Chapter 110 — The Man Under the Hood

CHAPTER 110

The Man Under the Hood

“Ask Master Shen to meet me,” Yan Meizhen said.

Shi Feng set her ingredient box on the furnace-room table and removed his hood.

“You're meeting him,” Shi Feng replied.

Yan Meizhen's hand stopped above the chair. Her Bone Refinement aura stirred as surprise broke through her usual calm.

She looked at the hood, the face cloth, and the familiar tools on the table. She already knew Shi Feng carried messages and medicines for Master Shen. She never suspected that the supposed intermediary was the alchemist himself.

“You?” Yan Meizhen asked.

Shi Feng nodded.

“All this time?” Yan Meizhen asked.

“Since your first order,” Shi Feng replied.

She sat down slowly. For a while, the only sound came from someone splitting charcoal outside.

Then Yan Meizhen laughed sharply.

“I offered you a delivery fee,” Yan Meizhen said.

“You wanted a delivery,” Shi Feng replied.

“And the refiner's fee too,” Yan Meizhen added.

“You wanted pills,” Shi Feng said.

She shook her head. The arrangement was irritating only because she hadn't seen it. The medicines arrived, the terms were honoured, and nobody forced her to pay for imaginary work.

Still, she wanted to complain.

“Why the hood?” Yan Meizhen asked.

“People argue less with a hood than a cripple,” Shi Feng replied.

Yan Meizhen looked at the sword at his waist. After the qualification, nobody could mistake his public strength again.

“And now?” Yan Meizhen asked.

“Now I'd rather work without covering my face,” Shi Feng said.

That was all the explanation he intended to give.

“The Eastern Palace steward who threatened our road permits had his plaque dredged out of the west-canal sluice three mornings ago, and his body was found behind the chained gate of the timber yard,” Yan Meizhen added quietly, opening her ingredient box and pushing it across the table. “When the ward constables questioned Gao Yuan and the sluice watchman, both testified that Zheng Jian had threatened Master Shen here, followed him into the yard with two armed retainers, and locked the chain from the inside. The ward office recorded it as an extortion ambush gone wrong and closed the file. His clerks vanished from the herb market the same day, and Duan Li already sent his runner ahead of me to rebook his Returning Breath Pill order.”

“Duan Li's slip arrived an hour ago,” Shi Feng said.

“Then Master Shi,” Yan Meizhen said, tapping the neat packets inside her box, “tell me what you can make from these.”

The argument outside began before they finished.

Zhu Shan stood in the courtyard with Cheng Huan beside him. Gao Yuan blocked the furnace-room door, looking unusually troubled.

“Master Shen's inside?” Zhu Shan demanded.

“Yes,” Gao Yuan said.

“Then why did Shi Feng go in?” Zhu Shan asked.

“He booked the room,” Gao Yuan replied.

“Which one?” Cheng Huan asked.

Gao Yuan opened his mouth, then shut it. He'd charged both names for different sessions and never looked beyond the hood when the spirit stones were correct.

The furnace-room door opened.

Shi Feng stood there without the face cloth. Yan Meizhen sat at the table behind him, checking her commission terms.

Zhu Shan stared.

Cheng Huan looked from Shi Feng to the hood hanging beside the door.

Gao Yuan's expression became painful.

“Master Shen?” Zhu Shan asked weakly.

“Shi Feng,” Shi Feng replied. “The medicine hasn't changed.”

“You were both?” Cheng Huan asked.

“No,” Shi Feng said. “I was one person.”

Yan Meizhen laughed behind him. Zhu Shan didn't find it funny yet.

He remembered his complaints about the alchemist's stubborn terms. He also remembered telling Shi Feng that his mysterious master should be more generous.

All those complaints reached the same ears.

Gao Yuan rubbed his forehead.

“Why didn't you say so?” Gao Yuan asked.

“You didn't ask,” Shi Feng replied.

“I introduced customers to you!” Gao Yuan protested.

“And collected the fee,” Shi Feng said.

The landlord had no answer to that.

Zhu Shan finally stepped into the room. He looked at the familiar pill boxes and checked one of the small written labels.

The handwriting was the same. The arrangement was the same. Even the plain cloth beneath the pills was familiar.

He suddenly felt foolish for caring about the face more than the medicine.

“You still make the common recovery pills?” Zhu Shan asked.

“Yes,” Shi Feng said.

“Same terms?” Zhu Shan asked.

“For the same order,” Shi Feng replied.

Zhu Shan immediately put his ingredients down.

“Then this conversation was unnecessary,” Zhu Shan declared.

Cheng Huan laughed so loudly that two tenants peered around the courtyard wall.

By noon, the tenants knew. By afternoon, the neighbouring shops knew. Gao Yuan made certain everyone heard that the rising alchemist rented his furnace room, although he wisely stopped short of painting Shi Feng's name on the gate.

Shi Feng ignored the gossip until Fang Jingyuan appeared. The unmarked Foundation Establishment alchemist stood in the doorway with his sleeves tucked behind him. His gaze moved over the furnace and the sealed medicine boxes before settling on Shi Feng.

“So you're the hooded one,” Fang Jingyuan said.

“I was,” Shi Feng replied.

Fang Jingyuan stepped inside. He remembered the medicine peddler who once accepted paid pill-testing work. Seeing the same man with a kingdom representative's sword annoyed him more than he expected.

“Foundation Establishment doesn't make an alchemy master,” Fang Jingyuan said.

“Then we agree,” Shi Feng replied.

The easy answer spoiled the lecture Fang Jingyuan prepared. He picked up a sealed pill bottle, then paused when Shi Feng held out a hand.

“That's a customer's,” Shi Feng said.

“I can inspect it,” Fang Jingyuan replied.

“Buy one of mine,” Shi Feng said.

Fang Jingyuan's expression darkened. Two waiting customers watched from outside, clearly interested in whether the older alchemist would pay.

He paid.

Shi Feng opened a separate bottle and handed over one pill. Fang Jingyuan examined the colour, scent, and smooth surface. He scratched a tiny piece from it and tested the medicinal force carefully.

His expression changed.

The refining was sound—cleanly bound, free of scorched sediment, and steadier than half the marked bottles sold along South Pill Street.

“The binding is clean and the fire held evenly,” Fang Jingyuan admitted aloud before catching himself in front of the watching doorway crowd. He cleared his throat stiffly. “Still only common medicine.”

“That's what you bought,” Shi Feng replied.

A laugh came from the doorway. Fang Jingyuan turned sharply, and the nearest customer became interested in his own shoes. Fang Jingyuan put the pill away and left without another lecture.

Shi Feng didn't chase him with a boast. He had no Sky Pavilion Mark, and he didn't need to pretend otherwise. Today's commissions paid for medicine within his actual ability.

That ability was growing.

Yan Meizhen returned to collect her written terms before sunset. She looked at the now-open doorway and shook her head again.

“The hood would've been worth something,” Yan Meizhen said.

“To whom?” Shi Feng asked.

“Gao Yuan,” Yan Meizhen replied. “He'd charge tenants to look at it.”

Shi Feng glanced outside. The landlord was already staring at the hook beside the door.

He took it down before leaving.

At home, Ling Qingzhu was standing beside his medicine board in the fading light. The gate was shut, and her veil lay folded on the table untouched. Two women outside the lane had been excitedly repeating the news from Gao Yuan's furnace yard when she walked home.

“Master Shen,” Ling Qingzhu said. Her voice was flat.

Shi Feng paused with his hand on the strap of his bag. “Not anymore,” Shi Feng said.

“Three days ago, in the arena waiting room, I asked you for one thing,” Ling Qingzhu said, looking straight at him. “I told you I didn't want to learn everything about you from a crowd. And you looked at me and said you would speak for yourself.”

Shi Feng's smile faded. “The furnace yard was business—” Shi Feng began.

“Yan Meizhen knew before noon. Zhu Shan knew. Half of South Pill Street knew before I walked past Granny Qin's brazier,” Ling Qingzhu said quietly. “You stood in that waiting room after hiding your cultivation for six months, promised you would speak for yourself, and walked back to a hooded room you didn't bother to mention.”

“Keeping the hood separate kept the Eastern Palace's errands away from this gate,” Shi Feng said.

“You always have a practical reason,” Ling Qingzhu said. Her fingers rested briefly on the edge of the table, then withdrew. “And every time I believe we've stopped performing, I find another curtain behind the one you just opened.”

She didn't shout, and she didn't reach for the supper bowls waiting by the stove.

“The rice is under the cover,” Ling Qingzhu said evenly, turning toward the inner room. “Eat when you like.”

The door closed behind her, followed by the quiet scrape of the folding screen. Out in the courtyard, Shi Feng stood alone beside the basin as the water cooled, knowing a joke about washing dishes wouldn't cross that threshold tonight.