Book 1 Chapter 17 Springwater miracle and a Rescue mission
…
Days turned into a week. Rowan spent his mornings tending to the shop, which was mostly empty of customers due to the unsettling commotion. He spent his afternoons in the back, meticulously following the alchemy instructions, substituting guesswork, common-sense herbal knowledge, and sheer desperation for the elusive 'Qi-fire.'
He had gathered the herbs needed for the Basic Wound Salve—easy to find, inexpensive ingredients that were the staples of any herbalist. He crushed them, mixed them, and added a specific ratio of water, all as the manual instructed. The manual mentioned adding a drop of 'purified Qi essence,' which he obviously couldn't do.
The results were... disappointing. A greenish-brown sludge that smelled faintly of rotten eggs and disappointment. It was, however, a halfway decent herbal poultice, even if it lacked the incredible healing power of a true salve. It would still be useful for regular cuts and scrapes.
This was when he accidentally looked at his floating grid, and the Springwater he had purchased came to his view.
The Springwater vial, 1x1 size, was positioned inside the Travel Bag, a silent promise of automated healing. He suddenly had an epiphany and the desire to experiment. The items in the strange bag are not useless in the outside world. He could actually take out a stone knife, and it would last for 12 seconds before disappearing. He did not know how long the Springwater would last, so he decided to experiment on it.
What if I use it for the salve?
He carefully extracted the vial from the grid. As soon as it materialized in his hand, a small, subtle timer appeared above it, visible only to him. 0:09.
He unscrewed the tiny cork and poured the contents—a mere two tablespoons of pure, clear water—into his latest batch of sludge.
0:05.
He quickly corked the empty vial and put it down on the table.
0:01.
Pop!
The vial on the table disappeared, and a fraction of a second later, the icon for Springwater in his inventory grid flickered, now showing a full vial again.
Rowan stared at his hands, then at the empty table, then at the sludgy mixture in the bowl.
"That's... that's not just water," he whispered, staring at the perfectly clear, automatically refilling water. "That's infinitely pure water. Maybe... maybe that's what cultivators call 'spiritual dew' or something equally pretentious."
He stirred the two tablespoons of Springwater into his herbal paste. The change was immediate and astonishing. The greenish-brown sludge shimmered, and within seconds, it solidified into a perfectly textured, pale green salve that smelled like a spring morning.
He had created his first successful item.
The Basic Wound Salve (Mortal-grade).
His system, however, was silent. No notification of 'Alchemy Level Up' or 'New Recipe Learned.' The Springwater, an item from the Strange Bag, was the key, the binding agent that replaced the 'pure Qi' needed to create a stable compound.
Rowan was ecstatic. With the continuous supply of Springwater, he could now mass-produce Basic Healing salve for his use! It might only be a mortal-grade salve, good for superficial wounds, but in a small town, this was essentially a miracle cure.
He spent the next few days in a productive frenzy, creating dozens of small, corked wooden jars filled with the salve.
…
A week after the Master Cui incident—and four days after Rowan's first successful alchemy creation—the peace of Slow Turtle Town was shattered.
Rowan was in the shop, checking inventory (and occasionally watching his Springwater vial vanish and reappear in a delightful little magic trick), when two female customers entered the shop, talking about some gossip as they entered through the front door.
"Have you heard? The expedition... they haven't returned!"
"Really? What a pity. The Mayor must be furious and worried for his own daughter…"
While the two conversed, Rowan listened behind the counter. He suddenly could not help but interrupt.
Rowan put down his ledger. "Excuse me… The expedition, madam? Which one?"
The two women seemed to be eager to share the news as they approached Rowan. "The one Mayor Kang Rolong sent! The one to deal with the bandits near the Whispering Pass and the border! They were supposed to be back days ago! A whole troop of the town's best guards and swordsmen! They've been gone for a week with no message!"
Rowan felt a sudden chill, a sense of dread that had nothing to do with the two women. Bandits in this world, even 'normal' ones, could easily have a low-level Martial Body cultivator or two mixed in, making them lethal to ordinary mortals.
…
Later that day, a crowd had gathered near the Mayor's estate. Kang Rolong, the Mayor of Slow Turtle Town, a battle-hardened man with a neatly trimmed beard, was distraught. He was not worried about the gold or the prestige; his mind was focused on two people.
"My Hana and my Hajin," he choked out to the crowd. "My daughter, Kang Hana, was with the expedition! My son, Kang Hajin, was also with her! I have already waited too long. They are both capable swordsmen, but a week with no word... I must send a rescue team!"
The atmosphere was electric with fear and a desire to help. The Mayor was offering a substantial reward—50 silver taels, a fortune in this town—to anyone who would join the search.
Rowan watched the proceedings from across the street. Good for the Mayor. Terrible for everyone else. This is their problem, not my problem. I'm a mere ordinary but handsome guy. I should stay safe and keep my head down.
He turned to leave, resolving to barricade his doors for a few more days, when a voice boomed from the crowd.
"Mayor! I've gone through the names of the few brave volunteers so far! We have twenty-plus men ready to depart at dawn!"
"Read them out, old man!" the Mayor insisted, wiping a tear from his eye.
The town scribe, an ancient fellow with a parchment, cleared his throat and began to read a short list of names.
"...We have the strong Guard Lin, the young Iron-Fisted Lu, the nimble Butcher Wei... and... and the young herbalist, Han Rowan."
Rowan froze mid-step. His feet felt like they had suddenly been cemented to the cobblestones.
"Han Rowan?" he mouthed, turning slowly toward the scribe. "Wait, me? What in the absolute—"
Before he could shout a coherent protest, Mayor Kang Rolong's eyes locked onto him.
"Young master Han! A brilliant herbalist in our town! A man who was praised by Elder Jing! Your name has been added! A perfect fit! Your knowledge of herbs and the road, your courage! You are a godsend!" The Mayor rushed over and grabbed Rowan's hands in a grip of steel, tears still streaming down his face. "Please! You must help me find my daughter! I will double the reward for her safe return!"
"Mayor, sir, I assure you, there has been a terrible, terrible mistake!" Rowan stammered, trying to pull his hands away. "I am a pharmacist, not a warrior! I only have the shop in mind!"
"Nonsense!" the Mayor cried, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. "You are a man who is gifted with knowledge and medical hands. It is precisely the kind of hands and mind my rescue team needs! The gods have delivered you!"
The crowd, relieved that their children wouldn't have to go, started to cheer for the brave young Master Han.
"Long live Master Han! He'll bring back the Mayor's children!"
"Master Han! The new town hero!"
Rowan stared in disbelief, his phlegmatic temperament crumbling under the weight of accidental heroism. He, the mortal who couldn't cultivate, was now on a rescue mission for a swordswoman and her brother, heading into bandit territory, all because he lied to a guard about an armless psychopath.
Who in the name of the Jade Emperor put my name on that list?!
…
Unbeknownst to Rowan, in a lavish, heavily guarded private room within the sprawling manor of Hong Tong, the tyrannical merchant of Slow Turtle Town, a portly man was nursing a cup of expensive tea.
The man was Master Cui (Cui Tong). His face was paler than usual, twisted with a vicious satisfaction, and his sleeves, which hung empty and neatly folded, were a constant, throbbing reminder of his new, armless state. He sat at a low table, attended by two nervous servants provided by Hong Tong.
Hong Tong himself, a gaudy man with a gold chain thicker than a snake, sat opposite him, pouring wine.
"Your vengeance is sweet, Master Cui, I trust?" Hong Tong asked, a greedy gleam in his eyes.
"Sweet as bile, Merchant Hong. That boy... Han Rowan..." Master Cui hissed the name. "He is too cautious. Too smart for a mere mortal. I knew he wouldn't leave this town until he hunted me down. But now, he must leave."
He took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea, the servant having to guide the cup to his lips. "I was able to convince that weak-willed town scribe that 'Master Han' was the perfect candidate for a man who 'is important in the battlefield' and had 'unmatched herbal knowledge.' The boy will be cornered. He can't run from the Mayor's decree without losing his reputation and this precious shop."
Hong Tong chuckled, a wet, rattling sound. "And once he is out of town, he is vulnerable. My men can handle everything, even if that guy is a cultivator… As a matter of my payment?"
Cui Tong sneered. "My payment, as agreed, is the Green Herb shop—its deeds, its profits, and its connections. You can call yourself the owner, and I can be your 'advisor' once this little matter is sorted."
He leaned back, his eyes flashing with madness. "Rowan is walking right into a hornet's nest. He'll either be killed by the bandits, or he'll run, and in running, he will end up in our hands. He'll leave the shop unguarded and disgraced."
Suddenly, his face froze and he asked while looking at Hong Tong. "And if he survives?" Cui Tong asked, a nervous tremor in his voice.
Hong Tong let out a short, cold laugh. "Then I'll just have to surprise him on the road. A few of my secret soldiers, a crossbow, a lucky hit... he is only a mere mortal, even if he is freakishly strong. With the information you gave me about him, I think that he is nothing without his toys."
Cui Tong looked down at his empty sleeves, his face a mask of silent, simmering hatred. "Yes, Merchant Hong. By the time this 'rescue mission' is over, the name Han Rowan will be a faded memory, and the shop will be yours."
…
Back in the shop, Rowan was still reeling. He had tried every polite excuse in the book: a sudden fever, a fragile constitution, an urgent need to re-categorize his medicinal herbs—all to no avail. He was conscripted, lauded, and expected to depart at dawn.
He retreated to the safety of his back room and immediately opened his system.
"Fine," he grumbled, folding his arms. "If I'm going to be a sacrificial lamb, I'm going to be a well-armed sacrificial lamb."
He looked at his inventory.
Coins: 0.2
The first thing he did was sell his two equipped Malignant Marbles (rocks). They were cheap, had a long cooldown, and only did 2 damage. He needed the coins more.
Coins: 2.2 (Sold 2 rocks for 1 coin each)
He opened the shop.
Shop Items:
Yellow fruit: 4 coins/ 1x3/ Heal 3HP & recover 1 Qi every 5 seconds....Thorns: 2 coins/ 1x1/ +1 damage to attackers when attacked.Leather Cap: 4/ 2x2/ 5 defense/eye protection (cannot be blinded) (Reserved)Wooden sword: 4 coins/ 1x2/ 1-3 damage/ 0.8 Qi/ 1.8 cooldown/ 3 range/ 6 seconds of use before disappearing. (Reserved)
The shop has not been refreshed, as he was not in battle, and he needed to use one coin to refresh it. Rowan did not want to waste a coin, so he decided to just browse the items.
"If I buy a wooden sword, then it might be useful in combat, but my defense is still lacking," he muttered while looking at his options.
"I now only have the stone knife as a weapon. Should I fight it in a battle of attrition, or should I arm myself with a faster wooden knife?" This thought weighed in Rowan's mind.
He then looked at the storage space and found a few things he deemed useless and quickly sold them to the shop. But all of it is worth only about 0.8 coins. So now his total coin is 3. He has sold everything except for the three manuals and the two Thorns.
"If I sell the two Thorns, then I would get 5 coins. But…" Rowan's eyes suddenly went wide, and he realized something. He drags one of the Thorns and equips it in the Travel bag slot. So now, he has two equipped Thorns.
Without thinking much anymore, Rowan decided to sell the other Thorn in the shop.
Coins: 4
He quickly bought the wooden sword from the shop and equipped it in the Travel bag slot. He now has no empty slots available.
Rowan sighed and looked at the bubbling '0' beside the Coins. But this was less than the burden of going into a fight unprepared.
"At least now I have two powerful automated weapons," he thought, zipping his system away.
He quickly grabbed a leather waterskin and a canvas bag to cover his strange sackcloth bag. He filled the waterskin with water from his back room, which was normal water, not the two tablespoons of miracle Springwater. He then filled the canvas bag with his numerous jars of Basic Wound Salve, ready to dispense to the (likely) injured rescue team and the Mayor's missing children.
He was a reluctant, magically-armed, and secretly genius pharmacist, about to embark on a journey orchestrated by a vengeful, armless psychopath.
Rowan stood up, adjusted his travel robe, and felt the slight pull of the very real, but very low-defense, mysterious vest. He was now a hero, or a fool, or both.
He looked out the window at the rising sun.
"Well, maybe after all of this, a kiss would suffice, right?" he muttered, thinking of the beautiful daughter of the mayor.
But he suddenly shakes his head. "That girl would rather poke me with a sword than smooch my handsome and soft cheeks," he narcissistically said while he took a step out of the wooden door.