“An extra 500 wen per bottle?!”

Lu Yun started counting on his fingers again, and the others listened, hearts pounding.

Selling a whole basket of herbs barely brought in two or three taels. Yet here was a thumb-sized porcelain bottle of powdered medicine selling for a tael and a half!

This medicine was pure gold!

Everyone waited for Lu Qingqing to speak—but she responded calmly and firmly:

“I’m not signing.”

“Uh… Miss Qingqing, would you like to reconsider?” asked Tian Leshan.

He had noticed that this whole family deferred to Lu Qingqing—and clearly, she wasn’t just any ordinary village girl.

Most people wouldn’t resist the temptation of an extra half tael per bottle, especially a young girl of just a dozen or so years. But she hadn’t flinched.

“Or… if you have other conditions, just say the word. We can definitely negotiate.”

“You misunderstand, Boss Tian. I’m not signing—not because I want more—but because I’m afraid of future trouble.”

Lu Qingqing believed that her creations should remain under her control. Even if she made less money, she wouldn’t have to worry about breaking contracts or disputes.

What’s more, exclusive contracts drive up prices, which only makes it harder for others to afford the medicine.

“You can rest assured,” she added. “So long as nothing unusual happens, I’ll still supply you. But I’d rather keep my options open.”

Lu’s father nodded from the side: “She’s right. No one knows what the future holds.”

What if Tian Leshan turned out to be unscrupulous later on? A binding contract would put them at a disadvantage.

Better to hold the reins themselves. Sell to whoever they pleased. Let the family call the shots.

Don’t let short-term profit blind you.

Tian Leshan could only smile bitterly, but then realized—it might actually be a good thing.

This showed that Lu Qingqing wasn’t money-hungry. Even if someone else offered more in the future, she might not be swayed.

As long as he maintained a good relationship, he’d still get the supply.

With a smile, he asked, “Alright then. This medicine is in urgent demand. There’s a trade caravan heading north in seven days—I plan to send some with them. Miss Qingqing, how many bottles do you think you can prepare?”

“I’m not sure, but if I push myself, I can probably make around 200.”

“Great! I’ll wait for you in town.”

“But there’s one issue,” Lu Qingqing said, slightly troubled. “You’re asking for a large batch this time. We don’t have enough capital to buy that much raw material…”

Tian Leshan understood and responded straightforwardly: “How much more do you need? I can lend it to you.”

The family could scrape together thirty taels at most. To meet the need, they’d have to borrow another hundred taels.

That was a huge amount, but Tian Leshan hesitated only a moment before agreeing.

Lu Qingqing admired him more for it.

They drew up an IOU, stamped it with fingerprints, and Tian Leshan left behind two fifty-tael silver notes before departing.

After he left—the Lu family exploded with excitement.

Lu Yun held the 100 taels of silver notes in his shaking hands.

This was borrowed, sure—but unlike high-interest loans from shady lenders, this 100 taels could grow into another 100 taels!

“Little sis, did I hear you right? Two hundred bottles? That’s two hundred taels! I’ve never even touched that much silver in my life!”

Xixi certainly hadn’t. He’d never even seen it.

Two hundred taels…

That could buy a lot of softshell turtle soup.

Lu Feng added, “I worked as a carpenter day and night for a year and only earned 40 taels.”

Lu Qingqing gave them another shock: “Actually, I estimate we can make 300 bottles. 200 is the minimum.”

“AHHH!!” Lu Yun nearly lost it.

“Quick, quick! What do we need to do?! How do we make them?!”

“Second brother, Xixi—listen up. I’m assigning tasks. We’re missing a few herbs. You two take this money and buy them from the medicine shop…”

Lu Qingqing efficiently handed out assignments. She herself had to go back up the mountain to collect some pine resin.

“I’ll go with you—it’s not safe alone,” Lu Feng offered.

“No need, big brother. I’m not going far. Just stay and keep working. Don’t worry,” Lu Qingqing replied, picking up her tools and heading out.

Lu Feng looked disappointed.

He wanted to go with her!

The mountain had an area with pine trees. It was still early in the season, so pine resin wasn’t abundant. Lu Qingqing had to work hard.

After half an hour of scraping, her wrist began to ache, and she was about to call it a day when suddenly, a colorful bird flew past the trees.

A parrot?!

A parrot in the wild mountain forest? That was rare.

The parrot tilted its head, studying her.

“Wanna come home with me?” Lu Qingqing joked casually.

The parrot squawked twice—as if answering.

Lu Qingqing didn’t take it seriously and began walking away with her basket.

But then—two more creatures flew over.

A pigeon… and a flying squirrel.

The flying squirrel was actually a Siberian flying squirrel, known in Chinese folk tales as the “Cold-Crying Bird”—though not a bird at all.

It’s a gliding mammal that lives on cliffs and eats pine nuts.

In Traditional Chinese Medicine:

Wu Ling Zhi is made from its dried droppings, used to treat women’s blood deficiency and amenorrhea.

Zuo Pan Long, another medicinal substance, is pigeon droppings that spiral counter-clockwise.

How convenient!

Three birds (well, two birds and a rodent) flew off together—low to the ground.

Lu Qingqing set down her basket and chased after them, curious to find the flying squirrel’s nest.

Soon, two more colorful birds joined the flock—names unknown, but very pretty.

What’s going on today?

A bird convention?

She chased them a while and suddenly realized—there were now nearly thirty birds gathered.

At this point, she no longer cared about the bird droppings—she just wanted to know what was happening.

Atop a small hill, she finally saw it.

A man sat serenely among the trees and sky.

Dressed in a pale blue robe fluttering in the wind, bathed in golden sunlight, he played a leaf flute.

The music was soft… and sorrowful.

Birds gathered silently around him, listening.

Though he stood on the same earth, he seemed removed from the world—not of this realm.

Lu Qingqing watched for a long time before she shifted her position to see his face.

And in that moment—the magic shattered.

It was him—that masked county magistrate’s son!

Didn’t expect him to be a bird-whisperer too!

His two sword-wielding guards weren’t around, so Lu Qingqing grew a little bolder.

“Hey, can I catch two birds?” she asked aloud.

He said nothing.

“Not saying anything means yes,” she shrugged.

Lu Qingqing quickly pounced—while the pigeon and flying squirrel were entranced—and grabbed both!

She tucked them under her clothes and took off.

“Thanks! Bye!”

There was no reaction behind her.

The music continued.

Yep.

Definitely one of those doomed types—odd temperament and all.

Lu Qingqing even felt a little sorry for him.

She’d heard he wasn’t even twenty yet.

She glanced back.

And then nearly dropped the pigeon.

Holy crap!

A wolf had appeared—drawn by the music!

It was near the man.

“Run, you fool!” she wanted to shout. “You trying to become immortal on the spot?!”

The music seemed to pause.

Maybe it didn’t. But all the birds flew away.

The wolf had reached the man’s back. Its fangs gleamed.

Lu Qingqing’s eyes widened.

The man didn’t even move.

But neither did the wolf bite down.

Instead, it snarled and scratched the ground furiously… then suddenly turned—and charged straight at Lu Qingqing!

Holy crap!!

Diversion tactic!

Why had she stood there gawking?!

Then—her mind clicked.
The magistrate’s son was poisonous. The wolf must have a picky stomach.

She was the unlucky one!

No way she could outrun a wolf. She drew her knife, ready to fight.

Just as the wolf leapt—

SMACK!

A fist-sized rock slammed into its skull.

“Awooo!”

The wolf collapsed, blood gushing from a deep wound on its head.

Dead.