang Ping's errand fee, and necessary expenses, the net income did not exceed one hundred and twenty taels.

There are still 380 taels short of 1,000 taels.

Three hundred and eighty divided by one hundred and twenty.

More than three months.

More than three months.

Fang Yuan put down his pen and stared at the number on the paper.

Li Jue wouldn't give him such a long breathing space, which was more than three months away. The Li family could block the channels today, cut off the medicinal herbs tomorrow, and who knows where they might strike the day after. Every extra day that dragged on, the more uncertainties would arise.

Relying solely on selling medicine is no longer viable.

We need to open a second road.

Fang Yuan folded the scrap paper and tucked it into his sleeve.

He walked to the innermost shelf in the workshop, squatted down, and took out a sealed pottery jar from the bottom shelf.

Upon opening the lid, you'll find eight pills inside, each a shade lighter than the previous one.

This is an experimental product he made a couple of days ago using leftover medicinal dregs. The formula was adjusted, removing the two most expensive auxiliary ingredients and using processing techniques to compensate for the loss of medicinal properties. The effect is 20% weaker than the standard version of the powerful pill, but the cost has been reduced to less than half a qian of silver per pill.

Priced at five qian each, the profit margin is still considerable.

This batch of goods isn't urgent to ship. Let's store it first and distribute it once the new distribution channels are established.

Fang Yuan resealed the pottery jar and his gaze fell on the shelf next to him.

On the middle shelf, a wooden box with a brass lock sat quietly.

He reached out and took the wooden box down, unlocking it.

Inside the box lay a folded piece of paper.

Fang Yuan unfolded the paper and laid it out on the table.