The morning sun rose lazily over Greenstone Village, painting the thatched roofs in soft gold and turning the mist between the trees into thin, drifting veils. Zhang Wei woke early, the quiet hum of the system still fresh in his mind from the night before. He slipped out of the house while the others were still stirring, heading straight into the small clinic they had built together. The air inside smelled of pine logs and dried herbs, a comforting scent that had become familiar these past weeks.
He sat cross-legged on the wooden floor and pulled out the small batch of middle-grade Qi Condensing Pills he had refined yesterday. Ten perfect dark-green spheres rested in his palm, each one carrying a faint, steady pulse of energy. In the cultivation world, these were meant for strengthening meridians and gathering qi. But here, in a poor mountain village where most people worried more about their next meal than breaking through to the next realm, who would spend good copper on something they couldn't even see working?
No one, Zhang Wei thought with a small, wry smile. But everyone cares about looking better. Especially when life is hard and the mirror shows tired faces every morning.
He decided right then to change the product.
Using his million-point Herbal Knowledge, he worked slowly and methodically, treating the process like a scene in one of those old cooking documentaries he remembered from his first life — calm, deliberate, every step important. First, he took a clean clay bowl and filled it with fresh spring water from the jar they kept in the corner. He dropped in two of the Qi Condensing Pills, watching them dissolve slowly as he stirred with a wooden spoon. The water took on a faint greenish tint, shimmering with tiny motes of spiritual energy that only someone with his system could notice.
Next came the supporting herbs, chosen carefully for fragrance, skin-tightening, and gentle nourishment:
Three stalks of Silverthread Orchid, finely chopped — known for its natural astringent properties that helped tighten pores and give skin a smoother, firmer look. A handful of Wild Jasmine petals, crushed gently to release their sweet, floral scent that would linger on the skin for hours. Half a root of Mountain Ginseng (the small, wild variety he had gathered earlier), grated into fine shreds for its qi-nourishing effect that would translate into a healthy, glowing complexion. A pinch of Dried Lotus Seed powder to soothe and brighten dull skin. Two drops of Pine Resin oil for a subtle, woody base note that balanced the sweetness and helped the mixture last longer on the skin. Finally, a few crushed leaves of Clear Dew Grass to add a light, refreshing coolness when applied.
He let the mixture steep over a very low fire for nearly two full shichen, stirring occasionally so the spiritual energy from the pills infused evenly with the herbs. The liquid gradually turned into a pale, translucent green serum with a delicate, inviting fragrance — floral yet earthy, like walking through a misty mountain garden after rain. When it cooled, he strained it through a clean cloth into ten small white porcelain bottles he had bought the previous afternoon for ten copper coins each. Each bottle held just enough for several uses. He sealed them with simple wooden corks and tied a thin strip of clean cloth around the neck for a neat touch.
By the time he finished, the sun was already climbing higher. Zhang Wei stepped out of the clinic, holding the small basket of bottles like they were fragile treasures.
"Everyone ready?" he called softly.
Uncle Li, Mei, and Liu Qinglan were waiting outside, dressed in their cleanest clothes. Liu Qinglan had even brushed her long hair until it shone, though her cultivator robes still carried faint traces of her injuries. They looked at the basket curiously.
"Beauty serum?" Liu Qinglan asked, one eyebrow raised. "You really think villagers will buy something like that?"
Zhang Wei shrugged with a small grin. "They might not understand qi pills… but everyone wants to look younger and feel fresher. Trust me."
Mei bounced on her toes. "Let's go! I want to see their faces when they try it!"
The four of them walked toward the village market together, steps unhurried, the morning breeze tugging gently at their clothes. It was a simple, almost cinematic procession — a ragtag family with big dreams and very little money, carrying ten small white bottles that represented their first real attempt at something bigger than firewood and dried meat.
The market was already alive when they arrived. Vendors shouted, baskets of vegetables and eggs changed hands, and the smell of fresh bread and grilled skewers floated on the air. They found a small empty spot near the edge, spread out a clean cloth, and arranged the ten bottles in a neat row. Zhang Wei stood in front, calm and confident, while the others stood slightly behind him like a quiet support crew.
"Clear Spring Beauty Elixir!" he called out, voice steady but not overly loud — the kind of tone that drew people in rather than shouted them down. "Apply it on your face and watch your skin tighten and glow. Drink a sip and feel refreshed from the inside out. Made with rare mountain herbs and secret techniques. Only ten bottles available today — once they're gone, they're gone!"
A few curious villagers slowed down. An old woman paused, tilting her head. A young mother with a baby on her back stepped closer. Word spread slowly at first, the way rumors do in small places — one person whispering to another, until a small crowd began to form.
Zhang Wei kept talking naturally, like he was chatting with friends. "Fifty copper coins per bottle. See results in days — husbands will notice, wives will smile more. Skin feels tighter, face looks brighter. Limited stock — only ten bottles."
The crowd murmured. Someone laughed. "Fifty copper? For water with leaves in it? That's almost the price of a good fish!"
Another man crossed his arms. "My wife's skin is fine the way it is. Why waste money on fancy bottles?"
The interest that had been building started to cool. People shifted their weight, glanced at each other, and slowly drifted away. The stall grew quieter.
Then a woman approached from the side. She kept one side of her face hidden behind a simple cloth scarf, her eyes downcast. Her clothes were patched but clean, and she moved with the careful steps of someone who had learned to hide. She stopped in front of the bottles and asked softly, voice trembling just a little, "Does this… really work? For real skin problems?"
Liu Qinglan stepped forward smoothly, her cultivator presence adding quiet weight to her words. "It's genuine. No lies. If you don't believe us, buy one bottle. Worst case, you lose fifty copper. Best case… you see a change you never expected."
The woman hesitated, fingers brushing the edge of her scarf. Then she reached into her small pouch, counted out the coins with slightly shaking hands, and took one bottle.
"Thank you," she whispered, clutching it close to her chest before hurrying away.
That was it. One bottle sold.
The four of them packed up the remaining nine in silence. The walk home felt longer than the walk to the market. The sun was higher now, the air warmer, but the excitement from earlier had faded into a quiet, heavy disappointment.
Mei kicked a small stone along the path. "Aaaah… why didn't anyone else buy? We worked so hard on those bottles."
Liu Qinglan sighed, though her voice stayed gentle. "It's normal. Things like this… people need time to believe. They've been tricked before by fake medicines. One sale on the first day isn't bad."
Zhang Wei walked with his hands in his pockets, staring at the dusty road ahead. "Let's call it a day for now. We can try again later when word spreads a little."
Uncle Li patted his shoulder once, rough but kind. "Nine bottles left. Someone will buy them eventually. Don't look so down, lad."
Back at the house, the mood was subdued but not broken. Zhang Wei set the basket of remaining bottles on the shelf inside the clinic, then grabbed his knife and a simple snare. "I'll go hunt some rabbits. We still need dinner."
Uncle Li watched him head toward the forest and chuckled. "You young people really have endless energy. Two hunts in two days? My old bones could never keep up."
Zhang Wei glanced back with a teasing grin. "Then you should take more of the tonic I gave you yesterday, Uncle. Builds strength from the inside. You'll be chasing rabbits yourself soon."
Mei, who had been sulking near the door, suddenly puffed her cheeks and joined in. "I ate a lot of it too! See? I'm full of energy!"
The three adults — Uncle Li, Liu Qinglan, and Zhang Wei — looked at her proud little face and burst out laughing at the same time. The sound rolled across the yard, light and genuine, chasing away the last traces of disappointment. Even Liu Qinglan's usual cool expression cracked into a real smile.
"Alright, alright," Uncle Li said, still chuckling as he wiped his eyes. "Let's get the fire going. When Zhang Wei comes back with those rabbits, we'll make something good."
The afternoon passed in the familiar rhythm they had grown to love. Zhang Wei returned with two fat rabbits, and the four of them worked side by side — skinning, cleaning, chopping wild herbs, and simmering a simple but fragrant rabbit stew over the fire. The kitchen filled with the rich smell of meat, ginger, and mountain greens. Mei set the table, humming a little tune. Liu Qinglan helped stir the pot, occasionally glancing at Zhang Wei with a thoughtful look, as if still trying to figure out the boy who could refine pills in a clay pot and turn failure into laughter so easily.
As they sat down to eat, the golden light of late afternoon spilled through the window, warming the wooden table and the faces around it. Bowls clinked, chopsticks moved, and quiet conversation returned — small stories about the market, jokes about the unsold bottles, and plans for tomorrow that felt hopeful again.
Zhang Wei took a slow bite of the tender rabbit meat, savoring the warmth. Inside, the Qi stat still waited untouched in his status window, and the nine remaining bottles sat quietly on the clinic shelf. The first attempt at business had stung a little, but it hadn't broken anything important.
This was still their home. Still their family.
And tomorrow… they would try again.
The slow rhythm of village life continued, one unsold bottle, one shared meal, and one quiet laugh at a time. Outside, the sun began its slow descent behind the mountains, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. Inside the small house, the candle was lit, and the sound of four people eating together filled the air like the best kind of music.
Zhang Wei looked around the table and felt something steady settle in his chest.
They were building something here — not just a clinic or a business, but a life worth protecting.
And he was in no hurry to rush it.