Chapter 3: The Herb Supply Is Cut

The night was thick as ink. Inside the clinic, candle flames flickered, casting long, dancing shadows against the mottled wooden walls. Outside, a biting wind carried the damp chill of early winter, whistling through the gaps in the window frames and making the candle wicks sputter and pop.

Shen Mo stood under the eaves, his posture rigid, his gaze locked onto the black carriage parked across the street. His fingertips twitched as he activated his Qi Luck Heavenly Eye, a faint golden light igniting deep within his pupils. In his vision, the carriage was wreathed in thick, grey-black miasma—the stench of rot and murder woven together like a molting viper waiting in the dark. The horses pawed the mud restlessly; their own life-breath dissipated quickly, but that dark, oppressive cloud of malice remained, stagnant and heavy.

He pulled his gaze away, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the cold jade pendant at his waist. His intuition told him this "rescue" mission was merely the opening move of a carefully laid trap. The prey was already in the net, and the hunter was far more than just Zhang Lao. Those hidden eyes watching from the shadows were sharper than the winter wind.

Stepping inside, he found Su Ya frowning at a ledger. Her face was pale, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the book, her pen leaving jagged, messy ink blots across the page.

"Shopkeeper Su, this batch of medicinal herbs... it seems they haven't arrived," Shen Mo said softly, his voice steady, trying to soothe the crumbling order of the room.

Su Ya jerked her head up, a flash of panic in her eyes before she forced herself to compose. She set down her pen, her fingers tapping a sharp, frantic rhythm against the ledger.

"You came at the right time," Su Ya said, standing up. "Our supplier, Old Li, has cut us off."

"Who ordered it?"

"Zhang Lao." Su Ya bit her lip, her voice trembling. "He claimed that since you were expelled from the Sect, a talentless hack like you isn't fit to handle the high-grade herbs of the Sect. If I can't find a new supplier by tomorrow, Ji Shi Tang will have to close its doors."

Shen Mo fell silent for a moment, looking toward the carriage still idling outside. He understood. Zhang Lao wasn't acting out of personal spite; he was taking orders from someone else. The black miasma from that carriage was already seeping toward the back door of the clinic, crawling through the cracks and bringing with it a nauseating, moldy stench.

"Don't panic." Shen Mo walked to the counter, his fingers brushing over an unopened herb packet. His Qi Luck Heavenly Eye pulsed; faint, unnatural grey wisps hovered in the air, clinging to the herbs—the telltale sign of rot and inferior quality.

"This batch of licorice and angelica root is already molding," Shen Mo said calmly. "If you use these, the potency will be halved, and it’ll cause cold-stomach ailments in patients. For the elderly and children who need these to recover, it’s a death sentence."

Su Ya’s eyes widened. "You... how did you know? I haven't even inspected them yet."

"Just trust me." Shen Mo reached deep into the shelf and pulled out a jar of aged astragalus, his movements fluid and precise. "Use this instead. It’s well-aged, its medicinal nature is purely 'yang,' and it’s strong enough to mask the mold and draw out the vitality of the other herbs."

Su Ya took the jar, skeptical, but as she opened it and caught the scent of the aged herbs, her shoulders dropped. The rich, earthy aroma instantly soothed her frayed nerves. She looked at Shen Mo with a complex expression—gratitude, yes, but also a newfound, firm respect.

However, the trouble was far from over. The next morning, at the first hint of dawn, the clinic remained shuttered. Several assistants walked out, heads hung low, muttering about quitting.

"Mr. Shen, are we really going to leave?" a young apprentice asked timidly, clutching a broom, his eyes wide with fear.

Shen Mo continued organizing the medicine cabinet, his hands never stopping. He only replied with two words: "What’s coming, will come."

A luxury carriage sat at the mouth of the alley, its paint reflecting the sunlight with a blinding glare. Li Fugui stepped out, dressed in fine silk robes, a mocking smile on his lips as he toyed with a string of polished prayer beads. He scanned the desolate clinic, his eyes gleaming with undisguised greed.

"Shopkeeper Su, I hear you’re a bit short on supplies?" Li Fugui pushed his way inside. "I’ve got a new shipment. Thirty percent off the usual price. As for the quality... well, you know how it is."

Su Ya kept her face cold, refusing to step aside. "Shopkeeper Li, our policy is to only stock goods from the Sect. Our reputation is worth more than our lives."

"The Sect?" Li Fugui let out a harsh laugh and clapped a hand on Shen Mo’s shoulder, his grip heavy and insulting. "Brother Shen, look how heartless your senior brother is. Zhang Lao said that anyone who dares to ask about you will face the consequences of betraying the Sect. Now that your supply line is cut, you’ll never get back on your feet. In this world, black is white and white is black. You’re all just too high and mighty."

He leaned in, lowering his voice until his spit nearly landed on Su Ya’s face. "I personally vetted this shipment. If you don’t buy it, don’t even think about getting decent herbs in this town ever again. I’ll make sure you can’t even keep your doors open."

Su Ya was shaking with rage, her nails digging into her palms, but she held her ground against the naked threat. "Ji Shi Tang may be on the verge of bankruptcy, but we don't sell poison. If something goes wrong, can you take the responsibility?"

Li Fugui’s expression darkened, then he flashed a fake smile. "Shopkeeper Su, you’re so righteous. But let’s be real: in this world, medicine is life. You can cure a disease, but you can’t cure poverty. Watching your patients die because you have no medicine—that’s a feeling you won’t like."

Shen Mo finally spoke. "Shopkeeper Li, since you said you vetted these yourself, why don't you let me take a look?"

Li Fugui froze, then let out a shrill, grating laugh. "Shen Mo? You, a disgraced waste of space, think you’re qualified to judge my goods? Even Zhang Lao didn't dare to complain. Who do you think you are?"

Shen Mo ignored the taunt and walked toward the wooden crates Li Fugui had brought. He crouched down, his fingertips touching the lid as he fully opened his Qi Luck Heavenly Eye. Golden light flared.

In an instant, the crates emitted a nauseating, grey-black miasma, mixed with the acrid stench of sulfur and rot.

"These three crates of licorice were fumigated with sulfur to hide the mold. They aren't even five years old, yet you’re passing them off as ten-year-old stock," Shen Mo said, his voice cold. "Those two crates of angelica? The roots are broken and infested with worms. You patched them with dirt, but you didn't even bother to wash them. And this white atractylodes? It’s not even that—it’s common atractylodes. The medicinal properties are the exact opposite. Using this will worsen cold-dampness and could even trigger acute abdominal pain."

Dead silence filled the room.

Li Fugui’s face drained of color. He stumbled back, crashing into a medicine cabinet with a loud, jarring thud. He hadn't expected this seemingly dull, disgraced disciple to see through his carefully crafted fraud. Fear made the veins on his forehead bulge.

"You... you’re lying!" Li Fugui shrieked, trying to regain his composure. "Shen Mo, your medical skills are gone! You’re just spouting nonsense. Who would believe you? If you dare ruin my reputation, I’ll make sure there’s not a bone left of you!"

Su Ya’s gaze was sharp as a blade. "Li Fugui, my clinic may be broken, but our reputation is our life. If you dare sell fake medicine, I will report you to the authorities and make sure you lose everything!"

"Report me?" Li Fugui sneered, his eyes dark and venomous. "Su Ya, do you really think you can win? In this city, I am the law. Just wait and see."

He glared at Shen Mo, then turned and stomped out, his footsteps heavy, each one sounding like a nail being driven into a coffin.

Su Ya watched him go, her fists clenched. She knew Li Fugui wouldn't let this go.

"Shopkeeper Su, what... what do we do?" the young apprentice asked, his voice trembling.

Su Ya closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the panic was gone, replaced by grim resolve. "Investigate him. Check every supply record for Li Fugui over the last three years. If any patient was harmed by his fake medicine, I’ll find the proof. Even if it costs me my life, I’ll make him pay."

Shen Mo pulled back his Heavenly Eye, his expression calm. He knew this was only the beginning. Behind Li Fugui lay an even deeper layer of black mist. That darkness, intertwined with the arrogance of Zhang Lao, formed an inescapable web—and they were right at the center of it.

By dusk, a light rain began to fall. Shen Mo stood in the back courtyard, his robes soaked, though he didn't seem to notice. He watched the direction Li Fugui’s carriage had disappeared, his mind running through cold, calculated simulations.

Su Ya walked up to him and handed him a dry cloth.

"Shen Mo, thank you. If it weren't for you, I would have..."

"It’s not 'if'," Shen Mo interrupted, taking the cloth. "It’s 'would have.' Li Fugui’s connections run deeper than we thought. Cutting off our supply was just to force you to compromise. If you had, he would have held your life in his hands."

Su Ya frowned. "But how do we break the deadlock?"

Shen Mo didn't answer. He just looked up at the night sky. A bolt of lightning tore through the clouds, illuminating the direction of Li Fugui’s mansion in the distance. There, a faint, intense black mist seemed to pulse, as if flames were dancing in the dark.

"Look," Shen Mo pointed, his voice barely a whisper.

Su Ya followed his finger, but she saw only the dark, rainy night.

"Shen Mo?"

"It’s nothing." Shen Mo turned and walked inside. "Shopkeeper Su, have the assistants stay the night. Lock the windows tight and fill the wood shed with water."

Su Ya felt a chill in her heart. She had a sinking feeling that something truly terrifying was closing in.

Deep in the night, the rain slowed to a drizzle, with only the occasional rumble of thunder sounding like a muffled drumbeat.

The clinic was brightly lit, everyone watching the doors with bated breath. Shen Mo sat at his desk, a few vials of medicine in front of him. His Qi Luck Heavenly Eye was slightly active, fixed on the end of the street.

There, several black shadows were creeping closer. Their movements were light, almost silent, but they left behind an unmistakable trail of grey-black miasma. It was the same stench as the moldy herbs, but far more vicious—a desire for destruction, a foulness that felt like it had crawled out of hell.

Shen Mo’s eyes were cold, a faint, humorless curve touching his lips. There was no joy in that smile, only the anticipation of the coming storm.

"They're here."

He pushed the medicine vials to the edge of the table and stood up, walking toward the courtyard gate. His footsteps were light and steady, ringing out clearly in the silent night.

Su Ya followed close behind, gripping a short blade, the texture of the hilt digging into her palm. She didn't know why Li Fugui was attacking in the dead of night, but her intuition told her this would be a night of life and death.

Outside the gate, the shadows had reached the eaves. Rain dripped from their cloaks, vanishing into the puddles.

The first strange sound came from the wood shed—a crisp, abrupt noise, like the cracking of ice.