Maple Street was a relic of a bygone era, a narrow alleyway lined with crumbling brick buildings and overgrown weeds. Lin Chen stood before "The Willow's Grace." The sign hung by a single rusty nail, and the windows were caked in years of grime. To anyone else, it was an eyesore. To Lin Chen, it was the place where his childhood had been ripped away.
He pushed the door open. The smell of dried herbs and dust greeted him. He walked straight to the back of the shop, ignoring the broken furniture. He knelt by a specific floorboard near the medicine cabinet and pressed a hidden sequence. A small compartment clicked open, revealing a charred leather journal and a small, crystalline vial containing a single drop of crimson liquid.
"So, the legends were true," Lin Chen murmured, his fingers tracing the journal's cover. "The Lin family wasn't destroyed by a business rival. They were hunted for *this*."
His reflection was interrupted by the sound of heavy boots. A group of men in traditional martial arts uniforms marched into the shop. At the front was a man in his thirties with a scar running through his eyebrow—Guo Tie, a local enforcer for the 'Medicine King' Hall, the dominant medical faction in the district.
"So, the rumors are true. Someone actually moved into this cursed hole," Guo Tie sneered, kicking a pile of debris. "Kid, I don't care what deal you made with the Su family. This street belongs to the Medicine King. You want to open a shop? You pay the protection fee, or you leave an arm behind."
Lin Chen didn't even look up from the journal. "I'm busy. Leave now, and I'll forget you breathed on my floor."
Guo Tie's face darkened. "You've got guts! Let's see if your medicine is as good as your mouth. In our world, we settle things with the 'Trial of the Five Poisons.' If you can identify and neutralize what I have here, I'll leave. If not, this shop becomes my new warehouse."
He reached into a lead-lined pouch and pulled out a gnarled, purple-streaked herb that seemed to pulse with a sickly light. The air in the room suddenly turned cold, and a faint, acrid smell filled the space. Even Guo Tie's own men backed away, their faces full of fear.
"This is the 'Ghost-Wail Grass,'" Guo Tie grinned wickedly. "One touch, and your blood turns to sludge. One sniff, and your mind rots. What do you say, 'God-Doctor'?"
Lin Chen finally looked up, but instead of fear, there was a flash of genuine interest in his eyes. "Ghost-Wail Grass? You brought me a Grade 3 Spirit Poison as a greeting gift? I was wondering where I'd find the catalyst for my next pill." He reached out his bare hand toward the deadly herb.