My Years as a Menace in the Sect

Just one day after Shen Qingyao uttered those words, Wei Ping'an slipped out of the back door of the medicine testing hall before dawn, carrying three pills. He crouched low and made his way to the hidden ditch in the back mountain, intending to move his belongings to another location.

The three batches of meatballs I made a few days ago are drying in the house, but I don't feel at ease with them. Deacon Sun's men have been showing up more and more often lately. If they break in and search the place one day, all our possessions will be confiscated. Hiding them in the sewer will at least be safer.

The culvert is hidden under the earthen slope behind the quarry. It was an old ditch dug in the early years to drain medicinal residue. It was later abandoned, and the opening was covered by withered branches and rotten leaves. It was very remote, and generally no one came here.

He squatted at the entrance of the cave, rummaging through the dead branches. His fingertips had just touched the topmost broken branch when he suddenly stopped.

No, that's not right. The dry branches he laid down before leaving were haphazardly piled up, with the top thorny bramble leaning to the left.

The thorn branch is now pointing to the right, and the broken end still has fresh green stubble, indicating that someone has touched it.

His heart sank, and the oil paper package in his arms almost slipped out of his hands. He took two steps back, his back pressed against the cold earthen slope, his hand already reaching for the itching powder in his arms, his eyes quickly scanning the surroundings.

The woods were quiet, save for the rustling of pine needles in the morning breeze. There wasn't even a bird chirping, and not a soul in sight. I crouched down and examined the ground closely. Three or four dead branches were broken, the cuts fresh, indicating they had been stepped on and broken within the day.

The faint footprints on the ground had been swept away with loose soil, so deliberately that not even a single blade of grass was left. Someone had been here, and that person didn't want to leave a trace.

Wei Ping'an squatted in the grass, going over each suspicious person one by one. Shen Qingyao was impossible; she knew this place and could have come directly without needing to sneak around digging at the entrance. Deacon Sun's men were also suspicious; if they had truly discovered the culvert, they would have surrounded it with men long ago, not just broken a few branches and left.

It couldn't be Old Man Zheng, could it? The old man is usually elusive, but if we really found him, we could just ask him inside the house. There's no need for him to come all the way to the back of the mountain to dig up the haystack.

He gritted his teeth, checked that no one was around, quickly pushed aside the dead branches, squeezed inside, placed the three pills one by one into the recessed stone platform in the stone wall, covered them with oil paper, and quickly crawled out in less than half an incense stick's time.

He squatted down and laid down the dead branches again, even more tightly than before, pressing them down in three layers, crisscrossing horizontally and vertically, and scattering handfuls of soil and pine needles here and there, making it look exactly like a natural accumulation.

He patted the dirt off his hands, and the unease in his heart took root like a seed.

When he crawled into the culvert, he originally wanted to take a sip of the meatball first to try it, but the sight of the withered branch scared him so much that his fear of death instantly kicked in.

No, I can't try it myself. What if someone's watching me and something goes wrong while I'm testing the drug? Besides, every medicine has some degree of toxicity. If I really get sick from it, no one will hear me even if I scream my lungs out in this sewer.

He squatted down on the narrow stone platform, with three round pills in front of him and a palm-sized oil lamp at his feet. A draft of wind from the canal entrance made the flame flicker.

He stared at the three pills, extending his fingers and then withdrawing them, muttering to himself: "The one on the left, made of fire-controlling stone, is potent enough for a robust person; the one on the right, made of white atractylodes root, is stable enough for a weaker person; the one in the middle with the golden threads is the most uncertain and should be tried last." Wang Dashan was out of the question; his senior brother always secretly gave him mixed grain cakes, and he felt guilty about it. Zhao Sipang was even worse; his mouth was bigger than a sieve, and he could shout throughout the entire Dan Peak the moment he ate a pill. Zhang Erpang was indeed robust and resilient, but he hadn't yet received the two ounces of spirit stones he won in the last small competition, and letting him test the pills might make him think he was deliberately seeking revenge.

"How about I bite off a tiny piece, about the size of a millet grain?" She poked at the golden ball in the middle with her fingertip, but recoiled as if burned the skin. The black iron pot against her back felt icy cold against her spine. No, no, Dad said my life is the most important thing.

After agonizing over this for half an hour, using up almost half a lamp's worth of oil, he still hadn't decided on a candidate. Finally, he slapped his thigh and decided to try his luck at the medicinal cuisine kitchen. Firstly, Zhang Erpang was working there, so he could sound him out. Secondly, Shen Qingyao said she happened to run into Steward Sun while picking purple-backed grass at the medicinal cuisine kitchen today, so he could ask how strict the checks were.

The morning mist hadn't yet dissipated, and dew clung to the damp grass along the mountain path. He walked stealthily, like a thief, constantly watching his surroundings. Just as he turned into the slope behind the medicinal kitchen, he saw a figure in moon-white crouching on the sunny grassy slope. With a high ponytail and wearing short, moon-white clothes, she held a small medicinal hoe and was digging at the grass. It was none other than Shen Qingyao.

He really did come to pick purple-backed grass. He paused, hesitating whether to go over and greet her, when Shen Qingyao, having heard the commotion, looked up: "What are you doing here? Picking up scraps again?"

"Just passing by," he said, squatting down beside her to look at the small half-filled basket of purple-backed grass in her bamboo basket. "Senior Sister Shen, you're really here to collect herbs? I thought you were just saying that casually the other day."

"The alchemy is missing one auxiliary ingredient."

Shen Qingyao lowered her head and continued digging. "Deacon Sun sent more people to patrol the back mountain yesterday. They've circled the waste pile three times already. You should keep a low profile lately and don't go near it." Wei Ping'an's heart skipped a beat. Luckily, he hadn't gone to the waste pile today.

"I understand, thank you for reminding me, Senior Sister Shen." After a pause, she asked, "By the way, Senior Sister, I tried adjusting the proportion of Bletilla striata root you mentioned last time, but it still feels a little off..."

Figure it out yourself.

Shen Qingyao didn't even look up. "I've given you the prescription, but you'll have to practice on your own." She added, "Don't test it on yourself. Waste pills and dregs have mixed medicinal properties, so be careful." After saying that, she finished digging up the last plant, picked up her basket, and stood up to leave. Her ponytail swayed twice in the morning mist before disappearing around the corner.

Wei Ping'an squatted down, scratched the back of his head, brushed the dirt off his pants, and turned to walk into the courtyard of the medicinal cuisine room.

Sure enough, Zhang Erpang was in the yard, squatting in a corner struggling with a basket of muddy yams, his head and face covered in mud. Wei Ping'an walked over, squatted down next to him without a word, picked up a yam and helped him wipe off the mud, being as obedient as a junior apprentice doing odd jobs.

After stacking seven or eight stalks into the basket, Zhang Erpang finally couldn't help but stop and glance at him sideways: "Brother Wei, why are you so diligent today? If you need something, just say so. This is making me uneasy. I always feel like you're going to sell me for spirit stones."

"How could that be, Senior Brother Erpang?" Wei Ping'an said innocently. "I was just passing by and saw you were busy, so I came to lend a hand. Do you think I'm the kind of person who only comes to your door when I need something?"

Zhang Erpang tapped his face with his muddy fingers: "You are. Every time you give me that honest look, you're always about to scam someone. Last time you smiled like that and won two ounces of spirit stones from me. I remember that."

Wei Ping'an's smile froze for a moment, then he quickly changed to a more earnest expression: "I really didn't mean to trick you. It's just that I noticed you seem to be stuck at the second level of your cultivation lately, so I happened to get some good stuff and was thinking of asking if you wanted to use it. It's great news, absolutely great news!"

Zhang Erpang looked at him suspiciously for a long time: "What good stuff? I don't eat anything from unorthodox methods. If I get sick from it, I'll blame you for the rest of my life and come to your medicine testing hall every day to get the spirit rice porridge with brown sugar."

"How could it be a heretical or unorthodox method?"

Wei Ping'an looked around to make sure no one was watching, then quietly took out an oil paper packet from his pocket. It contained the one with the most stable medicinal properties and the most abundant Bletilla striata roots.

"These are Qi-Nourishing Pills that I asked a senior brother I know well at Danfeng to get for me. They're a proper formula, just a bit of a poor quality. After taking them, the Qi in my dantian flows much faster and more steadily. I've already taken three myself, and look how lively and energetic I am!"

Zhang Erpang took the oiled paper and smelled it. It had a faint herbal scent, without any strange smell or pungent odor. He hesitated for a moment, but in the end, curiosity and the desire to improve his cultivation level prevailed. He had been stuck at the mid-stage of the second level of Qi Refining for almost two months and was extremely anxious.

"Does it really work?"

"I'm lying to you. Next month's drug trials will only contain the most bitter and useless pills."

Zhang Erpang stared at him for several breaths before finally slapping his thigh: "I'll keep my word this time! If I get sick from eating it, you have to treat me to a month's worth of spirit rice porridge with brown sugar!" Wei Ping'an readily agreed, but secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Zhang Erpang crushed the pills, mixed them with half a bowl of warm water, tilted his head back, and gulped it down. After finishing, he even wiped his mouth. Wei Ping'an squatted beside him, staring intently at his face, his heart pounding, and a jumble of thoughts popping into his head.

After waiting for about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Zhang Erpang suddenly exclaimed "Eh!" He looked down at his hand and then touched his stomach: "It seems like there really is a little... My dantian feels warm, like something is slowly turning. It used to take forever to turn around, but now it seems to be faster?"

"Feel it carefully, has the area that was stuck before loosened a bit?" Wei Ping'an quickly moved closer, his eyes even brighter than the person involved.

"It seems so. My lower back always felt congested before, but it seems a bit better now. These pills are great! Which senior brother did you get them from? Do you have any more? Give me two more and I'll give you spirit stones!"

"That's all, just one left," Wei Ping'an patted his bottom, stood up, and suppressed a smile. "Next time I run into that senior brother, I'll ask him if he has any more. Don't tell anyone, okay? People who secretly spared some will be punished if word gets out."

"I know, I know I keep my mouth shut!" Zhang Erpang patted his chest and assured him.

Wei Ping'an turned and left, but almost burst out laughing as soon as he stepped out of the courtyard of the medicinal kitchen. He held it in all the way, his shoulders shaking, until he finally bent over, covered his mouth, and chuckled so hard he was practically pounding the stone wall. It worked! His pills really did work!

He squatted on the stone platform and rearranged the three pills, his mind racing with calculations. Since even one pill was effective, others would definitely come to him to buy them. He would then control the distribution channels and sell them discreetly, not only allowing him to use the pills to practice his skills but also earning spirit stones and building goodwill.

Once he's accumulated enough spirit stones and built up a wide network of connections, even Steward Sun will have to think twice before trying to harm him. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. He got up and paced back and forth. The space in the dark ditch was narrow, and after taking a few steps, he bumped into the stone wall with a thud. He didn't care, squatted back down, picked up the golden silk pill in the middle, and examined it again and again. His mind was filled with thoughts of spirit stones and medicinal herbs.

It was already dusk when he emerged from the culvert, the setting sun casting long shadows on the mountains. He walked along the path towards the medicine testing hall, humming a folk tune from Daliu Village. But he suddenly stopped in his tracks as soon as he reached the entrance of the hall's courtyard.

The courtyard gate was ajar, and a dim light shone through the crack. Old Zheng usually turned off the lights after dark, so why were they still on today? Moreover, the light and shadows were flickering, as if there were more than one person moving around inside. He tiptoed along the wall to the window, held his breath, and listened intently into the house.

Two people were talking inside the room, their voices very low, barely audible through the paper window. One was Old Man Zheng, speaking calmly and casually, while the other's voice was hoarse and harsh, suggesting ill intent.

The unfamiliar voice said, "The duty of the Medicine Testing Hall is to test medicines, not to hoard medicinal ingredients. Deacon Sun has already sent a note that the waste pile on the back mountain has been disturbed several times recently, and someone saw a figure coming from the direction of the Medicine Testing Hall."

Wei Ping'an's heart jumped into his throat, his back pressed against the cold wall.

Old Zheng's voice rang out slowly, no different from usual: "They saw it with their own eyes?"

"No, not at all. But since the note has been handed over, we have to give an explanation. Steward Sun's idea is to send someone over to investigate in a couple of days, so as to clear the name of the Pharmacy."

"Then let them investigate. If they can't find anything, Steward Sun will lose face." There was a moment of silence in the room, then footsteps were heard walking towards the door, and the sound of the door opening and footsteps gradually faded away.

Wei Ping'an crouched against the wall, barely daring to breathe, until the footsteps completely disappeared before slowly exhaling. His back was soaked with cold sweat. He quietly took two steps back, circled around to his room's door, and gently pushed, closed, and locked the door, moving extremely slowly.

There were no lights on in the house, and he sat in the darkness for a while, his heart still pounding. After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the light in Old Man Zheng's house next door suddenly went out, and the courtyard returned to silence.

The next morning, he got up early as usual to help with the cooking and lighting the fire. Old Zheng sat by the stove and drank porridge as usual.

Did you sleep well last night?

"I'm perfectly fine, I fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow." Wei Ping'an said calmly, continuing to wash the pot. "Where's my senior uncle?"

"It's alright." The old man finished the last mouthful of porridge, put down the bowl, stood up, and left with his hands behind his back. He didn't mention the person from last night at all. Wei Ping'an didn't ask, nor did the old man say anything, but he knew in his heart that the old man was protecting him, and he remembered this kindness.

That afternoon, he couldn't resist sneaking off to the culvert again. He walked and stopped along the way to make sure no one was following him before finally reaching the entrance. The dry branches were still laid out the day before, and the pine needles and loose soil were intact. He crawled into the culvert, took out a few semi-finished products, and checked them over. They were all in good condition, and only then did he feel relieved.

Just as I finished packing up and was about to leave, I suddenly heard a cracking sound of tree branches being crushed outside the pile of stones.

A sudden chill ran through me, and I shrank back into the cave, pressing myself against the cold stone wall. My hand was already reaching for the chili powder in my pocket. The footsteps grew closer and stopped in front of the pile of rocks, and the cover over the cave entrance was gradually parted.

Just then, a clear, crisp voice came from outside, tinged with a hint of helplessness: "Wei Ping'an? Are you in there? Come out, I saw your footprints." It was Shen Qingyao.

Wei Ping'an's breath caught in his throat instantly. He leaned against the stone wall as he walked out, saying, "Why did you walk so quietly? You scared me to death! I thought Steward Sun's men had arrived!"

"I could hear you, you were just too nervous to hear me."

Shen Qingyao stood outside the cave entrance, holding a small cloth bag in her hand. "I saw you sneaking out from here last time on the slope. I came to bring you this."

Wei Ping'an took the cloth bag and opened it. Inside was a handful of dried white atractylodes roots, cut into even slices, with a grayish-white and translucent color. "Where did this come from?"

"I dried them myself. The pills you made last time weren't processed thoroughly enough with Bletilla striata root, so they weren't sticky enough. Try making a new batch with mine; the medicinal properties will be more stable and less likely to fall apart."

Holding the cloth bag, Wei Ping'an felt a surge of warmth in his heart. He opened his mouth to say thank you, but felt it was too cheesy to say it.

Shen Qingyao had already turned her back to him and waved her hand: "No need to thank me. I just don't want to hear one day that someone in the Medicine Testing Hall has blown up the alchemy furnace and have to find someone else to write the medicinal properties record again."

She paused, pointing to the withered branches at the entrance of the cave, "Your entrance is too conspicuous; the path you've worn out is almost complete. Next time, come around from the south side of the quarry. There's an old wall that's half collapsed over there, and there's a gap at the base of the wall. Go through that and you'll be in the middle of the culvert; it's much more hidden than this place."

She even found an alternate entrance for him. After a long pause, Wei Ping'an finally managed to say, "Senior Sister Shen, you're such a good person."

Shen Qingyao paused for a moment without turning around, then took two steps forward before stopping again and looking back at him: "By the way, Zhang Erpang was bragging to people in the medicinal kitchen at noon today that he took some kind of Qi-nourishing pill and his Qi flowed much faster while practicing his martial arts. Several people around heard him. Didn't you tell him not to tell anyone before you let him try the medicine?"

Wei Ping'an's scalp tingled instantly. That Zhang Erpang, with his big mouth, had patted his chest and guaranteed his mouth would stay shut that morning, and now he'd spilled everything in just half a day? "I...I told you!"

"Next time you find someone to test the drug, find someone who keeps their mouth shut," Shen Qingyao shook her head, "or tell him it's fake medicine and might cause diarrhea, then he won't dare to tell anyone." After saying that, she left.

Wei Ping'an stood at the cave entrance for a long while, holding the cloth bag in his hand, his mind replaying Zhang Erpang's slip of the tongue. He had originally planned to wait until things calmed down before slowly releasing information, but now, thanks to Zhang Erpang's outburst, it would probably be within two days that someone would come knocking on his door asking about the pills.

But then he thought again and laughed. It was good that word got out; after all, the pills really worked and it wasn't a scam. If anyone asked, he would say that Senior Brother Danfeng had asked him to sell a small quantity on his behalf, so that he could earn spirit stones without revealing himself—a sure-fire way to make money.

That evening, he sat in a corner of the canteen drinking porridge, but his ears were perked up, listening to the chatter of the servants and disciples around him. Sure enough, several tables were talking about the Qi-Nourishing Pill, saying that Zhang Erpang's cultivation level had miraculously loosened after taking one.

Wei Ping'an lowered his head and silently ate his porridge, but the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn upwards. He quickly calculated in his mind: "Make a small batch first, ten porridges for three spirit stones each, to accumulate capital. Once my reputation is established, I'll slowly raise the price." Zhang Erpang, who was sitting next to him with his porridge, looked at him curiously: "What are you laughing at? Did you find a spirit stone in your porridge?"

"I didn't laugh because the porridge was so delicious."

Lying in bed late at night, he was still pondering his Qi-Nourishing Pill business. Moonlight filtered in, casting a soft glow on the bed. He turned over, his back pressed against the cool edge of the pot, feeling quite at ease. He suddenly realized that he seemed to be truly starting to gain a foothold in the Cangxia Sect. He had hidden channels for storing goods, usable formulas, pills that had been successfully tested, the help of the stubborn but kind-hearted Shen Qingyao, the meager reputation he had won in the small competition, and the overt and covert protection of Old Man Zheng.

Although Deacon Sun was eyeing him covetously, although the pills were still a shady business, and although there were many troubles ahead, at least he was no longer the country bumpkin who could be easily manipulated when he first arrived.

"Wei Ping'an, you're a cultivator with your own business now," he muttered to himself, chuckling to himself, "Even if it's a shady business, it's still a business."

He rolled over again, bringing his face closer to the edge of the pot. The cool metal against his cheek felt reassuring. "We'll work together from now on. I'll make you a new shoulder strap and rub you with oil ten times when we earn spirit stones." Sleepiness washed over him, and his breathing soon became steady.

He didn't see that the fine, ancient patterns of melting medicine on the edge of the black iron pot on his back shimmered faintly with a golden light under the moonlight, just like the golden silk pill that had flashed by during the day.

Meanwhile, in the study of Steward Sun of the Danfeng Hall, the light was still on. A note lay on the table that read, "Wei Ping'an of the Medicine Testing Hall frequently visits the waste dump in the back mountain." The middle-aged cultivator tapped his fingertips on the table, his eyes filled with malice. The net was slowly closing in.