Chapter 28: Partnership

"How much is this phonograph? I’ll buy it!"

Li Banfeng was smitten with the phonograph. Apart from anything else, its steam-driven mechanism made it a precision piece of machinery, something even Yuezhou didn't have. If he brought it back to Yuezhou and sold it as a collectible, he would surely make a fortune. Even if he kept it for himself, it would be a delightful item to own.

Shopkeeper Feng wiped the phonograph, a reluctant expression on his face. "This was handmade in Amikan. There are only two of them in Puro Province. I truly don't want to sell it."

Li Banfeng understood the implication: the shopkeeper wanted more money.

"Shopkeeper Feng, name your price."

Shopkeeper Feng pondered for a moment, then held up two fingers.

Little Fatty's eyes widened. "Twenty thousand?"

Shopkeeper Feng shook his head. "Huan currency, two hundred thousand!"

"Two hundred thousand!" Little Fatty gave a bewildered smile. "Shopkeeper, you must really think we're fools."

Shopkeeper Feng replied, "It's worth the price. There's no room for negotiation on this one!"

Li Banfeng looked at the phonograph. It featured an antique redwood cabinet with three brass horns on top, the rightmost horn still gently emitting steam.

"The forest flowers have withered, my heart buried too; when spring swallows return another day, where will I be..."

The poignant melody still echoed in his ears, making Li Banfeng desire the phonograph even more. But two hundred thousand was far beyond Li Banfeng's reach. His tuition and living expenses were earned through his own labor. Li Banfeng had never possessed more than ten thousand in his entire life.

He glanced at Qin Little Fatty, who glared back. "Why are you looking at me? I've never seen that much money in my life! In my village, two hundred thousand is enough to build a house!"

A scythe for five hundred, and a house for two hundred thousand? Was he joking? Of course, this scythe wasn't an ordinary item, and Qin Little Fatty's description of a "house" was equally unclear.

Li Banfeng's gaze remained fixed on the phonograph. He estimated it could easily sell for five hundred thousand in Yuezhou. Filled with confidence about what would be the largest investment of his life, he looked at the shopkeeper, straightening his back, and declared, "Please hold this phonograph for me. I will definitely buy it!"

Shopkeeper Feng looked into Li Banfeng's eyes and felt that his words carried a special weight. He had a feeling Li Banfeng would indeed buy the phonograph.

"Alright, I'll hold it for you," the shopkeeper agreed.

I will definitely buy it!

For Li Banfeng, this phrase truly held a unique significance. At the orphanage, when he saw children outside eating popsicles, he'd said, "I will definitely buy it." In middle school, when he saw his classmates' basketball shoes, he'd said, "I will definitely buy it." In college, when he saw other students' mobile phones, he'd said, "I will definitely buy it." He bought the popsicles, the basketball shoes, and the mobile phone. This phonograph, too, he would certainly buy.

"Brother, let's go! We're running out of time!"

Qin Little Fatty pulled Li Banfeng away from Feng's General Store. The assistant sighed and asked, "Shopkeeper, when do you think this item will sell?"

The shopkeeper pondered for a moment. "I think that Mr. Li, who was just here, genuinely intends to buy it."

"What good is mere intention?" The assistant shook his head repeatedly. "Forget two hundred thousand, I doubt he even has twenty to his name!"

Little Fatty went to a blacksmith's house and bought an axe. The axe, including its handle and head, was seventy centimeters long.

Li Banfeng frowned. "You're taking that up the mountain?"

"I heard that anyone who dares to go up Bitter Mist Mountain is a tough guy. Bringing this axe should scare off at least half of them."

Little Fatty carried the axe, then went to the market to buy twenty catties of dry rations and fill two large flasks with water. He hired a carriage and headed west with Li Banfeng, towards Bitter Mist Mountain. They traveled for an entire day. Of the twenty catties of dry rations, Li Banfeng ate less than one cattie, while Qin Little Fatty consumed almost half.

Late at night, they arrived near Bitter Mist Mountain. Li Banfeng looked into the distance, seeing only the hazy night, with no mountain in sight.

Little Fatty found an inn and rented two beds in the common room. He himself felt a bit ashamed about staying in the common room and specifically explained to Li Banfeng: "I wanted a private room too, but this damn inn has raised its prices. A room costs a hundred, while a bed in the common room is only twenty. We can just squeeze in, brother."

Li Banfeng wasn't picky. He lay down on the bed and pretended to be asleep. The common room had a long, connected bed board, packed with over twenty people. There were snores, teeth grinding, sleep-talking—every kind of noise imaginable.

Once Little Fatty was fast asleep, Li Banfeng quietly slipped out of the inn, hid the key in the small grove outside, and entered his portable residence. His own room was still the best. From the orphanage until his college graduation, Li Banfeng had never had his own room. Now, even sleeping on the cold ground of his portable residence, he felt comfortable.

This time, he didn't oversleep. When Li Banfeng exited his portable residence, dawn was just breaking. Little Fatty was also up early, looking around for Li Banfeng. "Brother Li, where did you go?"

Li Banfeng mumbled a perfunctory reply. "Went to pee. Brother Fatty, are we going to sleep more?"

Little Fatty grew anxious. "Sleep what? We need to get up the mountain quickly!"

Li Banfeng followed Little Fatty westward. After walking for an hour, they saw thick fog in the distance, but no sign of the mountain. Many people were traveling alongside them. Little Fatty carried his axe and a backpack of dry rations, warily observing his surroundings.

A bald man in his thirties, with a scar near his left eye, was rushing forward and bumped right into Little Fatty from behind. Little Fatty stumbled, almost falling, and looked up at the bald man.

The bald man's eyes flashed fiercely. He turned back to Qin Little Fatty. "Are you blind? Can't you see you're blocking the way?"

Little Fatty immediately flared up. "You bumped into me, and you dare to curse?"

The bald man took a step forward. "So what if I cursed you? I didn't even beat you. Are you itching for a fight?"

Little Fatty raised his axe and waved it in front of the bald man. The bald man spat, then drew a foot-long cleaver from his waist.

Li Banfeng watched silently from the side, subtly gripping the handle of his small scythe in his right hand. The scythe was in his pocket; neither the bald man nor Little Fatty noticed it.

A man in his early thirties, with a side parting, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a gray plaid suit, approached Little Fatty and the bald man. "Gentlemen, if you have energy, use it on the mountain. Why show off here?"

Honestly, Little Fatty didn't want to fight. He was eager to go up the mountain to pick flowers, but he couldn't back down without losing face. The bald man glanced at the man with the gold-rimmed glasses, sheathed his knife, and both sides found a way to de-escalate, letting the matter drop. The bald man continued on his way, and Little Fatty put his axe away.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses whispered to Little Fatty, "Brother, is this your first time on the mountain?"

Qin Little Fatty scoffed. "I've walked Bitter Mist Mountain countless times. How could this be my first?" It was indeed his first time, but he couldn't show his apprehension in front of others.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses smiled. "Whether it's your first time or not, let me advise you: that bald man is not someone to be trifled with. He'll definitely try to ambush you on the mountain."

Little Fatty spat. "What, am I supposed to be scared of him?"

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses raised an eyebrow. "An open attack is easy to avoid, but a hidden one is hard to guard against. Not to mention you, I might even suffer at his hands on the mountain just for saying a word too many."

"I'm certainly not afraid." As he spoke, Little Fatty tightened his grip on the axe.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses then looked at Li Banfeng. Li Banfeng kept his head down and remained silent, appearing to be an honest person.

The three walked together for a moment, then vaguely saw several flags in the distance. There were yellow, green, and purple ones.

Li Banfeng asked, "Whose flags are those?"

Little Fatty glared at Li Banfeng, reminding him not to show his inexperience. He didn't know where the flags came from either, but Li Banfeng's question effectively revealed that he was a first-timer on the mountain. In truth, the man with the gold-rimmed glasses had long realized they were new to the mountain. Looking at the flags, he whispered, "The Bai, Huang, Lu, and Liu families—people from all the major apothecaries are here."

Little Fatty had heard of these apothecaries, but he didn't understand why their people would come here. After picking the Snake-Spotted Chrysanthemum, they would naturally sell it to the apothecaries. They could just wait at home for business; why bother coming to the foot of Bitter Mist Mountain to wait?

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses knew the reason but didn't explicitly state it. "My friends, let's not go any further. Let's wait here for news."

"Wait for news?" Little Fatty frowned. "Wait for what? The Snake-Spotted Chrysanthemum only blooms for one day. Every moment we wait means one less flower we can pick."

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses shook his head and pulled out a folding fan from his waist. "Do you know when the Snake-Spotted Chrysanthemum blooms?"

Little Fatty declared loudly, "It blooms today!"

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses fanned himself, speaking slowly. "It does indeed bloom today, but the exact time of blooming isn't fixed. Early morning is today, midday is today, and dusk is also today. If you go up the mountain now and the flowers don't bloom until dusk, wouldn't you have endured the poisonous mist for a whole day for nothing?"

Little Fatty scoffed. "I have cultivation; I'm not afraid of the poisonous mist."

"I know you have cultivation, but even with cultivation, you shouldn't waste it unnecessarily," the man with the gold-rimmed glasses said, looking at the vast, dense fog in the distance. "The mist on Bitter Mist Mountain would likely kill an ordinary person after three continuous hours of inhalation. Even cultivators who have just started and have no defined level can at most last seven or eight hours. Looking at how robust you are, you must be a Food Cultivator, right?"

Little Fatty remained silent. A cultivator's sect and cultivation level should never be revealed to others.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses chuckled. "If you're a Food Cultivator, well-fed, you could last over ten hours. After the flowers bloom, go up the mountain, and as long as you find the right spot, picking seventy or eighty flowers will be no problem."

Seventy or eighty flowers, at eighty-five per flower, would amount to over six thousand coins. Hearing this, Little Fatty eagerly started to move forward. The man with the gold-rimmed glasses closed his fan, blocking Little Fatty, and frowned. "Didn't I tell you it's not time yet? Wait for the flowers to bloom before going up. Reckless people like you die on that mountain in unknown numbers every year."

Little Fatty asked, huffily, "Do you know when they'll bloom?"

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses pointed his fan towards the distant flags. "I don't know, but they do. Every year, apothecaries hire two scouts to go up the mountain. Once they find the flowers blooming, they'll send a signal, and the apothecaries will send people up the mountain. We can just follow them then."

Little Fatty was taken aback. "Apothecaries send people up the mountain too?"

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses chuckled. "If they don't send people up the mountain, they won't get Snake-Spotted Chrysanthemums. What would they use to refine Snake-Spotted Pills then? If a major apothecary can't even produce Snake-Spotted Pills, wouldn't that ruin their reputation?"

Little Fatty looked around. "So many people are going up the mountain, and all the picked flowers will be sold to apothecaries. Are they still worried about not being able to buy them?"

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses fanned himself. "If only one apothecary were buying the flowers, they naturally wouldn't worry about supply, and the price would be set by them. But several major apothecaries in Medicine King Gully all want to buy the flowers. If they get into a dispute, the price will be up to the sellers."

Little Fatty still didn't understand. "Haven't they all agreed on eighty-five per plant?"

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses shook his head. "That's the price announced before going up the mountain. After coming down, it's a different story. If you run an apothecary and don't have a single Snake-Spotted flower, and the gatherers demand a high price, would you buy it or not? If you send people up to gather three to five hundred plants, you'll have a reserve, and even if you have to refine fewer pills, you won't be at the mercy of the sellers."

This man with the gold-rimmed glasses was truly an insider. His words clearly showed his deep understanding of the business on Bitter Mist Mountain. As he spoke, several people gathered around, listening quietly. None of them had been up Bitter Mist Mountain before, and all wanted to learn from the man with the gold-rimmed glasses. The man with the gold-rimmed glasses wasn't stingy; he shared a lot of general knowledge, focusing particularly on the characteristics of the Snake-Spotted Flower.

As he spoke, he suddenly stopped, his eyes fixed on the distant flags of the apothecaries. Below the apothecary flags, several men walked towards the depths of the thick fog. The man with the gold-rimmed glasses told the crowd, "The apothecary people are going up the mountain. It's time for us to go too."

Little Fatty excitedly started to move forward, but the man with the gold-rimmed glasses cautioned, "Don't follow too closely. Down here, they abide by rules to protect their apothecaries' reputation. But once on the mountain, they'll do anything. Picking flowers is hard work; gathering them yourself is certainly not as fast as robbing others."

Hearing this, Little Fatty gripped his axe tighter, and the few people around them also became tense. The man with the gold-rimmed glasses said, "If you trust me, let's form a group so we can look out for each other."

PS: Two updates today, seven thousand characters. Esteemed readers, please vote for Salad and leave comments for Salad.