Do you want to make money?

"Huang Ye from the Blackwater Gang?"

Doctor Xu glanced at the newcomer, saw that it was Zhong Lin, and nodded.

"Who else could it be? It used to be two parts for the officials and three for the gangs, now it's three for the officials and four for the gangs. The world is getting tougher."

What Doctor Xu referred to as "two for the officials, three for the gangs" meant that the authorities took a 20% cut, while the gangs took 30%. The former could be considered a tax—if one was frugal, they could still save some money. The latter, however, was nothing but protection money. The worst part? You couldn't refuse. The gangs were far nastier than the government.

Zhong Lin was glad that he had been recruited by the government as a court artist. Even though he was technically an external hire, no one dared to demand protection fees from him.

"Enough about that. Did you get the pills?"

"I did."

"How effective are they?"

Zhong Lin clenched his fist, feeling the increased strength in his body, and smiled in satisfaction. "Very effective."

"And very expensive, I assume?"

Zhong Lin's smile froze. That hurt.

Doctor Xu sighed. "When I was young, I was an apprentice at the Baicao Hall in Tianyang Prefecture. Unfortunately, my aptitude was a little lacking, and I never advanced to the rank of alchemist. That's an entirely different realm—extracting the essence of a hundred herbs, condensing it into a single pill. A pity, truly."

"You learned how to make Eight-Treasure Blood Nourishing Soup there?"

"That's right. To be precise, it should be called Eight-Treasure Blood Nourishing Powder. It's a weaker version of the Blood-Tonic Pill—something Baicao Hall apprentices practice with. Only those who can successfully refine true Blood-Tonic Pills qualify to become alchemists. I was so close, just a little short..."

Regret filled Doctor Xu's face, much like those old classmates from Zhong Lin's previous life who hadn't made it into college and were afterward struggling in society.

"Ah! Stop hitting me! Please, stop!"

As they were chatting, screams of agony suddenly rang out from outside.

Zhong Lin and Doctor Xu exchanged a glance before stepping out to see what was happening.

Across the street from the clinic, HuangYe was directing his thugs to brutally beat up a father and son. The pitiful cries just now had come from them.

"That's… Old Wang and his son?"

Huang Ye stood in the middle of the street, addressing the gathered onlookers in a loud voice.

"Old Wang and his son dared to resist paying tribute! That means they're resisting me, Huang Ye! And resisting me means resisting the Blackwater Gang! On top of that, he even dared to fight back against me—"

"Pah! Those two are as timid as dough! There's no way they fought back. He's doing this on purpose—making an example of them." Doctor Xu muttered angrily, his face filled with rage.

Sure enough, Old Wang opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to explain.

**Bang!**

A dull thud sounded as Huange Ye kicked him hard, sending him tumbling backward, groaning in pain.

"Drag them away! Beat them properly! Anyone who dares to defy the Blackwater Gang—I'll make sure they understand what it means to wish for death!"

Two of his thugs immediately rushed forward, kicking and stomping on Old Wang and his son. Their cries of agony echoed through the street.

"If this keeps up, they'll actually die!"

Doctor Xu shoved his way through the crowd and stepped forward, cupping his hands toward Huang Ye.

"Master Huang! Please, have mercy! If this goes on, someone will die!"

"Old man Xu, you really aren't afraid of death, are you?"

Huang Ye's face darkened, displeased that someone dared to interfere.

"I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare!" Doctor Xu quickly said. "But Old Wang was sick just days ago—his body is still weak! If you keep beating him like this, he will die! And with an official watching, too!"

As he spoke, he glanced at Zhong Lin, who was standing among the crowd.

HHuangYe followed his gaze, and when he saw Zhong Lin, his expression darkened further. Clearly, he recognized who Zhong Lin was.

Zhong Lin: "..."

What the hell?

Zhong Lin hadn't expected to be used as a human shield. For a moment, he had the urge to strangle Doctor Xu.

Huang Ye cupped his hands toward Zhong Lin from afar.

"So it's Painter Zhong. In that case, I'll give you some face today. Let's go."

With that, he led his men away, quickly disappearing down the street.

As they walked, one of the thugs, puzzled, asked, "Master Huang, isn't that guy just a court painter? Why bother giving him face?"

Huang Ye snorted. "A painter? He's not just a painter. You know Chi Yan?"

"You mean that constable who used to gamble at the Pleasure Pavilion? The one who died?"

"That's him. An eighth-grade martial artist in the Bone-Refining stage. Killed by that painter."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the thugs around him sucked in a sharp breath.

As gang enforcers, they understood the significance of martial rankings. Their boss, Huang Ye, was a ninth-grade martial artist, which was why he could control a whole street. An eighth-grade martial artist was stronger than him—yet had been killed by someone who looked like an ordinary scholar? Unbelievable.

Back at the clinic, Zhong Lin stood expressionless, staring at Doctor Xu.

Doctor Xu, knowing full well that what he had done wasn't exactly righteous—and that he might have just made an enemy for Zhong Lin—smiled awkwardly.

"Come on, I couldn't just watch Old Wang get beaten to death! He's completely broke—he spent everything on medicine after being sick."

"So you used me to curry favor?"

"Of course not! I just—"

"Doctor Xu, do you want to make money?"

"Huh?"

Doctor Xu was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. A moment ago, Zhong Lin had been accusing him, and now he was asking about money.

"I'm asking, do you want to make money?" Zhong Lin repeated.

Doctor Xu gave him a wary look. "I'm not interested in dirty money."

As a physician, if he really wanted to make underhanded profits, it would be easy—using inferior herbs, overprescribing medicine...

But despite his temper, he had integrity. He wouldn't stoop to such things.

Zhong Lin rolled his eyes. "Relax, I don't make dirty money either."

"Then tell me your idea."

"Eight-Treasure Blood Nourishing Soup."

"Tch! I thought you had some brilliant plan. You want to sell it to martial arts schools, don't you? Won't work. Every martial arts school has its own secret remedies—just as effective as mine. And they'd never allow it anyway; it'd be stealing their business."

Doctor Xu waved him off dismissively.

"Who said I was selling to martial arts schools? There's another market."

"Where?"

"The black market."

Doctor Xu was stunned for a moment. He started considering the feasibility of the idea, and his eyes gradually lit up.

The black market was a chaotic place, filled with outlaws—many of whom didn't dare enter the city during the day, let alone buy medicine from legitimate shops. But these same people needed medicine.

"You make the medicine. I'll handle the sales. Fifty-fifty split. How about it?" Zhong Lin grinned.

"Why fifty-fifty? I provide the ingredients and make the medicine. You're just running errands!"

"Then do it yourself."