Being an emperor is not something he can do, so he can only rely on his connections.

Shopkeeper Shen bent over and pushed open the carved wooden door. A strong aroma of herbs and an indescribable smell of paste hit him. "Sir, we're here."

Zhang Jingwei stood in the corridor on the twelfth floor and looked up at the end of the dark staircase. "This is the twelfth floor. What's upstairs used for?"

"That's the alchemy room where the master supports the immortal." Shopkeeper Shen lowered his voice, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Zhang Jingwei raised his eyebrows and asked, "Master? Is the old man still practicing Taoism?"

"That's right." Shopkeeper Shen looked pleased. "My master is from Huainan and once entered the Taoist sect in Jiqing."

Zhang Jingwei tapped his fingertips on the railing and said, "The old capital of the previous dynasty should now be called 'Jiangzhou'." His tone was calm, but it made Manager Shen's face change slightly.

Shopkeeper Shen chuckled twice, sweat oozing from his forehead. "Your Excellency is so well versed in geography. I'm sure the Grand Master must have been quite strict in his instruction."

"Fortunately, fortunately." Zhang Jingwei waved his hands, cursing inwardly. Who had made this unfortunate fellow travel to a world without cell phones? What else could he do besides reading to kill time? Fortunately, this awful world used simplified Chinese, otherwise, even a college student like him would have become illiterate.

Qian Ming suddenly tugged at his sleeve and said in a low voice, "Master, look there."

I saw that the space above the tenth floor suddenly became narrower, and there was only a corridor and one room on the twelfth floor.

The corridor was packed with people. Four or five men sat slumped at the corner of the stairs, their eyes hollow and lifeless, suspicious white foam hanging from the corners of their mouths. Their arms were covered in claw marks, and the cracks between their nails were covered in blood and flesh.

Even more eye-catching was a red sandalwood sedan chair placed at the stairwell. Its poles were carved with cranes and auspicious clouds, and its curtains were embroidered with the Bagua pattern in gold thread. Zhang Jingwei sneered. Now he finally understood how the old man had gotten up there.

"Shopkeeper Shen," Zhang Jingwei suddenly raised his voice. "Your master's practice couldn't possibly be a 'medicinal medicine sect,' right?" He deliberately stepped on the scattered dirt. "Are these 'immortal pills' made with cinnabar and mercury?"

Shopkeeper Shen's smile froze on his face, and the fingers in his sleeves twitched unconsciously twice.

Suddenly, an old and hoarse voice came from the room: "Xiao Jinzi, show the distinguished guest in."

"Yes!" Shopkeeper Shen immediately bowed in response, and his gesture of answering carried some of the etiquette of the previous dynasty.

Zhang Jingwei's heart trembled, and he was secretly alert: This etiquette of response is clearly an old system of the previous dynasty, which has been abolished by the new dynasty.

The door creaked open, and a pungent, burnt smell hit Zhang Jingwei's face, darkening his vision. The smell, like burnt herbs mixed with low-quality coffee beans, reached his head.

"What's that smell?" Zhang Jingwei frowned, took a step back, and subconsciously covered his mouth and nose.

Shopkeeper Shen stepped aside to make way for the passage. "Master Zhang, the master is waiting for you. Please move forward."

"Isn't Manager Shen coming with us?" Zhang Jingwei looked at the dark door suspiciously.

"The master only invited you." Shopkeeper Shen lowered his head and replied in a tone that left no room for doubt.

Zhang Jingwei looked at Qian Ming and asked, "Can't my followers go in with me?"

"No." Shopkeeper Shen answered firmly.

Qian Ming nervously grabbed Zhang Jingwei's sleeve and said worriedly, "Master..."

Zhang Jingwei patted his shoulder and said in a low voice, "It's okay. If something really happens, I will shout." Then he raised his voice and said, "Bring me the gift I prepared."

Qian Ming hesitated for a moment, then pulled a red sandalwood box from his bosom. It was barely the size of a palm, but it was intricately carved with winding branches and felt heavy in the hand. Zhang Jingwei took the box and gently pressed his fingertips on a hidden protrusion on the bottom to confirm the mechanism was intact.

"Please." Shopkeeper Shen made a gesture, and the candlelight cast a strange shadow on his face.

Zhang Jingwei took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Behind him, Qian Ming stared intently at the slowly closing carved wooden door, his right hand already on the sword at his waist.

Zhang Jingwei stepped into the inner room, and the smell that hit him was even stronger than before, which made him cover his nose involuntarily.

The room was octagonal, reflecting the eight trigrams. Hanging on the walls were eight ancient Taoist talismans, the ink faded. The ceiling was painted with a constellation map, and seven luminous pearls were inlaid in the positions of the Big Dipper, emitting a faint green light.

In the center stood a rosewood table, its surface scattered with a few dark brown coffee beans—their shape and color unmistakably coffee beans. Seated at the table was an elderly man with white hair and beard, draped in a dark Taoist robe. His face was haggard, but his eyes were piercing. Behind him stood two Taoist children, one on his left and one on his right, both wearing green robes and pale as paper. Beside them stood a "girl" in a pink silk dress, pounding herbs in a jade mortar.

There is a bronze medicine furnace by the window on the left. The fire is burning brightly, and a purple clay medicine pot is placed on it, bubbling with hot steam.

The old man raised his hand and gestured: "Sit down." His voice was hoarse, as if he had not spoken for a long time.

Zhang Jingwei looked around and found that there were no other seats besides the old man's armchair. He simply leaned against the eight-immortal table and tapped his fingers on the surface. "Master Shi, although you are inviting me to a banquet, why don't I see a single dish? I came here hungry."

The "girl" had fair skin and picturesque features, but when she spoke, she uttered a rough male voice: "Disrespectful!"

Zhang Jingwei looked at the "girl" in horror and asked, "Are you a man or a woman?"

The girl snorted coldly and continued to pound the medicine, paying no attention. The sound of the pestle hitting the jade mortar was particularly crisp in the silent room.

The old man's skinny fingers stroked the edge of the teacup: "Master Zhang is full of vigor and spirit. He probably didn't come here just to eat, did he?"

"If you don't want to cook, then this meal is on me." Zhang Jingwei suddenly raised his voice, "People outside, serve the food and wine!"

Shopkeeper Shen, who was standing outside the door, seemed to have been prepared. He smiled knowingly and turned to go downstairs. Not long after, he heard the sound of cups and plates clattering downstairs.

Zhang Jingwei casually picked up a flat bean from the table and twisted it gently between his fingers. "Old Master Shi, I have received the gift you asked Pang Lu to deliver last night." He looked directly at the old man, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I don't understand whether this move was Prime Minister Shi's idea, or yours, Old Master?"

The old man chuckled and then asked, "Is there any difference?"

"If that's what Prime Minister Shi wants," Zhang Jingwei put the flat bean back on the table with a crisp sound, "feel free to impeach me with a memorial." He suddenly leaned forward and lowered his voice, "But if it's what Old Master Shi wants, I'm happy to do business with you, but..."

"Bang!" The "girl" slammed the pestle into the jade mortar, her face full of anger: "You little brat! Even the prime minister today has to call my master uncle, what qualifications do you have to negotiate with my master?" The rough male voice and the charming makeup seemed particularly weird.

Zhang Jingwei exaggeratedly covered his chest and said, "No, buddy, don't say anything. It's a bit scary." He turned to the old man and said helplessly, "Old man, your boy... is quite unique."

"Mute girl, don't act rashly." The old man scolded lightly, and the "girl" immediately fell silent, but the anger in her eyes became even stronger.