These weren’t pills Ji Yunzhi was giving away lightly.
They were his pride!
He didn’t cobble them together for some sect elder. Didn’t make them under pressure, didn’t rush it just to win a bid.
His golden eyes narrowed, glancing sideways as if daring anyone to call him sentimental.
“I made them because I wanted to. And I want you to have them, storekeeper.”
There was a pause.
Then Ji Yunzhi added dryly. “Not because I like you or anything, storekeeper.”
“…” Hao blinked.
Coughed.
“Uhk – !”
Actually choked on air a little.
Bro. You didn’t have to say that.
You just made it weird. Real weird.
Hao rubbed the back of his neck, his lips doing that trembling thing when you’re trying not to laugh at the worst possible moment.
Ji Yunzhi looked away, face expressionless.
But the tips of his ears had turned undeniably pink.
Pink.
What the hell. What the fuck you blushing for?
Even Hao’s brain had stopped to stare.
This man walked in bald, golden-eyed, all attitude and vinegar, and now he was out here dropping tsundere lines with color in his ears?
Hao could already hear what the readers would be typing if this were a webnovel:”
“WAIT HE’S BLUSHING???”
“Ain’t no way this really happening.”
“STOREKEEPER BLINK TWICE IF YOU NEED A RESTRAINING ORDER”
“Oh hell nahhh, man. That sounded kinda g – ”
“Broski handing out pills and feelings. Next he gon’ write a poem.”
Hao looked down at the pill container in his hand.
It was the first time he felt oddly reluctant to accept a free gift.
And not because the system had rules about it – the system had absolutely zero issue with freebies, as long as the giver did it willingly and with proper intentions.
Which, clearly, Ji Yunzhi did.
But still…
It just made Hao feel like he was accidentally stepping into the male lead role of someone else’s alchemy romance subplot.
’I’m still keeping it, though.’ Hao thought, slipping the bottle away with the precision of a man who had never rejected free loot in his life.
And off in the corner, Dou Xinshi squinted.
So hard as if he was trying to read through space-time.
Not with cultivation sense. Not with suspicion.
But with a deadly, irrational intensity.
He hadn’t heard the conversation clearly, but he could feel it in his soul –
That bald golden-eyed guy was getting way too familiar with the Esteemed One!
And for what? For having the audacity to collapse in the middle of the store and then hand over some cheap pills?
Absolutely not. Even he could afford to keel over and throw out some medicinal scraps if that’s all it took to get on the Esteemed One’s good side.
Hell, he had a whole bottle of qi-recovery pills aged to perfection – or “rot” – in his drawer. Should he bring those tomorrow?
They could go band for band, pill for pill, cryst – uh coins for coins, see who drops first.
Dou Xinshi’s fingers twitched.
He wasn’t the kind to hold grudges.
He was the kind to schedule them.
’One day.’ Dou Xinshi thought grimly.
’Maybe in five years. No – ten. When I’m stronger, faster, spicier.’
’We’ll have our rematch.’
Rematch?
Ji Yunzhi, if he could somehow hear that thought, would’ve frozen and looked around with a visible chill up his spine.
Man… I don’t even know you.
What do you mean rematch? We never even fought?!
Ji Yunzhi cupped his fists and gave a brief nod, expressing his gratitude once again – this time, much shorter.
“…Thanks again, storekeeper.”
Then he turned on his heel and headed straight for the aisles, leaving the awkward moment behind without a second thought.
Now that he was free from the cursed obsession with Cola, and more than pleased with the outcome of the new batch, it was time to move on.
Time for the next project.
But what?
He had already tested Lime Fizz. That one had some interesting side effects. Not as explosive as Cola, but definitely unique.
Still, not what he was looking for.
“Let’s see…”
He walked to the back, glass fridge doors reflecting his bald head like a polished melon.
Inside, the cold shelf shimmered with strange drinks.
His gaze passed over the three he recognized.
Cola. Lime Fizz. Peach Oolong Tea.
He hadn’t tried the peach one yet.
And then, just beside it – something new.
A slim silver-and-blue can with bold red accents.
Two charging bulls locked in a headbutt beneath a rising sun.
The name stamped across the middle: Wing Blast.
“…Wing Blast?” Ji Yunzhi read out loud, squinting slightly.
The name screamed sky techniques or flight boost.
Was it a movement skill in a can?
He instantly got interested.
He plucked one of each off the shelf – Lime Fizz, Peach Oolong Tea, and Wing Blast – and walked to the counter.
Transaction done. Crystals paid.
He returned to the corner he always claimed.
Ji Yunzhi set the cans down, eyeing them.
’Hmm. Peach Oolong Tea or Wing Blast?’
He popped open the Lime Fizz first and downed it like a man drinking plain water.
“Brr – huh.”
A loud fizzy BURP echoed.
Unfazed, he wiped his mouth, then pulled the tabs on the other two – but didn’t drink them yet.
His golden eyes gleamed.
Then changed.
He activated his Spirit-Forging Eyes.
Compared to before, the technique had clearly grown more refined.
The glow wasn’t just deeper – it now layered in patterns, cycling through three focus states.
Originally a fusion of Void-Piercing Sight and Essence-Seeking Gaze, the technique let him see through illusion and pick up trace components in materials.
But after weeks of overuse during the Cola pill project, something awakened.
The vision stabilized.
The strain on his meridians lessened.
The clarity improved.
And on top of that –
He had added a new element.
A strange, broken technique he’d bought off a weird old merchant in Sovereign City for half a grilled mantis skewer and ten copper coins.
Dust-Scent Mapping.
It was originally meant for hunting rare alchemy weeds in volcanic ash, relying on faint spiritual residue. Extremely limited.
Almost useless on its own.
Downside? It caused nasal bleeding if used for more than ten minutes.
But Ji Yunzhi had patched it in.