He recalled countless late nights when Dour would crouch beside the stone mortar to help him grind medicinal herbs. The boy’s thin shoulders would sway in the moonlight, looking like a blade of wild grass growing in stubborn defiance.
For his part, in order to gain a foothold in the Black Market, he had been forced to adulterate his genuine prescriptions with things that could never see the light of day.
"The soil in Beidahuang is so rich you could squeeze oil out of it."
Chapter 724