It had to be said — the Dragon-Carved Gold Medallion carried considerable influence. Whether it was the Third Hall Master of the Medicine Hall or the elders, when they heard that the visitor held a Dragon-Carved Gold Medallion, none dared to show the slightest discourtesy.
Such a person — they couldn't afford to offend him, nor did they want to.
Before long, Jiang Zheng was ushered inside. In addition to the Third Hall Master, one male and one female elder accompanied them as hosts. Quite the courtesy, all things considered.
Jiang Zheng had visited the Medicine Hall more than once or twice before. In the past, the highest-ranking person he'd ever laid eyes on was a mere steward — and that had been nothing more than a fleeting glimpse, without even a word exchanged.
But today, Hall Masters and elders alike stood before him, treating him as an honored guest.
Was this not a salted fish flipping over?
Jiang Zheng felt a warm rush of satisfaction inside, but he kept himself from getting carried away. He urged himself to stay calm, not to show any weakness. He knew these people weren't showing him respect — they were showing respect to that medallion.
With the medallion protecting him, what reason did he have to be nervous?
It had to be said, Jiang Zheng's mental fortitude was solid enough. After three rounds of tea, the Third Hall Master still hadn't figured him out. With a chuckle, he spoke: "This gentleman holds a gold medallion personally bestowed by His Majesty the King. Surely your origins must be extraordinary. Might I ask what business brings you here?"
Personally bestowed by His Majesty? Jiang Zheng nearly dropped the teacup in his hand in shock.
Jiang Chen had given him this medallion and merely said it was useful. He'd had no idea it had been personally granted by the King. Now he finally understood why the other party had been so accommodating.
"Truth be told, it's nothing major. I came to pick up some medicinal ingredients and discuss a bit of business with your Medicine Hall."
Herb-gathering — in the eyes of a Hall Master and elders, that was a trivial matter, not worth their attention. What truly interested them was business.
An important figure coming to discuss business was no small matter.
"And what sort of business might this be?" The Third Hall Master didn't rush to commit. Until he understood the other party's background, he wasn't about to agree to anything casually.
"I have an ancient pill recipe — one lost to the ages." Jiang Zheng didn't beat around the bush, cutting straight to the point. "I won't sell the recipe. Revenue split only. Fifty-fifty. You cover the cost of ingredients, and I take a dry share."
A dry share — with a fifty-fifty split, no less. That was asking for the moon.
Even if it was an exclusive pill recipe, the Medicine Hall had seen their share of them before. This fellow's tone was far too audacious. Fifty-fifty? That was robbery!
"Ha ha, pill recipe transactions — the Medicine Hall has handled those before. They're always one-time buyouts. A revenue split? There's no precedent. Besides, we cover the costs, and the fifty-fifty ratio is rather… Tell you what — would you mind letting me take a look at the recipe?"
The Third Hall Master didn't shut the door entirely, but his enthusiasm was clearly lacking. As for asking to see the recipe, that was nothing more than professional instinct.
"You're welcome to look at it — I'm just afraid you won't be able to understand it. Fine, take a look. The refining techniques are in my possession, and I haven't included the most critical ingredients on the list. Look all you want. If you're thinking of stealing the craft, you can forget about that."
Jiang Zheng casually tossed the list across, his tone increasingly airy and nonchalant, the very picture of a man sitting on Mount Tai itself. He had fully settled into his role. Even facing the upper echelon of the Medicine Hall, he was at ease.
The Third Hall Master took the recipe and glanced at it — and his brows furrowed ever so slightly. In what way did this look like an ancient lost pill recipe?
Ordinary paper. Mediocre handwriting. His first impression was: fraud.
If you were going to forge an ancient pill recipe, you could at least find some antique-looking parchment and write in a few strokes of otherworldly elegance, couldn't you?
What was this?
Even a forgery should have some sincerity! Was he planning to shake down the Medicine Hall on the strength of a single Dragon-Carved Gold Medallion?
The other two elders took their turns examining the recipe as well. Their expressions grew rather peculiar. They exchanged glances, and in each other's eyes they could see the word "fraudster" spinning like a top.
The Third Hall Master took the list back and looked it over once more, his brow slightly creased. "The Divine Show Creation Pill — I must say, I've never heard of this pill name."
"It's an ancient recipe. The fact that you've never heard of it is perfectly normal. If you had heard of it, could it really be called an ancient recipe?" Jiang Zheng took a calm sip of tea.
He set the teacup down with a casual motion. "You've seen the recipe. If you can't recognize its value, others will. I understand your thinking — you look at this paper and these characters, decide it's too sloppy, and assume it's a fake. Very well. You can't discuss ice with a summer insect. If you understood, I wouldn't need to say a word. If you don't understand, no amount of talking on my part would help. I won't trouble you any further. I'll see myself out."
Jiang Zheng spoke with a breezy air, but inside his heart was hammering. This was his last card — playing hard to get. Deliberately projecting depth, projecting nonchalance.
If the other party didn't take the bait, he truly had nothing left.
"Sigh. Let's hope Shennong Hall or the Pill King Garden has someone with the eye to appreciate this. It would be a shame if in such a vast Royal Capital, the alchemy world were crawling with mediocrity, with not a single soul who could recognize a pearl among stones."
Jiang Zheng rose to his feet with a look of wistful disinterest and moved toward the exit, unhurried.
The Third Hall Master watched him — so inscrutable, so effortlessly composed — and felt a knot of uncertainty in his chest. If this man simply walked out, the Medicine Hall would have done nothing wrong. By all rights, they should happily see him off.
But some instinct told the Third Hall Master that letting him leave just like that would feel like a loss.
As if compelled by some invisible hand, the Third Hall Master called out: "Please wait, sir. Our First and Second Hall Masters will both be returning before long. I may not have the eye for this recipe, but perhaps they—"
"Forget it, forget it. Opportunity waits for no one. I happened to be in the mood today and stopped by the Medicine Hall. I have no patience to wait around for days. To think — the great Medicine Hall, and not a single person who knows quality when he sees it. How tragic, how truly tragic."