Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

The most wondrous medicine, if not able to be used, was no different from trash. To the young array master on his last breaths lying on the bed, the Cinnabar Pill was precisely this sort of existence. The general walked out of the room without looking at him. When walking past An Hua and the cleric, he stopped and requested that they take care of him, then said a harsh phrase.

"I won't say that that person is seeking fame, but that person must have a very grand scheme."

They understood what the general meant. Regardless of whether that person found this divine medicine through the study of ancient books or developed it through their own research, if they really did care about the safety of humanity, if they really did pity the fate of mankind, then the most proper thing to do was to reveal the recipe.

Upon confirming that the Cinnabar Pill truly did have such a wondrous effect and had even saved many people that should have died, An Hua had formed an extremely good impression of that enigmatic person that she, or anyone else, had never met. She did not wish to believe that this person was a schemer or had ulterior motives, but she could not refute the general's words.

That person only sent out one bottle of Cinnabar Pills every month. To the soldiers on the frontlines, several dozen pills was still insufficient, but she believed that that person had already done all they could. Perhaps because they could not collect enough rare ingredients or were limited by their ability, they could not increase the number of pills. But if they were just willing to distribute the recipe, these problems would be easily resolved. Just as she thought in the beginning, no matter how precious and rare were the ingredients required, the Orthodoxy and the Imperial Court would assuredly be able to find them.

The Orthodoxy and the Imperial Court could produce this medicine in large quantities, bestowing on the Human race an extraordinary advantage in this war and brightening the future of the continent. Of course, this would also be of great benefit to that person. They would receive gratitude and countless rewards from the entire world. Even if they could not cultivate, they would still become a true Saint.

So why was this person not willing?

The middle-aged man quietly sipped tea on his chair. The manager of the inn stood in front of him, not daring to move.

He listened to the voices coming from behind the wall, and his lips turned into a mocking smile. "A Saint? They're nothing more than a hoarder."

The inn manager pressed his body even lower, not daring to say anything.

Hoarding a rare product was a merchant's business strategy.

How much money was a Cinnabar Pill worth? In terms of medical efficacy, it could regrow bones and save the dying, naturally making it an invaluable treasure. But in reality, from the moment the Cinnabar Pill first appeared at Blue Pass, it had never been sold for a price. It could not be obtained with money, only through waitingif one's fate was to survive until that point.

Whether it was the master of the Cinnabar Pill, the Hall of Illustrious Persons, or the Wenshui Tang clan, none of them had obtained any profit from the Cinnabar Pill. Some people thought that it was completely unreasonable for the Wenshui Tangs to offend so many factions and powerful people for the sake of this pill from which they obtained no profit. But the truly wise thought this view to be unquestionably and incredibly idiotic. The master of the Cinnabar Pill had laid down rules, but laws were dead, and there were always areas that could be taken advantage of. For instance, if there were two heavily injured array masters who were incredibly similar both in cultivation and military achievement, how was it decided which came first?

At these moments, it was the Tang clan that held the power.

Even though this power would not always appear and seemed very insignificant, the tiniest piece used to its absolute extent was still as vast as the ocean, and there was no limit to how much it should be valued. The Tang clan would never give up on such a resource, and in order to ensure that they kept it for a long time, would do their utmost to satisfy that man's demands, including carrying out his rules.

After the coup of the Mausoleum of Books, the Tang clan's status in the human world had risen even higher, leaving the Tianhai clan far behind them to become the number one noble clan of the Great Zhou Dynasty. Now that they had obtained the power to distribute the Cinnabar Pill, they had further consolidated their status, even causing many factions to fear them.

A normal noble clan would most likely have been content with this sort of position, but the Wenshui Tangs were no normal clan. They were the earliest merchant clan on the continent, and merchants were never content, always greedy and never satisfied. Regardless of how judgmental such a phrase was, business was business, and the Tang clan could naturally not be satisfied by the profits brought by the Cinnabar Pill.

Compared to the mystical effects of the Cinnabar Pill, the profits it brought were excessively small, and besidesthey were not playing the leading role.

The enigmatic individual was the true boss here, a fact that the Tang clan found impossible to accept.

Whether it was in military arms, army provisions, city walls and moats, treasures, or medicines, any business venture that the Tang clan participated in on the continent could only have them as the sole boss, or at least the majority shareholder.

Starting from many thousands of years ago, greed for profit and an overpowering desire for control had been the most defining aspects of the Wenshui Tangs, even becoming the reasons for their existence. These two points had long since mixed into the blood of every member of the Tang clan, transforming into an obsession. Thus, even after the bloody incident of the Hall of Illustrious Persons, they still wanted to obtain more from the Cinnabar Pill.

And they wanted, more than anyone else, to know who the true master of the Cinnabar Pill was.

Compared to the other powers of the world, they were unquestionably the closest to this individual. Perhaps a few layers of fog still lay between them and that person, but they could almost make out the true appearance.

Indeed, this inn was the property of the Wenshui Tang clan.

The middle-aged man was the seventeenth master of the Wenshui Tangs.

He had traveled over vast distances from Wenshui to the Mount Song Army headquarters to find the secret hidden by the Cinnabar Pill.

A deferential voice, barely concealing its fear, came from beyond the door.

"The product from Black Mountain has arrived."

The Tang Seventeenth Master slightly raised his eyebrows at this news, his eyes brightening.

He stood up from the chair and, guided by the inn manager, came to a secret room in the inn's backyard.

In the center of this secret room was a massive table made of black stone. Upon the table was a product that the Wenshui Tangs had paid a massive price to transport from the Black Mountain Army headquarters.

It was a corpse.

The deceased was a man who had suffered the most grievous of injuries. His face and neck were charred black, clearly burned by highly toxic demon flames. The half-untied clothes were clearly of military style. His fingers were extremely long and slender, his knuckles slightly bulging. The horrifying wound across his chest was still glimmering with vestiges of star radiance that had not completely dispersed.

From this detail, one could tell that this was a Star Condensation cultivator that had died in battle with a demon expert. There was a high chance that he was a general of the Great Zhou Army.

The Seventeenth Master removed a pure white handtowel from his sleeve to cover his nose and mouth, and used his eyes to order the inn manager to step forward.

The manager walked up to the black table and took up a small, sharp knife. He cut along the corpse's chest, starting from the existing wound and cutting downward.

With a tiny tearing sound, the knife cut upon the deceased's stomach. A green and stinking liquid burst out and dripped onto the table.

The Tang Seventeenth Master slightly creased his brow, somewhat disgustedly holding the towel even closer to his face, but he did not avert his gaze.

Before him, the inn manager had looked like a particularly mediocre servant, but at this moment, he looked like an extremely seasoned coroner.

Without hesitation, the inn manager thrust his hands into the corpse's stomach. After rummaging around for a few moments, he extracted a small bag.

This bag was made of some unknown material, not leather or paper. Its surface was very glossy and it felt very thin and soft to the touch. It could faintly be seen that there was something round inside.

It could be a stone or a pearl.

It could also be a pill.