Dimensional Storekeeper - Chapter 168

Chapter 168: Disciple? Bro, Y’all Are Grown-Ass Men
Those elders could have bled, wept, and knelt in front of Ji Yunzhi, but it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

He had no interest in disciples. Especially not ones with wrinkles and gray hair.

It wasn’t pride.

Okay, maybe it was.

But more than that, he didn’t want the hassle. Babysitting a group of old men pretending to be young alchemists was not on his to-do list.

Meanwhile, across the table, the elders had silently started using mental transmission to form a plan.

‘If we can’t recruit him, we must at least secure the trade.’

‘Right. Seal the deal. Tie it down with spiritual contracts. Chain it with karma if we must.’

‘Make sure he has no reason to go to another sect.’

Elder Tang Sheng’s face didn’t change, but in his mind, he sighed.

Of course they were thinking that.

Every sect did the same when a genius popped out of nowhere. Especially one who casually tossed them a miracle and called it ‘a fair trade.’

The discussion carried on, with the elders of the Drifting Sword Sect shifting their tone entirely.

No more cautious evaluation.

No more stiff backs and proud words.

Now, it was all soft voices, lowered eyes, and generous offers.

One elder leaned forward and asked what Ji Yunzhi truly wanted from the exchange.

Another suggested they could offer more – twenty crystals per bottle?

Thirty?

“Is ten really all he wants?” someone muttered through clenched teeth.

But Ji Yunzhi didn’t flinch. Didn’t raise an eyebrow. Didn’t counter.

He just sat there. Completely unfazed by the rising numbers being thrown around the room.

In the end, it was Sect Master Jiang Xianwei who finalized the deal.

Ten crystals per bottle.

Ingredients provided by the sect.

Done.

No amount of persuasion or flattery moved Ji Yunzhi from that number.

Not because he lacked business sense.

But because he didn’t care about crystal numbers the way they did.

The only thing Sect Master Jiang Xianwei added was a clause – if Ji Yunzhi needed other ingredients beyond the list, the sect would sell them to him at a discount.

He accepted that.

Not because he felt indebted.

Not because it was a favor.

But because it was efficient.

He didn’t owe them anything. He wasn’t tied to them. He could walk away anytime.

Freedom, ingredients, and peace to keep experimenting?

Now that was a trade worth agreeing to.

Let the old men fuss over the numbers.

He had pills to refine.

The trade was sealed by nightfall. Blood dried on the contract, and the seal of the Drifting Sword Sect sat proudly on the bottom.

The agreement would last for four weeks. Not four months. Not a year. Just a single moon’s time.

That was Ji Yunzhi’s condition.

Four weeks was long enough to test if they’d hold up their end. If not, he could walk away without strings.

He had no interest in binding himself to anyone longer than necessary, especially not to a sect full of sword-swinging old men and overly polite disciples who still stared at him like he might explode.

The pills would be delivered at the end of each week. Starting tomorrow, the sect would send over the ingredients.

Not second-rate scraps or withered weeds pretending to be herbs, but clean, fresh, high-grade materials that wouldn’t embarrass him in front of a cauldron.

He wrote that part in bold, underlined twice, and added a note in the margin:

“If the root smells like feet, I’m burning the whole batch.”

Sect Master Jiang Xianwei coughed politely and promised the best stocks they had.

There was another clause, one both sides agreed on faster than expected – confidentiality.

The trade stayed between them. No word to other sects, alchemists, or nosy cultivators.

Ji Yunzhi didn’t need attention. He already got stares whenever he stepped outside.

He wasn’t interested in people knocking on his door asking for miracle pills or trying to force him into sect robes that didn’t match his shoes.

As for the Drifting Sword Sect?

Well, they’d sell their outer robes before sharing him with another sect. If they could bury the contract under a mountain, they would.

Ji Yunzhi was their new prized asset. Their once-in-a-century opportunity. Their shiny treasure they didn’t want anyone else to see.

It wasn’t personal.

Just human nature.

Who wouldn’t hoard a golden goose after tasting its first egg?

The new day arrived with a lazy breeze and the scent of possibility.

Hao leaned behind the counter, checking the progress on his system tasks.

Main Task 2 … almost complete.

At this pace, tomorrow or the day after, he’d finally wrap it up.

And the reward?

Onigiri.

Onigiri!

That wasn’t just a reward. That was a blessing. A sacred, rice-filled miracle sent from the heavens.

Now that was a real meal!

Forget the chips. Forget the noodles. Even forget the ice cream.

He needed that rice ball in his life – ASAP.

The soft white grains, still warm, with just the right stickiness to hold together.

Hao could already taste it.

His stomach growled in agreement.

Rice was home.

The door creaked open as the Dimensional Convenience Store officially began its day.

Hao stretched, expecting the usual start, maybe the two from the Sovereign City.

What he didn’t expect was the tiny footstep sound of a returning menace.

Ji Yunzhi.

Didn’t this bald genius crawl into his cave after finishing the Improved Cola-Inspired Pill?

Hao had assumed he wouldn’t show his shiny head again until next week.

Or next next week.

But no.

He was back. Again.

This time, he stood by the glass door fridges, arms crossed, staring silently at the cans of Wing Blast.

Was he meditating?

Or trying to intimidate the bull logo into revealing its secrets?

‘Don’t tell me… is he planning to make another pill?’

‘Based on Wing Blast?’

This bald kid was nuts.

Brilliant, sure. But still nuts.

Xiao Lianfeng and Lin Yijun arrived shortly after. Xiao Lianfeng handed Ji Yunzhi a storage ring – the one packed with all the Cola Pill ingredients.

Drifting Sword Sect had assigned them to the delivery job.