Song Qiuling

Watching his hopeless older brother, Yu Yunfan felt a surge of anger. Fine, he decided—he’d tell their father that his brother was spreading rumors outside, claiming their father was stingy and withheld his allowance!

“Ah, boss, it’s not that I don’t want to buy it. It’s just that I was born into such a pitiful family—my father is harsh, holds all the family’s finances in his hands, and gives his children just a pittance of spirit stones each month as allowance, while he lives it up every day, drinking and making merry. I have such a lowly place at home, always on edge, afraid of being beaten by my father. The only one who treats me well is my little brother, and now I just want to buy him a gift.” With tears streaming down his face, Xiaocai sobbed, his misery enough to move anyone.

Well, there was no need to wrong him—he really was too naïve, he’d underestimated his brother. This guy’s ability to dig his own grave was unparalleled.

The stall owner in front of them, whether his mind had gone soft or not, had tears in his eyes as he softly replied, “You really have had a hard life. What a good child you are.”

“Yes, yes, it’s really hard for me. I’m so pitiful. So, boss, about that price…” Xiaocai’s eyes glistened with fake tears.

“All right, I’ll give you a discount—ten spirit stones. Small business, no further bargaining.” The stall owner wiped away imaginary tears.

Wait, what?

“Wasn’t it ten spirit stones just now?”

“The price went up while you were telling your story. Now I’m giving you a discount.”

What the hell! City folk really know how to play!

Yu Yunfan couldn’t stand it any longer. He tossed ten spirit stones onto the counter, grabbed the iron plate, and left without a word.

Yu Daoyi, realizing he’d been tricked, shot the stall owner a venomous glare before scurrying after his brother.

“Here.” Yu Daoyi’s little brother tossed the iron plate back to him.

“There’s an alchemical recipe inscribed on it, but it’s sealed by a restriction. It’s useless to me.” His little brother remained as cool as ever, his tone devoid of emotion.

Holding the iron plate, Yu Daoyi, who was barely at the third stage of Qi Refinement, was surprised—he hadn’t expected there to be an alchemy recipe on it. He glanced at his brother’s retreating figure and couldn’t help but smile warmly.

Oh, you prickly little brother. If you wanted to buy your big brother a gift, you could’ve just said so! Why go through all these twists and turns? So annoying!

Suddenly, he felt a twinge of guilt for wanting to trick his little brother. Wait, how could he have such thoughts?

No, no, this was just giving his naïve little brother a few hard lessons about the way the world worked! That couldn’t count as trickery!

Yu Daoyi quietly put the iron plate away. Spotting Xia Rong coming out, he abandoned his little brother, who was still browsing other stalls, and scampered over, as cheerful as ever.

“Sister Xia, Sister Xia, how did it go?” Yu Daoyi asked expectantly.

“There are a few left, but it’s a bit troublesome,” Xia Rong replied, frowning slightly.

“Troublesome? How troublesome? More troublesome than me?”

So you know you’re a handful, huh? Xia Rong glanced at him, her gaze taking on a certain charm.

Adorable—like a little sun!

“Those few pieces of Mystic Spirit Branch have been reserved,” she explained.

“Reserved? By who? Didn’t you say this stuff was pretty niche?” Yu Daoyi was puzzled. This herb couldn’t be used on its own—no one would gnaw on a branch, right? It was only useful as an alchemical ingredient, and it was so rarely used. A twenty-year-old herb wasn’t cheap either. Who would be foolish enough to buy it?

Wait, did he just insult himself?

“Someone like you—an alchemist,” Xia Rong replied, giving him a sidelong glance.

Normally, alchemists were rare and highly valued on this continent. The importance of pills needed no explanation, but alchemy was a money-burning path. Without a large supply of spirit stones, an alchemist couldn’t improve their craft. Every accomplished alchemist had a deep family fortune and strong backing from a cultivation clan.

People like that were respected everywhere. Yet, looking at the boy before her—though young—who could say what the future held? Still, she couldn’t muster any respect for him; not kicking him was already being nice. He was nothing like the aloof, proud alchemists she’d met before.

“Who?” Yu Daoyi asked curiously.

“Song Qiuling from the Song family. You should know her.”

Oh, that pretty little girl.

Yu Daoyi recalled the first time he met the Song family’s head a few years ago, when she’d brought her daughter to their house for the spirit mine competition. That little girl must have grown up by now—in every sense.

Over the years, Yu Daoyi had visited the Song family quite often. Maybe because of his parents’ relationship with them, the Song family head was always happy to see him and let him mingle with the younger generation.

Good people—there were fewer and fewer who didn’t look down on him these days.

Eventually, he went so often that, for some reason, the Song family head was never home when he arrived. What a pity.

As for Song Qiuling, the daughter of the Song family head, she also had a brother, Song Cheng—her little brother—who got along well with Yu Daoyi. He was a sharp, spiritual boy, not like Yu Daoyi’s own annoying little brother, who only knew how to look down on his elder.

“The Song family said they’d pick up the Mystic Spirit Branch today. They should be here soon, and Song Qiuling will probably come too. If you’re in a hurry, you can talk to them. It’s not a particularly rare herb, and since you’re from the Yu family, even if you can’t reach an agreement, they won’t be rude to you.” Xia Rong considered for a moment before speaking.

Normally, she shouldn’t have shared such information—after all, the Heavenly Jade Pavilion was backed by the Seven Luminaries Trading Company, and their reputation was important.

But if she didn’t tell him, this troublesome boy would never let it go!

Rules were dead, people alive, after all.

In any case, it was nothing important. She’d let him wear himself out bargaining with the Song family—she couldn’t be bothered.

Yu Daoyi, coming back to his senses, thought Xia Rong was looking out for him and was a little touched.

“Sister Xia, you’re so kind and pretty. Has anyone tried to court you?”

“No,” Xia Rong replied, not quite understanding the question but annoyed nonetheless.

“Hello, my surname is Yu, and my name is No-One-Has,” the little troublemaker answered solemnly.

Xia Rong’s delicate brows knitted as she lightly smacked Yu Daoyi’s head.

He just grinned—he really did treat her like an elder sister a few years older. He genuinely enjoyed her company.

Footsteps sounded at the entrance of the Heavenly Jade Pavilion as a group of people entered, chatting and laughing.

They were all dressed in fine silks and brocades, with a small Song character embroidered on their azure robes—clearly members of the Song family.

At the head was a girl just past ten, draped in luxurious silks, graceful and elegant, her natural beauty already apparent. Although she had not yet fully matured, she was clearly a rare beauty in the making.

She lifted her chin and strode straight to the manager, her pride on full display.

Behind her walked a boy just slightly shorter, his appearance unremarkable, but his eyes narrowed into slits—if this were a story, he’d be a classic villain.

He followed the girl with his chest puffed out, full of swagger.

The little troublemaker’s eyes sparkled; he immediately scampered over.

Song Cheng noticed him from afar and stopped, shooting him a look.

The little troublemaker instantly halted, engaging in a wild exchange of glances with Song Cheng.

“Hm???”

“Hm…”

“Hmmm~~~”

“Hmm!!!”

Song Cheng’s eyes darted about furiously, while Yu Daoyi stared back in earnest, nodding now and then, his eyes filled with thought.

A moment passed.

What the hell was this guy trying to say?

Yu Daoyi was on the verge of collapse—he was just putting on a show! Didn’t Song Cheng realize his own tiny eyes were useless for this?

They were only a few steps apart. If you have something to say, can’t you just walk over and say it?

He was only at the third stage of Qi Refinement—how could he possibly communicate telepathically?

Song Cheng, looking deeply satisfied with his own performance, nodded approvingly.

Yu Daoyi couldn’t take it anymore. He dashed over, boldly dragged Song Cheng aside, and gave him a good kick.

“Damn it, I can’t take it anymore! What on earth were you trying to say?” Yu Daoyi shouted.

“Hey! I thought you got it!” Song Cheng replied, full of grievance.

“Got what? With those squinty eyes, how am I supposed to read anything?!” Yu Daoyi retorted impatiently.

Song Cheng looked wounded, feeling utterly wronged.