She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar

The Moonlit Market had no fixed opening time. Even before all the stalls were occupied by their owners, people had already started streaming in, eagerly browsing through the displayed goods.

Since they arrived early, Yan Luoyue and her companions secured a prime spot.

Thanks to Yan Luoyue's unique design of the medicine banner, their stall quickly became the brightest star in the market.

Under Yan Gan and Sang Ji's persistent and creative sales pitches, many customers subconsciously found themselves drawn toward their stall.

When the customers got closer and saw that the stall was run by a group of young kids, their curiosity only grew stronger.

One of them asked, "Hey, kids, what does this medicine do, and how much does it cost?"

Sang Ji proudly waved the medicine banner in front of the customer. "Here, it can be taken orally or applied externally. It cures all ailments!"

From the day he learned the phrase "cures all ailments," Sang Ji had never said it with such confidence.

After all, his younger sister had genuinely listed a hundred different curative effects.

As for the pricing...

Yan Gan answered directly with his sales pitch: "One box costs only twenty spirit beads, no markup. Three boxes get you a 20% discount, five boxes a 30% discount, and ten boxes—well, ten boxes will break your bones! Yes, break your bones!"

The exchange rate between spirit beads and spirit stones was roughly one hundred spirit beads for one low-grade spirit stone.

Yan Luoyue needed to earn at least five hundred low-grade spirit stones to buy a usable furnace and fire seed. If she only wanted the fire seed, it would still cost three hundred low-grade spirit stones.

The customer had never encountered such a sales tactic before and found the Turtle Clan boy's words amusing. He quickly followed up, "What do you mean by 'break your bones'?"

"'Break your bones' means..." Yan Gan hesitated, glancing down at Yan Luoyue and whispering, "Little sister, what does 'break your bones' mean?"

Yan Luoyue calmly turned around.

Dressed in layers, the little girl looked like a round, snowball-like figure. She plunged her upper body into a large bamboo basket, her legs kicking furiously on the edge of the basket.

The scene evoked warm smiles, reminding people of their own adorable little sisters or daughters.

For a moment, everyone's palms itched, wanting to pinch the soft, squishy white ball.

"'Break your bones' means—this!"

Yan Luoyue finally emerged from the bamboo basket, a colorful chicken feather stuck to her bangs. She struggled to lift a wild chicken that was tightly bound.

Yan Gan and Sang Ji exchanged glances: wasn't that the wild chicken they had caught after school today?

At the time, they had thought Yan Luoyue was being considerate: the Moonlit Market would run until midnight, and they would need some snacks.

But now, it seemed that wasn't the case?

Yan Luoyue shook the chicken feather off her bangs, placed the chicken on the ground, and tugged at Yan Gan's sleeve.

"Come on, big brother, break its bones."

"Oh—" The onlookers suddenly understood. So, "break your bones" meant breaking the chicken's bones.

Yan Gan flicked a streak of light from his fingertip, precisely snapping one of the chicken's legs.

The chicken flapped its tightly bound wings, squawking loudly. Before it could fully raise its voice, Yan Luoyue swiftly applied a layer of ointment to its leg.

A sweet, pastry-like aroma wafted through the air, making the onlookers sniff involuntarily.

Seizing the moment when everyone was captivated, Yan Luoyue energetically promoted their product:

"See, our stall operates on honesty and integrity. From our claims to the effects, everything is literal. Since we broke the bone in front of everyone, we'll also heal it in front of everyone—"

She untied the binding rope, lifted the chicken, and placed it on the ground, declaring passionately, "Take a few steps! If you're not sick, take a few steps!"

"Cluck cluck cluck!"

The chicken hopped around a couple of times, its beady black eyes filled with confusion.

Before it could extend its claws toward Yan Luoyue, Sang Ji swiftly grabbed it by the feet, tied it up again with the rope, and tossed it back into the bamboo basket.

At that moment, Sang Ji had an epiphany.

Having grasped the essence of salesmanship, Sang Ji seemed to channel a part of Yan Luoyue's soul.

He calmly and confidently called out, "Buy ten boxes, and we'll definitely break your bones. Our stall is here today. Not only will we treat the chicken on the spot, but if you ever break a bone, we'll treat you right here too."

Wow, impressive.

Yan Luoyue looked at Sang Ji with astonishment.

She never expected that Brother Ji would evolve so quickly—he had even mastered rhyming!

Yan Gan glanced at his sister, then turned to his friend.

A glimmer of realization flashed in Yan Gan's eyes.

He had an epiphany too.

Yan Gan shouted, "Other ointments smell unpleasant, but ours is so good you could eat it with your meal. Whether you're passing by, injured, bleeding, scratched, strained, or broken—whether you've been cut by a sword, stabbed by a spear, shot by an arrow, chopped by an axe, or struck by lightning—buy a box of our ointment, and it'll definitely work!"

"Whoa—"

Yan Luoyue looked at Yan Gan with newfound admiration.

She had never noticed before, but where did Yan Gan learn such a talent for rapid-fire sales pitches?

No wonder the saying goes, "You become who you associate with."

Yan Luoyue thoughtfully touched her lips: so, her own gift of gab must have been influenced by Yan Gan and Sang Ji.

Having witnessed the ointment's effectiveness and being swayed by Yan Luoyue and her companions' enthusiastic promotion, the onlookers eagerly opened their wallets and started buying.

The buying frenzy lasted for a while before the crowd thinned out, drawn to other stalls.

Even as more stalls filled the Moonlit Market, Yan Luoyue's little stall remained more popular than its neighbors.

Midway through their sales, a tall, burly man approached their stall.

He carefully examined the red medicine banner, picked up a box of ointment, and casually asked, "Little bro, is this medicine really that effective?"

By now, Yan Gan was well-practiced and answered smoothly, "We guarantee it on the honor of the Turtle Clan."

"What's this medicine called... oh!" The man suddenly understood. "I get it. Since you're from the Turtle Clan, this must be turtle jelly, right?"

"..."

Silence. Dead silence. Amid the noise, an abrupt and peculiar quiet descended.

Swish, swish, swish—not just Yan Luoyue and her companions, but after the man's remark, seven or eight pairs of eyes turned toward him, their gazes tinged with hostility.

The man took a nervous step back. "Did... did I say something wrong?"

"Hey," someone stepped closer to the man. "You're not a demon, are you? You're a human cultivator who snuck in."

The man's eyes widened. "I even wore a concealment talisman... how could you tell?"

"Not only can he tell, but I can too," another person sneered coldly. "Listen to the kind of question you're asking!"

You see, the main ingredient of turtle jelly is turtle plastron.

Asking the Turtle Clan if the medicine they sell is turtle jelly is almost like asking the Tiger Clan if the wine they sell is tiger bone wine, or asking the Ox Clan if the meat skewers they sell are roasted ox tendons.

To put it in human terms, it's akin to asking, "Is that firework that just exploded in the sky your esteemed mother?" That's how offensive it is.

It's the kind of remark that would get you beaten up on the spot, and no one would bat an eye.

Generally, fellow demons are very mindful of these things. It's usually humans who make such low-level mistakes.

Just as human markets don't ban demons from entering, the Moonlit Market often has a few humans sneaking in.

The stall owners and customers usually turn a blind eye to this.

But the condition is that humans shouldn't blatantly cause trouble.

The surrounding demons had already formed a loose circle around the man, with some cracking their knuckles and moving closer with unfriendly expressions.

At the stall, Sang Ji and Yan Gan had also taken off their outer robes, revealing the short tunics underneath, and were rolling up their sleeves, clearly ready for a fight.

"Wait, brothers, don't start yet," Yan Luoyue quickly intervened, holding the two back.

The man looked like a rough type, and from his clueless expression, it seemed he didn't know what turtle jelly was made of, nor was he intentionally trying to stir trouble.

Besides, getting into a fight near their stall could easily lead to the stall being overturned.

Before the situation escalated, Yan Luoyue called out first, "Uncle, do you want to settle this privately, or do you want a fight?"

The man didn't know what "settling privately" entailed, but he could already sense the ominous atmosphere closing in from all sides.

He quickly said, "Privately! I choose to settle it privately!"

"...Tch."

Hearing this, a few young demons who were itching for a fight pouted and reluctantly loosened their clenched fists.

The Moonlit Market had its own rules.

This man had just broken one of those rules, so all the demons present were within their rights to take a swing at him.

However, since he had agreed to settle privately with the stall owner, the grounds for a fight no longer existed.

"Alright, since my sister has spoken, we'll settle this privately," Yan Gan said with a sour expression, rapping his knuckles on the stall counter. "This medicine costs twenty spirit pearls per box. How many boxes do you plan to buy?"

The man did a quick mental calculation of the spirit stones in his pouch and tentatively asked, "I'll buy... fifty boxes?"

Sang Ji's face darkened. "Only fifty boxes?"

"..." The man swallowed hard. "Then, a hundred boxes?"

Yan Gan snorted. "Just a hundred boxes?"

"Two hundred boxes, okay?!" the man shouted with his eyes closed, feeling as though his heart was bleeding. "I'll buy two hundred boxes!"

He had come to the Moonlit Market intending to find a suitable magical tool to take back.

But because he didn't know the rules, he had only visited three or four stalls and hadn't even had the chance to buy anything before offending someone.

The savings he had painstakingly accumulated were now destined to be spent in one go today.

Yan Gan whispered to Sang Ji, "How many boxes do we have left?"

Sang Ji whispered back, "Two hundred and eighteen!"

Yan Gan nodded, his tone cool. "You'll take all two hundred and eighteen boxes, no discount."

The man nodded hastily. "Fine, fine, what's a dozen more boxes at this point?"

With a heavy heart, he emptied his storage pouch completely, wiped his face, and trudged out of the Moonlit Market with a grim expression.

"Whew—finally sold out."

Yan Gan patted the dust off his clothes and scooped Yan Luoyue into his arms. "Let's go, little sister. If we get back any later, Sister Yu will be mad."

Before heading home, the three of them found a secluded spot to tally up their earnings for the day.

After counting, Yan Gan excitedly raised his head:

"We made five hundred boxes of medicine, and we sold them all today. Deducting the one box we used for demonstration, we made a total of ninety-one low-grade spirit stones and thirty-four spirit pearls."

"Don't forget the cost—Sang Ji provided the initial funds," Yan Luoyue quickly added.

"Then deduct six spirit stones for the cost—just from this one night at the stall, we made eighty-five low-grade spirit stones!"

The three of them exchanged glances, their eyes shining with excitement.

Yan Gan had never seen so many spirit stones before.

Sang Ji, on the other hand, had seen his share of wealth, but this was the first time he had earned so many spirit stones through his own efforts.

Yan Gan was clearly over the moon, and his way of expressing it was to happily squish Yan Luoyue's cheeks.

"Little sister, if we keep this up, you'll be able to buy the fire seed you've been eyeing in just three more trips."

Yan Luoyue quickly reminded him, "We split the profits three-three-four. Only forty percent of the earnings are mine."

"That's nothing," Yan Gan waved it off.

Though he had never seen so many spirit stones before,

that didn't stop him from using his share to help his sister achieve her dream!

"Take my share first to buy the fire seed. You can pay me back later when you earn more."

Glancing at the storage pouch filled with spirit stones, Yan Gan couldn't resist lifting Yan Luoyue high into the air. "My little sister is so amazing. With the fire seed, she'll only become even more incredible, right?"

"She's my little sister too," Sang Ji corrected Yan Gan for what felt like the hundredth time. "Little sister, you can use my share to buy the fire seed as well. Your brother Sang Ji isn't short on money."

A fire seed worth a few hundred low-grade spirit stones was barely passable for a master craftsman like Yan Luoyue.

What made such a humble fire seed precious wasn't its price, but what Yan Luoyue gained in this moment.

Yan Luoyue's eyes sparkled as she looked at Yan Gan's excited smile on her left and Sang Ji's chest-thumping gesture on her right. Her fair, rosy cheeks broke into a bright, joyful smile.

"Alright, thank you, brothers!"

Now, to tell two stories at once.

While Yan Luoyue and her brothers were laughing and counting their earnings, Wu Pingyuan, the man who had bought over two hundred boxes of medicine, sat gloomily in front of the great waterfall within his sect.

The Canglang Sect, where he hailed from, wasn't large, but it was well-known in the area.

This wasn't just because his fellow sect members were honest and fierce fighters, but also because every cultivator in the Canglang Sect was a body cultivator.

As body cultivators, their primary focus was on refining their physical bodies.

Whether it was tempering their muscles and bones day and night under the waterfall, venturing into the mountains to spar with demon bears, or hammering iron fifty thousand times under the scorching sun with nothing but a rag around their waists—all of these were part of a body cultivator's daily routine.

Influenced by their cultivation methods, body cultivators were generally warm and straightforward, and the bonds between sect members were as close as family.

At the moment, seeing Wu Pingyuan sitting alone by the waterfall with a sullen expression, three or five fellow disciples swayed their wine gourds and went over to ask what was going on.

Wu Pingyuan's heart was heavy, and he poured out his troubles.

He didn’t blame the stall owner; he only regretted not inquiring about the taboos of the demon race before going to the Moonlit Market and being careless with his words.

"When they surrounded me, the stall owner even spoke up to help me out. Their ointment wasn’t expensive either—just twenty spirit pearls per jar."

"But I... sigh, I’m usually too loose with my money. I’ve been saving up fifty low-grade spirit stones for over half a year, hoping to exchange them for a decent weapon. If I miss this chance, who knows when I’ll save up another fifty spirit stones."

"Twenty spirit pearls? That’s really not expensive," a junior brother nodded thoughtfully. "What’s the name of the ointment, and what does it do?"

Wu Pingyuan froze for a moment, then slapped his forehead hard. "I forgot to ask. I only remember it can be taken internally or applied externally... ah, it must be for injuries, I guess."

Hearing this, the usually silent senior brother, who had been sitting nearby, immediately took off his shirt, revealing a horrifying claw mark over two inches wide on his back, where the flesh had turned black and hardened.

It was from a Windstorm Bear’s claw swipe during his mountain training session half a month ago.

Body cultivators, who focus on refining their physical bodies, often engage in extreme training methods.

Injuries, broken bones, and even cracked skulls are commonplace in their cultivation journey.

The senior brother said, "Let me try it."

Under the sunlight, the ointment gleamed with a translucent black jade-like hue, exuding a sweet, honey-like fragrance that made the three hungry disciples’ stomachs growl.

The junior brother applying the ointment couldn’t help but ask, "Senior brother, are you sure you didn’t mishear? Maybe they were selling cakes, and you thought they said ointment?"

Wu Pingyuan, smelling the aroma, also felt a bit unsure. "N-no, I remember there was a medicine banner at the stall."

As they spoke, the cool ointment was evenly spread over the senior brother’s back. The moment it was applied, the usually taciturn senior brother let out a surprised "Huh?"

"How is it, senior brother?"

"Is it not working? I told you it looked like cake."

The senior brother blinked, still in disbelief. "No, it works really well. I think... the pain is gone."

The bear’s claws were venomous, and the wound had been festering and refusing to heal.

Over the past few days, the flesh on his back had repeatedly healed and broken down again. He had tried countless external healing medicines, but this was the first time he encountered such an effective elixir.

It’s worth noting that alchemists prefer refining internal-use pills, which fetch higher prices and carry more prestige.

A single Recovery Pill, capable of healing both internal and external injuries, costs a full twenty low-grade spirit stones.

Meanwhile, cheap external ointments worth a dozen or so spirit pearls are something most skilled alchemists avoid making.

They consider such medicines labor-intensive and unprofitable.

This has led to a stagnation in the variety of external healing ointments, with few new products appearing over the years.

Body cultivators across the land have long suffered from the lack of effective external medicines.

Hearing this, the junior brother wiped off a bit of the ointment in disbelief. The next second, seeing the condition of the wound beneath, he exclaimed in shock.

"Senior brother, it’s true! The flesh on your back is starting to close up!"

"..."

The two brothers exchanged a glance, then simultaneously grabbed one of Wu Pingyuan’s arms each.

"You said one jar costs twenty spirit pearls, right? I’ll give you thirty for it!"

"Sell it to me instead, junior brother! I’ll take ten jars—no, twenty!"

"Weren’t you worried about how to deal with all this ointment? Haha, senior brother, with such a miraculous medicine, the entire sect will surely want to buy it!"

Wu Pingyuan gulped, thinking of the over two hundred jars of ointment stored in his pouch. The sudden turn of events felt like a dream.

Sure enough, news of the miraculous medicine spread, and fellow disciples flocked to Wu Pingyuan to buy it.

In less than a morning, all two hundred and eighteen jars of ointment, except for the eighteen Wu Pingyuan kept for himself, were sold out.

Those who failed to get any looked deeply regretful.

They grabbed Wu Pingyuan, repeatedly questioning him about the medicine’s name and the stall owner’s appearance, hoping to buy more at the next Moonlit Market.

Wu Pingyuan had no choice but to answer truthfully.

"I don’t know the name of the medicine; I forgot to ask, and it wasn’t labeled at the stall."

"Yes, the stall owner is from the Turtle Clan."

"There were three stall owners—two young ones and a pretty little girl, very noticeable, only as tall as my calf. She must be a young Turtle Clan member."

"It definitely works. It’s as if it was tailor-made for us."

After finally escaping the crowd of fellow disciples, Wu Pingyuan let out a long sigh of relief, thinking the matter was over.

But in the afternoon, he was summoned by the elder.

Half an hour later, Wu Pingyuan left the elder’s cave in a daze.

His mind was filled with the elder’s instructions—

"At the next Moonlit Market, find that stall owner and ask how much of this ointment they have left."

"The Canglang Sect is willing to establish a long-term supply partnership with the master alchemist behind this medicine. If the ointment was just a one-time find, we’ll buy up whatever’s left."

Returning to the disciples’ quarters, Wu Pingyuan couldn’t help but occasionally touch the pouch at his waist.

He still couldn’t believe that the new magical weapon he had been longing for was just awarded to him by the elder.

Wu Pingyuan floated on cloud nine, thinking: It must be fate that brought me to that stall owner—no, that master alchemist.

Think about it, the alchemist is from the Turtle Clan, and we body cultivators, with our tough physiques, are often mockingly called "turtle shells" by our opponents.

This is destiny at work!

Suddenly, the hushed discussions of a few junior brothers reached Wu Pingyuan’s ears.

Wu Pingyuan strained to listen, and the corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably.

His fellow disciples were discussing how to find the stall owner at the Moonlit Market in five days and buy the medicine from them.

This was natural and not worth criticizing.

But could someone explain to him what his brilliant fellow disciples were thinking?

Though they didn’t know the medicine’s name, they combined the clues Wu Pingyuan had given—"young," "Turtle Clan," "ointment," "tailor-made for body cultivators"—and then...

Then, they ingeniously bestowed this miraculous medicine with a name: Little Turtle Paste.

Wu Pingyuan: "..."

Admittedly, given that body cultivators are often called "turtle spirits" for their near-indestructible physiques, the name had a certain poetic symmetry.

But no matter how poetic, it was useless!

Wu Pingyuan was certain that if the elder hadn’t assigned him to represent the sect in bulk purchasing, these clueless disciples wouldn’t just fail to buy the miraculous medicine.

—They’d be lucky not to get beaten to death on the spot at the Moonlit Market!!!