The morning after my successful concoction, a new kind of energy filled our pavilion. The frantic, desperate edge to our training was replaced by the quiet, confident hum of a plan set in motion. We now possessed the perfect bait: a single, Tier 3 Spiritual Insight Pill, an alchemical achievement far beyond the known capabilities of anyone in Wu Tan City.
We sat at the table in the main hall, the pill resting between us. It glowed with a soft, internal silver light, its mere presence seeming to sharpen our thoughts.
"So we have our lure," Ming said, idly tapping the table. "How do we get it in the water without the fish knowing who's holding the rod?"
"We can't use the Mitel Auction House," I reasoned, thinking aloud. "It's too high-profile. They would demand to know the source, and their appraisers, while skilled, might draw the attention of the Primer Clan's own alchemists. We need a channel that is both reputable and discreet, a place where rumors are born."
My strategy was to create a legend, not just sell a product. This pill couldn't be seen as something new. It had to be framed as something old—a lost elixir, a relic from a bygone age, a singular treasure rediscovered by my reclusive 'father'. A story would travel faster and create more intrigue than a simple sale.
"First," I said, "it needs the right packaging."
I went to my 'father's' study. The room was filled with ancient books and artifacts. After a thorough search, I found exactly what I was looking for: a small, heavy box carved from dark, lustrous jade. Its surface was cool to the touch, and it was etched with faded, intricate patterns. It was clearly an antique of considerable value. I lined the inside with a piece of aged, black silk from an old robe, creating a perfect, dignified resting place for our creation. The pill, nestled in the dark silk, now looked less like a fresh concoction and more like a priceless artifact that had been sealed away for centuries.
With the presentation settled, we moved on to the most critical part of the plan: the distributor.
"The three great clans are out," I stated. "That leaves the independent merchants. We need a place that deals in rare and unusual items, a place that values discretion and has deep connections to the city's wandering cultivators and mercenary guilds. Those are the communities where a rumor will spread most effectively."
Ming, who had made it his business to learn the city's layout and key establishments, nodded in understanding. "The Hundred Treasures Pavilion, on the north side of the city. It's not as big as the Mitel Auction House, but it has a reputation for handling unique consignments. Its owner is an old fox who's been in business for fifty years. If anyone can start a fire with a single spark, it's him."
"Perfect," I said. "And we won't go near it ourselves."
Our plan was to use the trusted servant who had previously acted as our informant. She was loyal, discreet, and her connection to us was already established as that of a servant to the mysterious Master Bai. Her involvement would be seen as natural.
We gave her the ornate jade box and a carefully rehearsed set of instructions. She was to approach the owner of the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, a man named Treasurer Meng. She would claim the pill was a family heirloom that her master, in need of funds for his extensive research, had reluctantly authorized for sale. She was to stress its mysterious origins and its unique, mind-enhancing properties, but feign ignorance of the exact details. Her role was to be the humble messenger of a reclusive and eccentric master.
From the dusty, cluttered interior of the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, Treasurer Meng watched the servant from the Bai estate approach. He was a shrewd old man with eyes that had seen a lifetime of deals, bargains, and swindles. He had heard the whispers about the new arrivals in the eastern manor—the mysterious guests who had bested the Xiao Clan at the auction and the beautiful young lady with an uncanny knowledge of herbs. When the servant presented the jade box, his professional curiosity was piqued.
"My master, Bai Zemin, has authorized the sale of this small family heirloom," the servant said respectfully, repeating her lines perfectly. "He is in need of funds for his research. He says it is an ancient pill, with the effect of clearing the mind and granting a moment of deep insight."
Treasurer Meng took the heavy jade box. The quality of the carving alone told him this was no ordinary item. He opened it, and his breath caught in his throat. He was no alchemist, but he had handled countless pills in his fifty years of trade. He had never seen one like this. The swirling silver patterns, the pure, calming fragrance, the stable, potent energy it radiated—it was clearly a treasure of an exceptionally high grade. It was far beyond the Tier 2 pills produced by Jia Lie Bi.
"This… is remarkable," he murmured, his sharp eyes gleaming. He knew, instantly, that this was the kind of item that could build legends. A public auction would be too vulgar. This required a more finessed approach.
"Very well," he said to the servant, his mind already spinning. "Tell your master that the Hundred Treasures Pavilion would be honored to handle the sale of such a treasure. We will find a discerning buyer who appreciates its true worth."
After the servant departed, Treasurer Meng did not place the pill on a public shelf. Instead, he sealed it away in his private vault. He then began his work. He was a master of the market, and he knew that the value of an item like this was not just in the pill itself, but in the story surrounding it.
He started the rumors himself.
That afternoon, he had a private tea with the captain of the Stone Fist Mercenaries, one of his best clients. "A curious thing happened today, Captain," he'd said casually. "An ancient pill, a lost elixir from a forgotten age, has come into my possession. They say it doesn't increase Dou Qi, but can grant a moment of true enlightenment, perhaps allowing one to break through a long-held bottleneck in their techniques…"
He told a similar story to a wealthy independent cultivator, and another to a traveling merchant with connections in the imperial capital. He let the whispers spread, each telling slightly more exaggerated than the last. Within two days, the story had taken on a life of its own, spreading like wildfire through the taverns, training grounds, and back alleys of Wu Tan City.
The story was no longer about a simple Tier 3 pill. It was about the 'Sage's Enlightenment Pill', a legendary treasure that could help a Dou Master touch the barrier to becoming a Dou Grandmaster. It was the lost creation of a Dou Emperor, a relic that held the key to ultimate power.
Back in our pavilion, we waited. Our informant kept us apprised of the spreading rumors, and we watched with satisfaction as our plan unfolded exactly as I had predicted. We had cast our line, and the bait was now attracting every hungry fish in the pond. We just needed to wait for the right one to bite.
On the third day, our other hired hand—the nervous mercenary who had bought the pill for us—delivered a message. He had been paid to simply watch the entrance of the Hundred Treasures Pavilion from a cafe across the street.
"A group from the Galeo Clan just went inside," the message read. "They were led by a steward I recognized. He's one of the alchemist Jia Lie Bi's direct subordinates."
Ming and I looked at each other, a silent, triumphant understanding passing between us. The fish was circling the bait.
We waited for another hour. The mercenary's second message arrived. "The steward just left the shop. He looked… troubled. Very serious. He went straight back towards the Galeo Clan manor."
Jia Lie Bi had been alerted. A pill that surpassed his own skill had appeared on his turf, attributed to a mysterious new master alchemist. His professional pride would be wounded, his position as the city's top alchemist challenged. And more importantly, his paranoia—the paranoia of a man with dark secrets to hide—would be ignited. He would have to investigate. He would have to learn the identity of "Master Bai Zemin." He would have to know if this newcomer was a threat to his operations.
Ming leaned back in his chair, a slow, satisfied smile on his face as he looked at me.
"The line's gone taut, Qing-er," he said, his voice a low, predatory purr.
"Now," I replied, my own smile just as sharp, "we wait for him to pull."