"Tiger of Ice-Eyes," murmured Wang Yanfeng.
"Huh? Eighth Uncle, you know this tiger?" Wang Hao's eyes widened—he still had much to learn about the cultivation world.
"Yes. I saw it in our family's Bestiary. Before its supernatural power awakened, it looks like any ordinary white tiger. But once it does, it can fire chilling ice-attacks from its eyes—anyone caught in its gaze is instantly frozen! A fully mature Ice-Eye White Tiger is a Second-Level demon beast, and at its peak often reaches Second-Level Upper with good odds of advancing to Third-Level!"
Wang Hao's heart chilled. He had faced that tiger—if its power had awakened, he'd be dead.
Without hesitation, the two unleashed their magical artifacts against the tiger. It lay utterly spent, unable to move further, and they finished it with a flurry of blows.
As they approached to inspect the corpse, they discovered two cubs huddled beneath their mother's belly. No larger than an adult's forearm, their eyes still sealed shut—less than a month old.
Wang Hao and Wang Yanfeng fell silent for a moment. But having slain the mother, Wang Hao made no moral speeches:
"Eighth Uncle, I'll take these two cubs. You deal with the mother's remains."
Wang Yanfeng nodded. A spirit beast with Third-Level potential was priceless for breeding. And since the cubs, though newborn, already showed a spark of awareness, it wouldn't do to leave them orphaned by their mother's side.
Gently, Wang Hao lifted the cubs out of the den. They whimpered, famished—having neither fed nor seen their mother since her death at the hands of Wang Hao and Wang Yanfeng.
Too young for solid food, the cubs could only drink milk. With no livestock at his courtyard, Wang Hao had one recourse: he pulled a Golden-Threaded Silk Apricot from storage, squeezed out its juice, and diluted it heavily with water. Using leaves to form a makeshift funnel, he carefully fed the warm apricot milk to the cubs.
Their tiny noses twitched at the scent. Starving, they lapped eagerly, soon filling their bellies. With full tummies, they stretched, yawned, and slipped into slumber at Wang Hao's feet.
Wang Hao used his single Spirit-Beast Ring—already housing his Golden-Eyed Duck—to cradle the two cubs. "Ya Ya," he instructed the duck, "take gentle care of them." Then he returned to the den's entrance.
Meanwhile, Wang Yanfeng finished processing the mother's carcass and gathered nearby spirit herbs. Wang Hao joined him, harvesting seeds as they retraced their steps. Before long, both emerged from the cave, laden with bounty.
Their journey back to the market was uneventful. Only upon reaching the family shop did they dare breathe easy.
Wang Yanfeng took a sip of tea, still shaken:
"That was truly perilous. But the haul… well done. Hao'er, how shall we split it?"
Wang Hao considered and replied:
"Eighth Uncle, keep the Mother-Tiger and Demon-Bear portions—you have the better contacts to sell them. We'll split the spirit stones evenly. As for the two cubs, I'd like one; you decide what to do with the other."
His courtyard was already devoted to expansion; raising two spirit beasts would be too much. Yet he couldn't bear to leave both cubs behind—after all, even at First-Stage their Third-Level potential made them invaluable.
Wang Yanfeng nodded:
"I was thinking the same—I have no means to rear a spirit beast. I'll donate the other cub to the clan as a guardian for our territory."
Imagining the coming windfall—two to three thousand spirit stones—Wang Yanfeng wasted no time. He rose and declared:
"I'll contact our buyers at once!"
Accustomed to large sums, Wang Hao remained calm. After all, this would fund only one year of Jade Flesh & Ice Muscle practice—and he still doubted he'd reach its sixth level.
Over the next week, Wang Yanfeng rose early and returned late, at last selling all the materials at a fine price. The Mother-Tiger and half the Bear carcass fetched 4,000 spirit stones. They each took 2,000 stones, and the borage plus the tiger's remains would earn 1,000 clan-credit points.
Meanwhile, Wang Hao settled into the shop's routine. He had two assistants—tenth brother Wang Wenxin and eighth brother Wang Wenli—both young but with only modest aptitude.
Business ran steadily but unremarkably. Pills were essential, yet in Qingniu Town the Clan-Wang Pillery faced stiff competition from the Qingyuan Pavilion and the Four Seas Alliance, which always stocked Second-Order elixirs. Clan-Wang carried only a handful of those and then by custom order. Their First-Order pills were lower quality—only their low prices kept margins thin. Small independent shops and wandering alchemists added endless competition. In a bustling market like this, it was a miracle the Clan-Wang shop still thrived!
Recognizing this, Wang Hao resolved to boost the shop's profitability while honing his alchemy. He currently mastered only one First-Order pill (the Yellow-Dragon Pill) at a 30% success rate—hardly a respectable alchemist!
His grandfather's notes were good, but practice made perfect. He decided to plant more of his courtyard's harvests in-house, create pills from those herbs, and thus generate profit, clan credit, and alchemical skill in one virtuous cycle.
Determined, he approached Wang Yanfeng—who was preparing to return to the clan seat—and asked:
"Eighth Uncle, could you hire two more people for me?"
"What sort of people?"
"Preferably young, clever… and beautiful."
Wang Yanfeng's expression darkened:
"What are you planning?"
"Nothing nefarious—it's for business! Imagine how much better customers negotiate with a pretty cultivator at the counter. Sales would soar!"
Wang Yanfeng stroked his beard, nostalgic:
"True enough—I always found that maid Xiaohong of the Four Seas Alliance very pleasant to deal with!"
That old lecher… Wang Hao sighed. "Eighth Uncle always has ulterior motives. But if others do it, why not us?"
Wang Yanfeng nodded:
"But adding two staff increases costs—and the clan elders won't approve!"
Without budget, no team—how to reach the top?
"I'll pay their salaries myself. If they still balk, announce among clan youth that I'm offering 50 spirit stones per year for two cultivators—aptitude and level immaterial. The only requirement: they must be beautiful."
"You'd really do that?"
"Absolutely!"
"Well… you do have your father's backing." Wang Yanfeng quietly admitted. Though the elders were all Ninth-Level Refiners, they might be persuaded by such a personal expense and the chairman's endorsement.