The scent of herbs filled the air.
Feng Hao’s body lightened.
His fatigue vanished.
“This is the Divine Farmer’s Canon, created by Shennong himself.
It can cure all illnesses and neutralize all poisons.”
Burning Elder’s voice was solemn as he explained.
“Take it.”
The canon floated toward Feng Hao.
He reached out and caught it.
“Drop your blood on it.”
Feng Hao didn’t hesitate.
He bit his left index finger.
A drop of crimson blood fell onto the canon, slowly seeping in.
When it was fully absorbed, the canon dissolved into specks of light and merged into his body.
“As I thought.
Only a Void Martial constitution can master the Divine Farmer’s Canon.”
Burning Elder watched quietly.
A moment later, Feng Hao opened his eyes.
His face was bitter.
Reading the method for condensing a medicine pill recorded in the canon made him want to cry.
The sheer quantity of herbs required was staggering.
It made his scalp tingle.
“Why is it like this?”
He remembered his father once saying that a medicine refiner needed only about a hundred types of herbs to condense a pill.
But the Divine Farmer’s Canon listed no fewer than ten thousand.
“You foolish boy.
You don’t know how fortunate you are.”
Burning Elder sneered.
“If word got out that the Divine Farmer’s Canon is in your hands, imagine the storm it would cause.
Besides—to cure all illnesses and neutralize all poisons, how could it work without the corresponding medicinal properties?”
Feng Hao understood.
The higher the canon’s rank, the more herbs it required.
But tens of thousands of herbs—when would he ever gather them all?
“Master.”
He looked at the old man with pleading eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that.
If I had any herbs left, do you think I’d be holding on to them?”
Burning Elder rolled his eyes.
Back in his day, he had expended enormous effort to condense a perfect medicine pill.
And maintaining and perfecting the pill consumed herbs constantly.
How could he possibly have any left?
“Then it’s useless.”
Feng Hao’s face fell.
All that excitement for nothing.
Just take any herb listed in the canon and condense a ‘Void Pill.’ Are you really that stupid?”
Burning Elder scolded him like a blacksmith disappointed in his apprentice.
Feng Hao hadn’t known that.
Looking at the old man’s furious glare, he smiled sheepishly.
“Figure it out yourself.
And remember your three-year vow.”
Burning Elder snorted.
His translucent body dissolved into particles and returned to the ring.
Feng Hao exhaled and stood up.
It was already late.
He headed back to the Feng residence.
Lying in bed, his thoughts wandered.
Soon, he was fast asleep.
The next morning, he skipped morning practice.
After completing thirty cycles of the Tiger Movement Chapter in his courtyard, he went inside, gathered his life savings—three hundred-odd gold coins—and headed for the market.
“Come take a look!
Leopard beast hide, perfectly intact, only three hundred gold!”
“Refined iron fifty-pound hammer, just seventy gold!”
“High-quality herbs, fifty gold a plant!”
The moment he reached the market entrance, a wave of noise hit him.
Following the calls, he walked slowly to a herb stall.
The stall owner was an old man in plain clothes.
On his counter were several hundred herbs of various kinds, their fragrance swirling in the air.
Scanning the selection, Feng Hao spotted two plants listed in the Divine Farmer’s Canon.
“How much for this Clarity Grass and this Fire Vine?”
He pointed at the plants—one shimmering with moisture, the other blood-red.
The old man glanced at them.
“Clarity Grass, forty-five gold each.
Fire Vine, one hundred twenty gold per foot.”
Feng Hao’s brow furrowed.
He had only three hundred fifty-two gold coins saved up.
At these prices, he wouldn’t get far.
For the first time in his life, he felt the pinch of poverty.
He also realized how much the herbal treatments he had been receiving must have cost.
“Old sir.
I have three hundred fifty-two gold in total.
Three Clarity Grass and two feet of Fire Vine.
Deal?”
He placed all his money on the counter.
The old man hesitated.
Seeing that Feng Hao wasn’t bluffing, he finally nodded.
“Alright.
“Thank you, old sir.”
Feng Hao breathed a small sigh of relief.
He handed over the coins.
Just as he was putting the herbs into his cloth bag, a grating voice rang out beside him.
“Oh, if it isn’t our esteemed Young Master Feng.”
Feng Hao looked up.
A richly dressed, handsome young man approached, flanked by four guards.
“What’s the matter?
The Feng family cut off your supply?
Had to come buy your own?”
The young man sneered, his voice sharp.
A few passersby turned to look.
“That’s the Feng family’s eldest son, and that’s Yang Kui of the Yang family.”
“I heard the Feng family’s eldest son swore in the Wan family hall that he’d defeat a high-rank Great Martial Master from the Fengyue Academy in three years.”
“I heard he’s not the Feng family’s eldest son anymore.”
The crowd murmured, pointing at Feng Hao.
Since the incident at the Wan residence, Feng Hao’s name had spread through Yulan City.
Everyone wanted to see how a mediocre Martial Apprentice could rise to Great Martial Master in three years.
Most of them were just waiting to laugh.
“Move.”
Feng Hao’s voice was cold.
The Yang family was one of Yulan City’s four great clans.
Yang Kui was a member—and an early fourth-rank Martial Apprentice.
“You think you can order me around?
You waste.”
Yang Kui stepped forward, closing the distance.
His eyes were full of contempt.
“You won’t move?”
Feng Hao’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“What, you want to fight?”
Yang Kui wasn’t afraid.
He reached out to grab Feng Hao’s herb bag.
Feng Hao’s fist slammed into his chest, sending him stumbling back.
“You hit me?”
Yang Kui clutched his numb chest, stunned.
He hadn’t expected a mere third-rank Martial Apprentice to throw the first punch.
“You piece of trash.”
His face twisted.
He charged at Feng Hao.
The onlookers scattered, sensing trouble.
Feng Hao lowered his body slightly, arching his back.
He pushed off his back foot and lunged forward like a tiger, meeting Yang Kui head-on.