Chi Gathering Pills

The old man looked at Huǒ Shuchang, then shifted his gaze to Wu Jian, still hiding behind his cloak and mask. He didn’t seem bothered by the clothes, so he must have had a bunch of different sorts coming and going.

“A bag of twenty Low-Grade Chi Gathering Pills will be 1,000 spirit coins,” the old man said.

1,000 spirit coins would have sounded intimidating to Wu Jian before, but now that he had spent around 45,000 spirit coins on a single item, he didn’t bat an eye as he handed the money over. The old man checked to make sure it was enough. Then he went to a room in the back and returned with four jars in hand. Each jar contained five pills, which were a deep bronze color.

“Here are your Chi Gathering Pills,” the man said.

Wu Jian was about to store them, but Huǒ Shuchang grabbed his wrist. He looked at the older man with a raised eyebrow.

“Hold on a second. You need to check the quality of the pills first. It would suck if you bought inferior pills.”