Standing in that moonlit inner courtyard with the Little Hermit still hiding in shadow, Jiao Ziyu thought back at the words of that woman, Li Changmei. Unlike the others, she had been quite forthcoming about information, unverified or not. Because whereas the others would only refer to the full moon and the Good Doctor’s absence, when pressed, she had told him much more than that.

“The current situation is greatly beneficial to this town, so no one wants to speak of it. But the truth is, the truth is that the Good Doctor did not come to us willingly – The Red Devil brought him here. I first met him when he was trying to run away, but the Red Devil appeared and then⸺”

Saying this, she had shaken her head, her eyes brimming with remembrance as she’d gone on to say:

“I am but a simple woman. I have no greater understanding of these things, but... I’ve met the Good Doctor since, and I still haven’t dared asking him if he needs help. Besides, what can I do? What can anyone in this city do? Most seem not to want to do anything, with the number of people drawn here by the Good Doctor’s presence. But you, you, my good sir, are different from us, and if such a thing is at all in your power, Esteemed Cultivator, then please help him. Please help him escape. I cannot compensate you in any way, but still, I beseech you!”

Faced with such an passionate plea, Jiao Ziyu hadn’t really known how to react, and now that he stood in the presence of the person it concerned, he found the information all the more questionable. Because while there was rarely smoke without fire, it was also entirely possible that the woman was crazy or had fundamentally misunderstood something. She hadn’t lied though – not knowingly, at any rate.

Thus, Jiao Ziyu had committed her words to memory and found himself a room at an inn, lingering there until after nightfall before venturing back the courtyard house helpfully pointed out to him. He would’ve likely found it anyway though, given the array.

Now that he stood inside it though, Jiao Ziyu wasn’t sure what to think.

For one thing, this Red Devil was nowhere in sight, and the Little Hermit seemed decidedly uninterested in leaving – no, Jiao Ziyu had the feeling that he might even be actively opposed to it.

As such, he figured that it would be better not to try and push such an agenda, at least for now. Instead, he asked: “How much for six berries?”

Asking this, Jiao Ziyu ran some mental calculations, hoping that he would’ve brought enough. Because indeed, he had brought some money along, but upon setting out, he hadn’t exactly foreseen this sort of development and thus not been quite as restrained with his spending as he would’ve been otherwise.

Also, truthfully, Jiao Ziyu wanted more than a few berries. He wanted what he could get, honestly, because neither Mingyue nor the manuscripts had been very forthcoming in regards to how much would be needed for the concoction.

The manuscripts had been pretty elaborate on one thing though; the symptoms of Diānqié poisoning. Touching the leaves with bare hands was enough to develop pustules for the common folk, and for the very same, ingesting but a single leaf might very well prove fatal; pretty scary stuff, honestly.

Dilated pupils, blurred vision, sensitivity to light...

Dry mouth and throat, slurred speech, headaches, loss of balance...

Confusion, delirium, hallucinations, constipation, convulsions...

Flushing, rash, rapid heart rate...

Those were the major symptoms of Diānqié poisoning; decidedly unpleasant.

However, if ingesting a concoction made using this plant would be able to counteract the effects of the Wūtóu poison, then so be it.

The manuscript had also mentioned that the root of the Diānqié plant typically contained the most poison. But Jiao Ziyu was trying to help his friend, not unwittingly poison him to death.

Besides, asking the Good Doctor for permission to dig out the roots of such a flourishing specimen would’ve been him pushing his luck quite severely, because the fact that anyone had even managed to cultivate such a thing outside the Demon Realm was astounding. Then again⸺

“Six might be too few,” the Good Doctor said, suddenly standing almost beside him, and thereby well within the range of Jiao Ziyu’s light talisman.

Like anticipated, it was indeed a young man; not a child per se, but rather someone either in their late teens or their early twenties, with long black hair pulled up into a simple bun fastened by a purple ribbon. The rest of his attire went in a similar colour scheme of black and purple, and even his eyes seemed to have a slight gleam to them. And although Jiao Ziyu could detect a faint presence of demonic qi, the young man’s spiritual signature was largely that of a mid-level righteous cultivator – which was quite impressive, given that he was definitely quite young.

Granted, the physical appearances of cultivators could be rather deceptive. Some that looked young could be very old and some that looked old could be relatively young. This largely depended on when one had first begun walking upon the path of cultivation, and on the speed of one’s progress. Of course, it also depended on one’s experiences and the cultivation style in general.

Jiao Ziyu himself looked to be in his early thirties, while in reality, he was almost twice that age.

Mingyue meanwhile looked a bit younger and he was, but not by much. Unlike Jiao Ziyu he’d been a prodigy however, and had as such advanced fairly quickly to the point when visible aging slowed or stalled completely. Of course, Mingyue’s predecessor had taken the latter to rarely seen heights, constituting a major anomaly.

As for this young man though, Jiao Ziyu would be very surprised if he was even a day above twenty, and this was particularly strange. Because given the amount of medicinal knowledge and skill he was said to possess, it was strange for him to be this young.

Certainly, Mingyue might’ve been at a similar level at that age, but Mingyue had been taken in by his master at a very young age and received training and excellent instruction, and the thought that someone of a similar aptitude could’ve been born within the same century, and so close to the Green Jade Peaks at that, was practically unthinkable.

Normally, such a person would’ve been slated for a spot amongst the Windward Sect’s elite. And yet, instead, they were here, guarded by this ‘Red Devil’ individual.

The question was why.

If this ‘Red Devil’ had indeed brought him here, then it was likely for some purpose. It also wasn’t clear if the other had done so of his own accord, or if there was someone else pulling the strings, much like there was the question of whether this cultivator was here willingly or under duress.

Of course, if this ‘Red Devil’ individual was indeed a demon or on cahoots with the Demon Realm, then that left another angle to consider.

Because as was known, the forces of the Demon Realm and the righteous cultivation sects were fundamentally opposed to one another. Certainly, there were more moderate factions on both sides, and as long as both sides largely honoured the latest peace agreement, there was really no need for an outright war between them.

Besides, both sides had their own share of internal strife; the Demon Realm had clans at odds with one another and additional factions on top of that, and while the situation wasn’t necessarily as overt in the Jianghu, the cultivation world, it wasn’t necessarily any better.

It wasn’t all that well known – as it wasn’t all that discussed – but many of the more influential sects did have a nasty habit of throwing their weight around to get what they wanted or to get back at others for perceived or actual slights.

Then there were the rogue cultivators not officially tied to any sect. Most of them posed no particular threat, and it was the same when it came to smaller, less influential sects, some of which practiced what was regarded as demonic – or rather unorthodox – cultivation.

Furthermore, there was the rest of the population to consider, most of them commoners. These were only marginally involved in the Jianghu, yet far too often suffered the consequences whenever conflicts broke out in-between individual cultivators or sects, or in-between sects and the forces of the Demon Realm.

It was only very rarely that the opposite occurred, and most cultivators knew better than to involve themselves in the conflicts of the mundane – and those that did, be it for the sake of entertainment or for personal gain, were dealt with by the rest of the community. It wasn’t a perfect system by any means, but it still worked – well, most of the time.

The question was, how did the Little Hermit and the Red Devil fit into all of this?

“How many would be enough?” Jiao Ziyu asked. “And how much would they cost me?”

“Depends,” the young man said. “Why do you need them?”

Jiao Ziyu smiled. “Why do you think I need them?”

At this, the young man tilted his head slightly to one side, levelling him with a definite look.

“To kill a mortal man, one might need but a single leaf,” he finally said. “To kill a cultivator, one needs more than that. But to treat a cultivator suffering from Wūtóu poisoning? That depends. Not enough data.”

Hoh? Well, Jiao Ziyu had no idea what data meant, but he filed that curious word away for later. Instead, he asked: “What does it depend on?”

“The higher the cultivation, the more resistance one generally has to various sorts of poison,” the young man said. “But in the end, it’s a matter of slowing things down. Over time, the damage to meridians and inner organs becomes substantial, especially so if the poison is potent. With time, a cultivator’s body might also end up accommodating the poison, which might hamper the effects of the Diānqié. It might, it might not. Thus, it becomes practically impossible to determine a suitable dose beforehand. One must start with a reasonably safe dosage and administer the rest throughout a certain period of time. And in the case of an overdose, one might even have to administer a small amount of Wūtóu, so I’d advise you to take some of that as well.”

Hoh? “You seem to know an awful lot about poisons.”

“In sufficient doses, most medicines are poisonous,” the young man said, offering up a shrug that wasn’t quite a shrug. “It also depends on who or what consumes them. Cattle and rabbits can consume the Diānqié plant with no ill effects, but a single leaf can kill a mortal man, and foxes eat mushrooms capable of doing the same. In contrast, humans savour the taste of citrus and grapes and use things like chives to make their food more palatable, yet all of these can potentially kill the cats and dogs they keep around as pets.”

Again, Jiao Ziyu found himself unwittingly reminded of Mingyue. Frankly, it was uncanny. Then again, perhaps not. Perhaps this just how cultivators became after extensively studying the healing arts? Or after inhaling enough elixir fumes? In any case⸺ “That explains a thing or two about fox demons.”

That explained a thing or two about a lot of things, actually. Could it be that dog and cat demons possessed the same weaknesses as their less demonic counterparts?

The matter certainly warranted some investigation. Because although Jiao Ziyu himself wasn’t planning anything nefarious, it would certainly be good to know in the offhand case that they ever received a delegation from the Demon Realm.

Because if so – if such an unlikely scenario were to occur – then Jiao Ziyu himself would undoubtedly need to look over the menu beforehand and ensure that none of the food items might be misconstrued as a blatant assassination attempt.

Speaking of demons though, that ‘Red Devil’ had yet to show himself. How curious, yet undeniably convenient.

“Say,” Jiao Ziyu said. “How would you like to be compensated? I’ve got some gold but not much, some spirit stones but not a lot, and some jade⸺”

The other held up a hand to stop him, and just as he did, a strong gust of wind swept in, making the leaves rustle and their clothes flutter.

Sensing the sudden burst of demonic qi, Jiao Ziyu quickly extinguished his light talisman, leaving only the moon to illuminate them and their immediate surroundings.

“Give me the jade,” the young man said, looking up towards the rooftops. “Then take what you need and get out.”

Saying this, he tossed over two bags and a pair of gloves, which Jiao Ziyu deftly caught before throwing back a small pouch that was caught equally deftly in return.

Then the young man stepped away, and although Jiao Ziyu didn’t really want to, he had to tear his eyes away and obtain what he’d ultimately come for, before the Red Devil’s return.

Leaving without learning the other’s name was a bit of a disappointment though, sure. In the end though, Jiao Ziyu could always come back for that at a later date, right?