"Is anyone there?" Anzhi stepped forward and gently knocked on the gate.
The Daoist temple's doors were tightly shut, and there wasn't even a gatekeeper.
Anzhi felt puzzled. Could the temple be shut down? But it looked pretty fancy and well-kept.
She knocked a few more times. Still no answer. After thinking for a moment, she decided to be thick-skinned and keep knocking for a while longer. If no one answered, she'd figure out what to do next.
After all, food is the most important thing for people—there's no shame in bowing for a meal.
Getting money was what really mattered.
"Knock, knock your head!" A voice shouted, and finally the door opened a crack.
A middle-aged female Daoist peeked out, grumbling. When she saw Anzhi, her eyes widened.
"Bad luck! The temple is closed today. It's not the day for giving alms. Come back in three days," she snapped, already starting to close the door again.
Anzhi quickly reached out to stop the door from closing, giving a polite smile. She wasn't surprised by the woman's rude attitude—plus, she knew she had been a bit out of line for knocking so long.
She gave a rough but respectful bow. "Daoist, I'm not here to beg. I'm here to sell something."
The female Daoist was about to spit in annoyance. A beggar not begging? Then what?
But when she heard the second part, she laughed out loud.
"You're not selling something—you're selling me a laugh."
She rolled her eyes. "This is a temple, not a pawn shop. The pawn shop is on the next street."
It was amusing. All these years in the temple, she'd only seen nobles and royals come to donate money and pray.
This was the first time she saw a beggar come saying she wasn't asking for money—but instead wanted the temple to buy something.
Yan hid behind Anzhi, carefully watching the area. When he saw how rude the Daoist was, he worried that Anzhi wouldn't be able to sell anything.
He felt nervous.
He had seen the item Anzhi wanted to sell before coming. It looked a lot like ginseng—big and old.
But she said it wasn't ginseng, it was something else.
Which made sense. If it were ginseng that big, it probably would've grown a soul and run away.
Still…
Yan frowned, watching the situation unfold.
Was she not going to be able to sell it?
"Daoist, please look at this."
Anzhi didn't know that Yan behind her was already looking hopeless.
As the saying goes: seeing is believing. Anzhi took out the item, revealing thick roots and a sturdy body.
"Gasp! This is—"
The Daoist stepped back, forgetting to close the door.
This was…
"Daoist, this is shanglu."
The Daoist had planned to play dumb, but Anzhi named it directly. She coughed, trying to compose herself.
Still, seeing such a rare treasure, she couldn't hide her shock.
"This shape, this size, this complete human-like form… eight hundred years—no!"
"More than a thousand."
"Right!" The Daoist's eyes lit up, staring at the shanglu in Anzhi's hands. She cleared her throat, trying to be formal.
"Uh, miss…?" She was trying to think of how to address her.
"My surname is Hu. I'm a doctor," Anzhi said quickly.
"Oh, right. Doctor Hu." The Daoist looked doubtful but didn't argue. If Anzhi could name the herb, she must know a bit of medicine.
Though Anzhi looked poor, the Daoist spoke more politely now.
"How much are you asking for it?" she asked directly.
She already had plans for the shanglu. She would offer it to her superior. It would make her shine and win her favor.
Anzhi didn't answer right away. She just smiled slightly and gestured politely.
"Five hundred taels?" the Daoist guessed. She knew she was lowballing.
"Eight hundred?"
Anzhi held up one finger, shook her head, and said, "I found this by chance. It looks almost human—it's strange and rare. So I thought I should show it to a temple first, to see if it could be worthy of offering. But now…"
"It seems your heart, Daoist, isn't sincere enough."
She sighed, shaking her head and glancing around. She muttered, "Daoist, are there any others in the temple today?"
"Hey! Don't shout!" The Daoist panicked. If others came, she'd lose her chance. She wouldn't let someone else take the credit.
"One thousand taels!" the Daoist said through gritted teeth. "That's all I have. Don't push it."
Her voice trembled with frustration.
Anzhi whispered, "Of course not. You're so sincere—it's touching. I'm sure your wish will come true."
She looked calm, but inside, she was thrilled.
She hadn't expected such a nice surprise from this Daoist. She wasn't going to explain what that one finger meant earlier.
Being a Daoist must be lucrative. This woman wasn't even that high-ranking, yet she could offer one thousand taels just like that.
And this was just a small temple…
Imagine the riches in the capital near the emperor's court.
If Anzhi wasn't uninterested in tricking people, she might've considered becoming a Daoist herself.
Not one of those mysterious, chanting types—just someone who made herbal medicine. With her skills, she could probably find a spot in a temple.
But that would depend on luck. She might end up in a cruel temple that used her up and threw her out.
A kinder place would be better.
Still, in this world, temples were too close to imperial power.
Looking at history, this wasn't a path she wanted to take seriously.
The Daoist told them to stay in the corner and not move while she got the money. Her eyes warned them sharply: "Don't sell this to anyone else. Others might offer more, but think—can they really protect you?"
Anzhi replied sweetly, "Don't worry. This item is already yours. You were the first one I met after knocking, right? That's fate. I wouldn't dare cause trouble at a temple."
She thought to herself: I won't cause trouble—so you better not, either. Your founder is watching.
She knew what the Daoist really meant—she wanted to take the shanglu inside under the excuse of honoring it, then never return with the money.
But Anzhi wasn't playing along. She acted simple and didn't respond.
The Daoist saw she wasn't cooperating—and couldn't just take it by force.