The City of Alchemy had originally been the wealthiest city on the continent. Those who lived here carried at least a trace of pride; even if one were merely a laborer tightening screws in an alchemical workshop, they walked the streets with their heads held high and strides confident.
Whenever they encountered "outsiders" like Anbaixiu, their gazes would unconsciously brim with disdain, as though looking at country bumpkins who had come to take advantage of the City of Alchemy.
Today, however, seemed rather different. Pedestrians kept their heads slightly bowed, not a soul lingered by the roadside to chat, and everyone scurried along in a hurry, as if lacking a single moment of leisure.
Of the shops lining both sides of the street, which should have been bustling with life, more than half had their doors tightly shut, and quite a few bore notices looking for tenants.
"Could the City of Alchemy actually be going bankrupt?"
Anbaixiu reflected carefully. In recent years, prices for all sorts of magical materials had begun to spike dramatically, and export volumes had plummeted.
Still, things had seemed manageable before. How could the City of Alchemy's economic environment have deteriorated to such an extent after just two years away? No wonder they were hiking taxes so aggressively—they were probably right on the verge of total collapse.
In no mood to browse, Anbaixiu headed straight for the tower that was as ugly as a lump of green dung. Because its shape closely resembled the botched byproduct of brewing a healing potion, locals dubbed it the "Tower of Green Healing."
Ugly as its exterior was, the interior was remarkably tasteful.
Unable to alter the tower's appearance, the alchemists of Alchemia had done everything in their power to make the decor inside understated yet luxurious, brimming with elegance and artistic flair. In doing so, they had turned the seven grotesque towers into a distinctive hallmark of the City of Alchemy.
Yet a closer inspection revealed that most of the clerks and attendants inside were listless. Some shops were shuttered, and scraps of litter lingered in the corners of the floor—whereas in the past, they had practically polished the floors into mirrors.
Sensing more and more that something was terribly wrong with the City of Alchemy, Anbaixiu paid no further heed to his surroundings and made a beeline for the area selling magical seeds.
Anbaixiu had come today specifically to purchase seeds, intending to prepare crops for his soon-to-arrive subjects to cultivate. But farming on a lich's domain required rather peculiar seeds, and across the entire continent, only this dung-shaped tower held what he was looking for.
Humans required vast amounts of food to survive, and farming had always been the most vital productive activity. As such, the City of Alchemy had developed various enchanted seeds with different effects: oats that grew rapidly for quick harvest once planted, sugar beets sweeter than sugarcane, potatoes so drought-resistant they could thrive even in a desert, and so forth.
Though the vast majority could only be planted once—subsequent yields swiftly losing their enchantment—they were perfect for a penniless lord like Anbaixiu. He wanted to put people's minds at ease and help them settle into their new territory as quickly as possible; crops that were easy to grow and matured fast were the ideal choice.
Unfortunately, Anbaixiu truly knew nothing about agriculture, or else he would have simply summoned a magic raven to place an order. It was precisely because of his ignorance that he needed to visit in person and consult the staff on-site.
After wandering several rounds, Anbaixiu found that every single variety of enchanted seed was hyped up as peerless under heaven, as if they could yield a bountiful harvest even if planted in thin air.
Such was the trouble of being an outsider to the trade. Anbaixiu had no friends knowledgeable in agriculture either, so he could only pick out a few varieties with the mindset of giving them a try. But when he inquired about the price, the clerk, despite her proper smile, quoted a figure that stunned him.
"What? A hundred gold coins? That's highway robbery!"
Two sacks of fast-growing enchanted seeds actually cost a hundred gold coins. That amount of money could buy enough of the cheapest low-grade grain to feed several hundred people for a year. It was nearly five times the previous price.
The clerk instantly pulled back her smile and said coldly, "How is that expensive? It was already this price last year, and it hasn't gone up at all this year. Please don't make irresponsible remarks.
"Besides, our enchanted seeds aren't made from cheap materials. They're genuine, high-quality goods, and this price is already dirt cheap. If you can't afford it, maybe reflect on whether the problem lies with yourself."
Expressionless, Anbaixiu reached out a finger and flicked the magical bell on the counter.
A wisp of smoke drifted from the bell, coalescing into a tiny humanoid figure that spoke in a mechanical, formulaic tone: "Bell Sprite Number 996 at your service. May I ask—"
Before the sprite could finish, Anbaixiu cut in, "Complaint. Atrocious customer service."
Hearing this, the clerk frantically tried to explain herself. But Anbaixiu gave her no chance at all; he turned and walked away, just in time to hear the sprite declare, "Customer complaint logged. Reconciliation unobtained. Deducting thirty percent of this month's wages."
*Hiss, thirty percent docked!*
It seemed the City of Alchemy was truly starving for cash.
Anbaixiu left the tower with a heavy heart, growing increasingly worried. Prices in the City of Alchemy had soared to a terrifying degree; the bottle of Living Mercury Solution he had ordered earlier probably couldn't be bought for twenty thousand gold coins anymore.
Would he have to refund the deposit?
No, absolutely not.
The mere thought of refunding money made Anbaixiu sick to his stomach. He could never refund the deposit, nor could he ever take a loss.
Anbaixiu decided not to wait for delivery and went directly to pick it up in person.
Leaving the Tower of Green Healing, Anbaixiu made his way to another black tower that resembled a mutilated carcass. This appearance represented the most common failure in biological alchemy, where test subjects were blown into charred, indescribable heaps.
Yet precisely because it was such an iconic blunder, anyone could tell at a glance that biological alchemy was practiced here.
Passing through the front doors, he headed straight into the most opulent hall and found a clerk dozing off.
Anbaixiu got straight to the point: "I placed an order yesterday for a bottle of Living Mercury Solution. I'm here to pick it up."
The clerk checked the records and said, "Ah, found it. One bottle of Living Mercury Solution. The price is thirty thousand gold coins. Will that be cash or bank note?"
"How much?!" Anbaixiu asked in disbelief.
The clerk repeated, "Thirty thousand gold coins."
"Wasn't it only eighteen thousand gold coins before?"
"That was the price a year ago," the clerk replied expressionlessly. Suspecting the customer before her couldn't afford it, her attitude turned sour at once.
Anbaixiu had been hoping to turn a modest profit, but now he was looking at a ten-thousand-gold-coin deficit. How could he possibly stomach this?
"Can't you offer a discount?" Anbaixiu asked.
"Discounts are out of the question. If anything, the price will probably go up again before long."
Puzzled, Anbaixiu said, "If you keep raising prices and can't make a sale, wouldn't you lose even more?"
Hearing this, the clerk adopted a mysterious expression. "Well, it's not like there aren't discounted ones, but..."
Perking up immediately, Anbaixiu pressed, "How much after the discount?"
"Only five hundred gold coins."
Anbaixiu was dumbfounded. Was that even a discount? They were practically selling counterfeits!
Chapter 10