Chapter Twelve: The Legendary Elixir

Two days later, Chen Xuan once again visited the Hundred Herbs Hall pharmacy.

The same receptionist greeted him. “Welcome. Do you have a prescription... Why are you here again?”

There was a hint of malice in her tone.

“I’m not here to buy medicine. I’m here to sell medicine,” he said bluntly.

“Sell medicine?” She appraised Chen Xuan up and down for a moment, then pointed toward a door inside the pharmacy. “Go that way and look for Doctor Jiang.”

Chen Xuan had expected her to turn him away coldly.

The level of uncertainty in the “Voice of Trust” assessment seemed to match his intuition.

He walked to a private room beside the main hall, where a middle-aged man in a white coat received him. “Selling medicine? Dried herbs or fresh?”

Because Mount Lu was a famous mountain known throughout the land, most local pharmacies both sold and bought medicines, mainly sourcing from local herbal farmers who harvested from the mountain. Especially with wild lingzhi mushrooms and wild ginseng—their efficacy was indistinguishable from cultivated ones, but adding the label “wild” could multiply the price several times over.

Chen Xuan had learned beforehand that dried herbs were sun-dried, while fresh herbs were newly picked from the mountain. For creatures like snakes, scorpions, and centipedes used in medicine, pharmacies usually only accepted dried, processed stock.

He sat opposite Doctor Jiang and placed a blood orange on the table.

“Young man, what is this?”

Doctor Jiang smiled as if seeing something rare, picked up the pill, examined it, then smelled it twice. “Take it and eat it yourself. We don’t accept prepared medicines here.”

Chen Xuan was unfazed. “It’s called Blood Orange. It’s a medicine specifically for external wounds.”

“Even if it’s a panacea, it won’t do,” the doctor chuckled. “If you want to sell finished medicine, do you have a pharmaceutical production license? Have you done pathological and toxicological tests? This is a legitimate pharmacy; all finished medicines we sell have a legal source. You don’t even have packaging—who would trust it?”

The response was exactly what Chen Xuan had anticipated.

The proof of the prescription’s efficacy from Jeanne d’Arc’s team had convinced him. Selling medicine to raise funds for the shop was still his easiest option. Over the past two days, he had been busy gathering herbs and refining medicine, accumulating about twenty pills, most of which were the more visibly effective Blood Oranges. But to sell them, conventional methods wouldn’t work because to outsiders, these were just lumps of mud; no one would take them seriously without witnessing their effects firsthand.

Chen Xuan suddenly pulled out a pair of scissors.

“Hey, young man, watch your tone!”

Doctor Jiang’s expression changed instantly. “If you have issues, go to the hospital next door!”

Chen Xuan took a deep breath and sliced the back of his own hand with the scissors.

A sharp, piercing pain followed, and blood immediately welled up.

The doctor turned even paler.

Who hurts themselves before acting? What kind of ruthless person is this?

“Medicine,” Chen Xuan said, pointing to the pill in Doctor Jiang’s hand.

“Ah, here, take it, take it...” The doctor hurriedly handed it over, afraid of being misunderstood as trying to snatch the medicine.

Without further ado, Chen Xuan crushed it on the spot, swallowed half, and applied the other half to the wound. In less than ten seconds, the pain began to subside, and a white frost gradually appeared on the wound.

Watching the transformation on his hand, Doctor Jiang was dumbfounded.

“...Is this some kind of magic trick?” he managed to say after a long pause.

“Then you try it.” Chen Xuan pushed the scissors toward him.

He hesitated but did not refuse. “No, I’m afraid of cross-infection... Wait for me a moment.”

Doctor Jiang rummaged through his desk and produced a blood glucose lancet.

Though the wound it caused was smaller, it was convenient and sterile.

He didn’t act immediately. Probably for caution, he personally brewed two cups of tea and waited a full fifteen minutes. Then he re-examined the wound on Chen Xuan’s hand, conducted a full set of traditional diagnostics, and only after confirming no signs of poisoning did he begin his own test.

Following Chen Xuan’s demonstration, he pricked his finger several times, swallowed and applied the Blood Orange, then squeezed the wound hard, but no more blood flowed out.

“Well, that’s miraculous!” Doctor Jiang’s attitude changed completely. “Young man, where did you get this medicine?”

“It’s inconvenient to say.”

“Why sell it to Hundred Herbs Hall? Can’t it be mass-produced?” he asked, puzzled. “As long as traditional Chinese medicines are effective, the Drug Administration would issue a license. If you sell it yourself, you can set whatever price you want.”

There lay the problem.

Even with identical ingredients, without the alchemist’s qi to shape the pill, what comes out is just medicinal dregs.

Occasional trials were fine, but Chen Xuan had no interest in spending all day by a pressure cooker refining pills.

Moreover, proper procedures required passing inspections. When asked about the factory, machines, and clinical trials, he had no answers. Claiming only he could handcraft this medicine wasn’t feasible. He aimed to make money to support the shop, not become a research subject for others.

“How would I know? I’m just the runner,” Chen Xuan said, making a move to leave. “Just tell me if you want it or not. There are plenty of pharmacies around here anyway.”

“Wait, I can’t decide this. I’ll call the boss.”

Doctor Jiang grabbed his phone and went to the door, speaking rapidly with emphatic nods as if proving his words.

Within half a minute, the boss came downstairs.

The man appeared to be around sixty, with graying temples but in excellent spirits. He walked briskly and, upon entering, asked firmly, “You’re the customer selling medicine? What’s your name?”

“Chen Xuan.”

“Boss Xu,” Doctor Jiang introduced, “He calls the shots at Hundred Herbs Hall.”

Chen Xuan nodded; he had already noticed the boss’s photos on the pharmacy and office walls, with the name Xu Wangxian beneath.

“Have you tried it?” the boss asked the physician.

“Yes... it’s effective, though my wound was smaller—”

“Let me try as well. Bring me a knife and some alcohol to disinfect.”

“Ah? This...”

“Stop hesitating,” Xu Wangxian waved his hand. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I have to see it for myself. The hospital next door is a top-tier medical center; nothing to worry about if something goes wrong.”

Seeing Chen Xuan’s surprised look, Doctor Jiang, while fetching a knife, explained, “Haha, don’t underestimate the boss. Although older now, he used to frequently climb mountains alone to gather herbs.”

Chen Xuan couldn’t help but see Boss Xu in a new light. He had thought the man was just an elderly businessman treating the pharmacy as a profit tool, indifferent to whether the medicine worked or not. But now it seemed this man cared deeply about efficacy and was quite hands-on.

After the procedure, the result was identical.

Xu Wangxian watched the white frost gradually cover the wound, his expression stunned, yet more complex and tinged with mixed emotions than Doctor Jiang’s. After a long pause, he looked at Chen Xuan. “How do you want to sell it?”

“One hundred thousand per pill.”

“How many do you have?”

“Twenty-six. But only nineteen are Blood Oranges; the other seven treat pneumonia and respiratory diseases. I call that the Ganbiqing Pill.”

Doctor Jiang frowned and looked at the boss. “That’s two million six hundred thousand...”

Xu Wangxian didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take them all, at your price.”

Chen Xuan nodded with satisfaction. If the buyer had even hinted at bargaining, he would have walked away. “Honestly, this price isn’t high. If someone urgently needs it to save their life, it’s easy to multiply that several times.”

He couldn’t personally seek out such buyers, but pharmacies cooperating with hospitals could.

“You’re right, but medicine is ultimately for treating and saving lives... If only a few can afford it, it loses its true meaning,” Xu Wangxian said with a wry smile. “Can you transfer the money this afternoon? It takes time to arrange such a large amount of cash...”

“Fine, let’s sign the contract.” Chen Xuan didn’t make it difficult.

The set price of one hundred thousand also considered cash flow. He could have priced higher and found pharmacies willing to pay, but expecting them to produce millions or tens of millions in cash at once was unrealistic. With the economy sluggish, delayed payments over months were normal—something he couldn’t afford to wait for.

Besides, this was just the price for one batch.

He could refine more in the future.

After signing, Xu Wangxian said, “Young friend, I have one more favor to ask. Can you agree?”

From “young man” to “young friend” now.

“Go ahead.”

“If you have new medicines to sell in the future, could you give Hundred Herbs Hall priority? We can negotiate prices... and we’ll do our best to accommodate you.”

That was no big issue; Chen Xuan thought for a moment and agreed.

After Chen Xuan left, Doctor Jiang couldn’t help but say, “Pay him first. Other herb purchases might become problematic... Besides, at one hundred thousand a pill for an external wound cure, few can afford it, and you have to meet patients who need it... Isn’t swallowing them all yourself too risky?”

“What do you suggest?” Xu Wangxian carefully put the contract into a folder, as if it were a treasure.

“Eat half now, or partner with other pharmacies to buy in? No need to trouble the young man; we can handle negotiations ourselves.”

“No need. I’ll take however many he offers. That’s the basic sincerity.”

“Sincerity?” Doctor Jiang looked at him as if meeting his boss for the first time.

“Have you heard of the elixir?” Xu Wangxian suddenly asked.

“The kind from movies?”

“There are things in this world inherently extraordinary, including medicines. No one knows where they come from, so they’re called celestial items. They rarely circulate, only among a select few.” He looked at the folder and spoke slowly. “I saw one thirty years ago, though only from afar. I never expected to see one again after all this time... and that it would fall into my hands. How could I possibly miss this?”

Doctor Jiang had never heard of such a thing. “Old Xu, are you serious?”

“You’ve been with me all this time. When have I ever lied to you? I didn’t mention it before because there was no proof; mentioning it would have sounded like a daydream. You came from a prestigious university. Tell me, what medicine can do this? Pharmacology can’t even explain it. Do you think this is just ordinary traditional Chinese medicine?” Xu Wangxian’s tone was vibrant. “I bet if you took this medicine to a lab, identified its components, and tried to replicate it, you wouldn’t even get one percent of its effect.”

“I... need time to process...” Doctor Jiang was incredulous. “Are you saying elixirs really exist? Does anyone in medical school know about this?”

“Nationwide? I guess some do. But these things defy logic. Talking about them only causes confusion; they’re definitely not in textbooks.” Xu Wangxian patted his shoulder. “Before we had the elixir, we were outsiders. You could treat it as a story or a joke. But now that we have it, Hundred Herbs Hall has a chance to break into that circle, so we should give the young friend enough sincerity.”

“Chen Xuan said he’s just selling medicine, not the maker...”

“Does what he says have to be true?” Xu Wangxian laughed. “Even if he didn’t make the medicine, what’s his relationship with the maker to be the sole agent selling it? Since it’s connected to the elixir, it’s all about fate. Whether we show sincerity to him or to the maker, it’s the same thing.”