Li Xuan stood there, leaning against the alley wall, two trembling middle fingers held high in a silent, defiant message to the heavens. For a single, glorious moment, he felt the ghost of his old power, the sheer, indomitable will of a god who would not be broken. It was a perfect, triumphant pose.
And then his legs turned to jelly.
With all the grace of a sack of dropped potatoes, he crumpled to the ground in an undignified heap. The monumental effort of standing and raising his arms had completely drained the thimbleful of energy he'd spent all night gathering.
'Of all the infernal nerve,' he thought, lying face-down in the dirt and seeing only a blurry patch of cobblestone. 'This body has the structural integrity of wet paper. You give it one moment of pure, badass defiance and it repays you by collapsing.'
He lay there for a long time, cursing the fundamental weakness of mortal flesh. Eventually, driven by pure indignation, he forced himself back up. The grand gesture was over. The reality of his situation remained. It was time to get to work.
Leaving the alley for the second time—this time with considerably less drama—he stepped into the main street of Yan Town. He ignored the aches and the exhaustion, his mind already working, analyzing. He saw the world not as a place to live, but as a system to be exploited.
His gaze drifted to the wives and daughters of the wealthy merchants. He noted their attempts at beauty: a chalky white powder caked on their faces, and a greasy, blood-red paste smeared on their lips.
'Primitive,' he thought, a flicker of an idea sparking in his mind. 'They pay a fortune for that garbage, and the poor women look on with envy. The desire for beauty… it's a more powerful motivator than the desire for strength.'
He knew what he needed. Money. Money to buy real food to strengthen this body, and money to buy the herbs to fix his damn eyesight. But to make money, you need money. A classic mortal dilemma.
As he was contemplating this, he saw a large crow land on a tree branch, a shiny object in its beak. A coin.
'Well, well,' Li Xuan thought, a predatory grin touching his lips. 'Is that a gift from the universe, or just a witless bird?'
He bent down, his hand closing around a smooth stone. He poured every ounce of his will into the throw. The stone flew true, cracking against the branch next to the crow's feet. Startled, the bird let out a caw and dropped its prize. Li Xuan calmly walked over and picked up the silver coin.
'Doesn't matter,' he concluded, pocketing the coin. 'A silver is a silver.'
This was his seed capital. A mortal would buy food. A god would build an empire.
His plan was instant and brilliant. He wouldn't sell them power or health. He would sell them vanity. He would create lipstick and foundation, using his otherworldly knowledge to make a product so superior to their current junk that they would trample each other to buy it.
With his plan set, he walked to the dusty, rundown herb shop he'd noted earlier. "How much for your Red Earthworms and your White Alkaline Leaves?" he asked the old shopkeeper.
The old man scowled. "Run along, boy. No money, no business."
Li Xuan smirked, his voice unnervingly calm for a child. "Judging a customer by his clothes is the first mistake of a failed businessman. I have the money. Name your price."
He tossed the silver coin onto the counter. The old man's eyes widened. "One Red Earthworm is half a copper. A bundle of leaves is the same."
"I also need a binder," Li Xuan said. "A chalky powder. And a small pot of lard."
The shopkeeper, now convinced the boy was some rich family's eccentric child, quickly packaged the bizarre ingredients—worms for red pigment, leaves for a white base, and chalk and lard to bind it all together.
Li Xuan walked out with his purchases and his change. He found a new, hidden alley and laid out his materials. The squirming worms, the brittle white leaves, the chalky powder, the pot of grease. To anyone else, it was a collection of filth. To him, it was the beginning of a fortune.
He looked down at the strange assembly, a cold, predatory smile on his face.