Chapter Forty-Six: The Super Anesthetic

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Tao Zhendong.

Nickname: The Little Flying Bee.

He made his name early on, a thief with a notorious specialty.

Fifteen years ago, relying on his peerless lightness skill and a colorless, odorless nerve-numbing powder known as “Fragrant Fish Soft Sinew Dust,” he slipped into the boudoirs of countless maidens.

Yet, despite his penchant for such acts, he never forced himself upon any lady.

Each time, after sneaking in and rendering his target unconscious, he would tie her up, then wake her, earnestly persuading her to enjoy a night together.

If she refused, he would smear her face with pigment, write “Doesn’t Know Good from Bad” on her forehead, and leave with a flick of his sleeve.

So over the years, though his crimes piled up, few truly pursued him.

Even the government bounty on his head, at its peak, amounted to only seven hundred taels of silver.

This was solely because he once dared sneak into the home of a provincial governor and defaced the cherished daughter’s face, prompting the governor to raise the reward.

Such was the flower thief’s legend.

Yet, he was exposed while helping his son catch birds—his lightness skill and the nerve-numbing powder inadvertently revealed—just as Qi Xiu happened to pass by and notice.

That nerve agent, undetectable even to someone like Qi Xiu with second-stage alchemy abilities, immediately piqued his immense interest.

Though Tao Zhendong denied everything on the spot, he could not withstand Qi Xiu’s persistent coaxing and threats over several days—soft words, hard words, even the threat of reporting him to the authorities—until Tao Zhendong finally relented.

After all, he was no longer the elusive Little Flying Bee of old.

He had a gentle wife, a pair of adorable children.

If Qi Xiu really did go to the authorities out of spite, he would be the one to suffer.

…

“This is the recipe for Fragrant Fish Soft Sinew Dust.

Let’s be clear: if you use this for any illicit purpose and get caught, don’t you dare drag me into it.”

The next day, after enjoying the remarkable effects of the Blue Pill, Tao Zhendong, all smiles, handed over the secret formula to Qi Xiu.

Yet even then, he could not help but repeatedly warn him.

He had never wanted to give up the recipe in the first place, fearing Qi Xiu might follow in his footsteps.

If caught, the trail might lead back to him.

Watching Tao Zhendong’s hesitation, Qi Xiu snatched the recipe from his hands, giving him a sidelong glance.

“Give it here. Do you think everyone is like you?”

Holding the formula in hand, Qi Xiu felt a wave of relief.

The power of the Medicine Talisman—he could control its effect, manifesting it at any location within a hundred yards around him, and set the area it covered.

In other words, an area-of-effect buff.

This was what distinguished this talisman from the Guardian Talisman or Martial Talisman.

Unlike the other two, the Medicine Talisman’s magic was almost purely supportive.

Its focus was different, so its supernatural effect naturally varied as well.

Fragrant Fish Soft Sinew Dust was colorless, odorless, impossible to detect, and extremely potent—ordinary people would collapse instantly.

Even a master, caught off guard, would be instantly paralyzed.

That was why Tao Zhendong had never been caught all these years.

It wasn’t for lack of pursuers, but because all feared the powder’s fearsome power; no one dared touch him.

Once I get home and refine this super nerve agent—

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—I’ll use the Medicine Talisman to send it straight to those two patrolling hawks.

Once those two sentries are down, the city walls will be a breeze to cross, even with my eyes closed.

In exchange, Qi Xiu had given Tao Zhendong the Blue Pill’s recipe, and then left the clinic.

A few dozen steps later, glancing back at Tao Zhendong’s anxious, hurriedly closed doors, Qi Xiu mused to himself.

What a soft-hearted thief.

If I were Tao Zhendong, the first day someone came knocking, I’d paralyze them and silence them for good.

But if he’d dared drug me—

Before the drug took effect, I’d have struck him dead.

Yes, his choice was wise after all.

…

Inside the clinic.

Through the latticework of the door, watching Qi Xiu disappear into the distance, Tao Zhendong collapsed to the floor as if his bones had been removed.

At last, the god of pestilence was gone.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Tao Zhendong took out a small porcelain bottle from his robe.

Inside was his claim to fame, the super nerve agent, Fragrant Fish Soft Sinew Dust.

He’d intended to paralyze Qi Xiu when he came today, then force the Blue Pill recipe from him, and silence him afterward.

Yet every time he considered acting, a chill would crawl up his spine.

As if the moment he made a move, he’d die on the spot.

All these years as a flower thief, never caught—not just because of his powder that could nauseate without killing, but also because of this mysteriously accurate intuition.

After much hesitation, Tao Zhendong finally chose to trust his instincts and did not act.

And it was this very decision that allowed him to keep his life.

…

Half the escape plan was now complete.

Back home, Qi Xiu wasted no time and immediately began experimenting with the recipe Tao Zhendong had given him.

“Douhuang, Dreamgrass, Leaf Zhen, True Prunella…”

Eyes scanning the list of ingredients, Qi Xiu looked a little surprised.

Every item on the formula was a common medicinal herb.

According to Tao Zhendong, the reason he’d named the super nerve agent Fragrant Fish Soft Sinew Dust was that the ingredients were as common as those for stir-fried shredded pork with fish flavor.

“Hmm, I have most of these, just missing two auxiliary herbs and two adjuncts.

No matter; with second-stage alchemy, I can waive any five of the auxiliary, adjunct, or activating herbs.”

With all the main herbs at hand, Qi Xiu set to work.

The ingredients were commonplace; the real challenge lay in the method.

With only a recipe, an ordinary alchemist would need three to five months of trial and error to produce a usable product.

But Qi Xiu was far from ordinary.

Each attempt brought a rush of insights and experience to his mind.

After just three or five tries, his technique was already proficient.

By the twelfth attempt, he could produce a semi-finished product with most of the powder’s properties, though it still wasn’t perfectly colorless and odorless.

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After the nineteenth attempt, the result was eighty percent similar to the original, though the full potency and perfect stealth eluded him.

On the twenty-second attempt, down to his last two measures of ingredients, a small pinch of semi-transparent, faintly phosphorescent powder appeared quietly in the furnace.

With a long sigh of relief, blackened face splitting into a wide grin, Qi Xiu bared his teeth.

Success.

Turning to glance outside at the peculiar scenery, Qi Xiu silently calculated.

It had taken just over two hours.

Ah, my skills are still too rough.

Having finally concocted the legendary nerve agent, Qi Xiu washed the soot from his face, wrote out several Medicine Talismans, slipped them into his robe, and hurried out the door.

…

On a bustling street in the market, Qi Xiu stood at a corner, sleeves drawn close, half his body hidden in shadow.

He quietly fingered a Medicine Talisman, scanning the passersby—men, women, young and old.

Who should I test the talisman on?

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

Sudden commotion drew Qi Xiu’s attention; he turned to see three thugs, leering and spewing filth as they cornered a plainly dressed, blushing young girl.

Ah, perfect test subjects.

A faint curve appeared at the corner of Qi Xiu’s mouth. With two fingers, he flicked the talisman and ignited it with a burst of fire energy; it turned to ash instantly.

At that very moment, a wisp of colorless, odorless medicinal vapor appeared out of nowhere, drifting into one thug’s nose.

Bang!

Without warning, the thug struck by the talisman collapsed like a sack of mud.

“Old Six, what’s wrong?”

The other two, shocked by their companion’s sudden collapse, rushed toward him.

They barely took two steps before another thug’s eyes rolled back; he too crashed to the ground.

“This—this—what the devil?”

Staring slack-jawed at his fallen friends, the last thug turned to run, but a wave of numbness swept over him, dropping him to his knees, forehead to the ground, as if paying early New Year’s respects to the crowd.

A chorus of astonished murmurs rose from the onlookers, pointing at the thugs sprawled like dead dogs.

Within the alley, the culprit gave a faint smile, sleeves tucked in, vanishing with a breeze—leaving only one quiet phrase echoing behind:

“The deed is done, time to dust off my robes and hide my name and merit.”

…