Ding Fan followed Zhou Ruoran out of the hospital and went straight ho.
Although the Ding family had been almost thoroughly raided, there was still one villa in Dancheng that hadn't been sealed. It was a property not yet auctioned by the bank, so Ding Fan and Ruoran could still live there for now. This also ant that once the bank reclaid the house, Ding Fan and Ruoran would be holess.
The villa was located in the Huaqiang District in the east of Dancheng. The district, situated in the east of Dancheng, was considered one of the bustling areas of the town, and the Hua Dong District within housed coveted pri locations where Dancheng's wealthy and influential resided.
Now, the Ding family was a joke, a fallen dynasty. So naturally, as Ding Fan walked through the district, he was seen as a stray dog, receiving much scorn...
All the way, Ruoran did not speak to Ding Fan. The only reason they could leave the hospital was that Ruoran had paid with all her savings. She was about to start her PhD soon, and needed to save up her tuition fees during this period.
However, when Ding Fan asked about the dical expenses, Ruoran simply told him that they had been paid and he needn't worry. She didn't ntion that she had used her tuition fees to cover the dical expenses, and Ding Fan knew there must be more to the cost of the treatnt, but he did not press the matter, nodding his head without saying anything further.
...
When they arrived ho, most of the furniture and appliances had already been moved out, making the spacious two-story villa feel incredibly empty. It was truly a ho with nothing left.
Ding Fan's room was on the second floor on the right side, and perhaps out of concern that he might fall, Ruoran escorted him all the way to his room.
"I'll go boil so water; you can take a bath in a bit," Ruoran efficiently tidied up Ding Fan's room and then said.
"I'll do it myself." Ruoran had already done so much. How could Ding Fan trouble her with sothing like heating water for a bath?
Ruoran looked at Ding Fan sowhat unaccustod, as it was unusual for him to refuse being waited on, the poor service usually provoking a beating.
Ding Fan noticed Ruoran's puzzled gaze and gave a light smile. "I'm really alright now."
Having said that, Ding Fan moved his arms and legs, rolled up his sleeves, and walked out toward the bathroom.
Seeing that Ding Fan was indeed going to boil the water himself, Ruoran said no more. Perhaps adversity really could change a person. But either way, it was good since Ding Fan would have to make his own way from now on — he was no longer the young master of the Ding family; he was just Ding Fan.
Ruoran then stopped speaking and turned to go to the kitchen to make sothing to eat...
After taking a bath, Ding Fan's complexion had improved noticeably. At this ti, Ruoran brought up so cooked rice porridge, and Ding Fan ate so feeling considerably strengthened.
"I have to go to school during the day, so here's so money for you to keep. If you get hungry, you can buy sothing to eat," Ruoran said as she placed so change on the table.
Ding Fan did seem to be significantly better. Since Ruoran had classes during the day, she really couldn't take care of him.
Ding Fan nodded, and after receiving further instructions from Ruoran, she finally left.
After Ruoran left, Ding Fan sat quietly, pondering how he could earn so money. He was well aware of his current situation: disowned by his family, left with nothing...
Not only did he need money to sustain himself, but he also needed to find a way to repay his dical bills as soon as possible. Although Ruoran didn't ntion it, Ding Fan knew the cost of the dical care was not trivial, and he needed to reimburse it soon. Furthermore, his future cultivation would surely also require a considerable amount of money.
Ding Fan walked straight to the study. When he had passed by earlier, he had noticed there were quite a few books in the bookcase. If he wanted to make money, he needed to understand the world he was in now, and reading was undoubtedly the fastest way.
Ding Fan picked a few books to read: one on human geography, one on historical records, and a Compendium of Materia dica.
Ding Fan flipped through the books very quickly. If anyone else saw this, they would surely think he was showing off, as no one reads that fast. However, the contents of the books were already imprinted in his mind. To a forr Nascent Soul cultivator, speed reading was nothing extraordinary.
In less than half an hour, Ding Fan had read all three books. After reading them, he had a basic understanding of the dical practices on Earth. Although this was a technological civilization, there were so diseases they couldn't cure.
Conditions like cancer and tumors could definitely be cured using dicine Pills and supplented by True Qi, while on Earth, they were deed incurable.
After learning this, an idea sprang up in Ding Fan's mind—he perhaps could refine so pills to sell.
Although Ding Fan was currently only at the First Level of Qi Cultivation and lacked an Alchemy Furnace for alchemy; he also didn't have the fresh blood of Monster Beasts for Talisman Crafting. However, by using so existing dicinal herbs on Earth infused with a bit of Spiritual Energy, he could treat so diseases that were incurable on Earth.
Ding Fan was desperately in need of money now! Having made up his mind, Ding Fan set about his plan imdiately, taking the pocket money Zhou Ruoran had given him and heading to the street.
Ding Fan found a dicine Shop and picked up so herbs. Even though he only got a small amount, it already spent all the money he had on him. And he still hadn't gathered several essential herbs.
When he got back ho, Ding Fan locked himself in.
Ding Fan concentrated his True Qi and used his hands to crush these herbs. Once he ensured that the True Qi had fused into the herbs, he then mixed these Spiritual Materials with water to form the pills. These steps might sound simple, but they required a trendous amount of Spiritual Energy for support.
It was a relentless effort; locking himself in his room for an entire day and night, Ding Fan never stepped out of his room. The harshness of life and reality forced Ding Fan to push himself to the limit.
When the sky lightened once again, Ding Fan finally walked out of his room, his face pale and his steps unsteady. He had recently recovered from a serious illness, and the frantic pill refinent had nearly reached his breaking point.
"This body is really weak. I need to focus on my cultivation," he said to himself.
Ding Fan, holding three pills in his hand, showed a hint of a bitter smile. If it had been him in his Nascent Soul Stage, refining these ordinary dicine Pills would have been a matter of minutes...
The intense pill-making had left Ding Fan sowhat drained. By this ti, Zhou Ruoran had already left. He went to the kitchen, hoping to find sothing to eat. In the cupboard, he indeed found a few stead buns and so pickles that Zhou Ruoran had left for him.
Ding Fan realized that Zhou Ruoran didn't have much money either. The plastic bag wrapping the buns bore the logo of Dancheng Law School, clearly indicating that these were leftovers Zhou Ruoran had brought back from the school cafeteria.
Ding Fan didn't mind these details. All he hoped for now was to make so money from his dicine Pills. He ate the buns and pickles in big bites, only then feeling so strength return to his body.
After eating, Ding Fan didn't delay and went straight out of the house.
...
Prince Park in Dancheng.
Though the peak hours of morning exercise and office-commuting had passed, the forested pathway beside Lake of Inner Peace in Prince Park was still bustling.
Both sides of the shady path were lined with stalls, including those selling ointnts, Rune inscriptions, and even so fortune-telling posts. Signs reading "Divine Dancheng Predictions" and "Mystic Jianghu Patches" among various others hung in front of these stalls, attracting attention and cries of sale from passersby.
Ding Fan sat in a corner, wearing a sun hat and a mask for fear of being recognized. His hat was pulled low. Even those familiar with him wouldn't recognize him now.
In front of Ding Fan, an old newspaper displayed powerful brush-written characters.
dicine Pills, a cure for all diseases!
"Can these pills cure bloating?" Not long after Ding Fan had set up his stall, a fat woman approached and asked.
Ding Fan was montarily at a loss for words; his pills could cure all diseases—a minor bloating was nothing. "Yes."
"How much?" she asked while already reaching for her purse.
"Ten thousand," Ding Fan replied.
"What! How much?" the fat woman asked in astonishnt.
"Ten thousand yuan," Ding Fan said earnestly.
"Are you crazy!" she snapped her purse shut and, without a second glance at Ding Fan, turned and walked away.
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