Chapter 26 — The Tea House Trap and The Marketing Genius
The Ghost Enters the City
Meng City was bustling. The morning fog mixed with the steam from dumpling stalls, creating a gray veil over the crowded streets.
Long Tan walked through the heavy iron gates. He wore a wide-brimmed straw hat pulled low over his eyes.
He kept his head down, blending into the crowd of farmers and laborers like a drop of water in the ocean.
He moved silently, his footsteps making no sound on the cobblestones. He was a ghost carrying a 100-pound crate on his back.
But as he passed the first watchtower, the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
It was a prickling sensation.
Gut Instinct.
Someone was watching.
High above, on the wooden balcony of a tea house, Zhou Cang lowered his porcelain tea cup.
He grinned, the scar on his cheek twisting into a cruel shape.
"He is here," Zhou Cang whispered to the servant beside him.
"Go tell Young Master Zhou. The Soap Maker has arrived. Do not stop him yet. Let him sell his goods. Let him get fat with silver first."
The Yan Trading House
Long Tan walked straight to the back door of the Yan Trading House. He didn't look left or right.
He knocked three times—a secret rhythm.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The door opened. Yan Bo pulled him inside quickly and locked the heavy bolt behind him.
"Master Long! Finally!"
Yan Bo looked exhausted but excited. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.
"You are here! Do you know what happened?"
Long Tan placed the heavy crate on the table. THUD.
"I brought the goods," Long Tan said calmly.
"The Vital Soap? It was gone in two days!" Yan Bo paced around the room, waving his hands. "Women are fighting in the street for it. My shop is empty! They are yelling at my clerks demanding more!"
He grabbed Long Tan's shoulders.
"You must make more. Double the production! Can you bring a shipment every 3 days?"
Long Tan shook his head firmly.
"Impossible. The ingredients... the 'Vital Herbs'... they need time to grow. If I harvest them too early, the potency drops to zero. Do you want to sell trash, or do you want to sell magic?"
Yan Bo sighed, deflating like a punctured bladder. "But the customers are angry... they want it now."
The Marketing Genius
Long Tan sat down on a wooden stool. He tapped the table with a rhythmic finger.
"Manager Yan. Scarcity is not a problem. It is a weapon."
"What do you mean?"
"If Vital Soap is always on the shelf, people think it is common," Long Tan explained.
"But if it is gone? They want it more. They hunger for it."
He held up one finger.
"We create a Release Day."
"We tell the city: 'Vital Soap is only sold on Monday.' Only 200 bars. First come, first served."
Yan Bo's eyes widened. The merchant in him calculated instantly.
"They will line up before dawn..." Yan Bo whispered, a smile slowly forming. "They will fight to be first. The hype will last all week."
"Exactly," Long Tan smiled. "And when people line up, they will buy your other goods while they wait. Rice. Cloth. Oil. You win twice."
Yan Bo slapped the table. Bang!
"Genius! You are a hunter, but you think like a silk merchant! Done!"
The Bag of Fat
Yan Bo opened his iron safe.
He pulled out two heavy canvas bags.
Clink. Clink.
"Here is your share. 20 Silver Taels."
Long Tan took the money. He put the silver inside his shirt, close to his skin. He could feel the metal pressing against his chest.
"Now, the supplies," Long Tan said. "I need the base for the next batch."
Yan Bo nodded and signaled his workers.
They dragged out a large, greasy burlap sack. It was filled with high-quality rendered animal fat—the base ingredient for the soap.
It weighed at least 50 pounds.
Long Tan hoisted the heavy, greasy bag onto his shoulder.
The smell was strong—raw, musky fat. It was the smell of a butcher, not a rich man.
He now carried 20 Silver hidden in his shirt and 50 pounds of fat on his back.
He looked like a beast of burden.
"I am going," Long Tan said, pulling his hat down.
"Remember. Monday only."
The Interception
Long Tan stepped out of the back door.
He turned into the alleyway, ready to disappear back into the crowd.
But the alley was blocked.
A large figure stood in the shadows, leaning against the brick wall.
It was Zhou Cang.
He wore casual robes, but the heavy iron sword on his hip was not casual.
"Hunter Long," Zhou Cang smiled, showing yellow teeth.
"You are carrying a heavy load today. Silver in the front? Pig fat in the back? You smell like a slaughterhouse."
Long Tan stopped. His hand drifted toward the knife hidden in his sleeve.
His muscles coiled. 600 Jin of strength prepared to explode under the weight of the bag.
"Captain Zhou. I am just buying supplies."
"Don't lie," Zhou Cang stepped closer. "My Young Master wants to drink tea with you. He is waiting."
"I am busy. I have materials to transport."
Zhou Cang laughed. It was a dry, mocking sound. "It wasn't a request."
Two more guards stepped out from the shadows behind Long Tan, blocking the retreat. They held wooden clubs.
"Come. Bring your fat. Bring your silver. Or we carry you."
The Tea House of Sharks
Long Tan was escorted to the 'Golden Crane Tea House'.
He walked up the stairs, the heavy bag of fat still on his shoulder. He refused to put it down.
He entered the private VIP room looking like a dirty laborer, creating a stark contrast to the elegance inside.
The room smelled of expensive sandalwood incense.
Sitting at the low table was Zhou Ming, the Second Young Master of the Zhou Clan.
He was young, handsome, and looked soft. He held a porcelain cup with long, pale fingers.
But his eyes were dead. Like a snake looking at a mouse.
Long Tan entered. He stood straight, the greasy bag dripping slightly onto the expensive floor.
Zhou Ming frowned at the stain.
"A peasant usually kneels," Zhou Ming said softly, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the raw fat.
"I am a partner of the Yan Clan," Long Tan said, his voice steady. "And I am carrying my livelihood. Partners stand."
Zhou Ming laughed. He put the cup down. Clink.
"Bold. Filthy, but bold."
Long Tan scanned the room. [Threat Analysis]
Enemy 1: Zhou Cang (The Captain). Standing by the door.
Strength: 550 Jin.
Enemy 2: The Personal Bodyguard.
Standing directly behind Zhou Ming was a silent giant. He wore black armor and a full face mask. He hadn't moved a muscle.
Long Tan focused on him. His gut screamed danger.
Estimated Strength: 700 Jin+ (Peak Third Rank).
Long Tan swallowed dryly.
I can beat Zhou Cang. But that monster in black... he will snap my neck like a twig.
The Sandwich Reality
"Let's be simple," Zhou Ming said, opening a silk fan. Snap.
"The Vital Soap. It is making noise. The Yan Clan is making money. We don't like that."
He slid a piece of paper across the table.
"Write the recipe. Now."
Long Tan looked at the paper.
"And if I don't?"
"Then you don't leave the city," Zhou Ming smiled. "We know you have 20 Silver in your shirt. We know where your wife lives. We know you have a baby."
Long Tan's fists clenched. His fingernails dug into his palms until they bled. The heavy bag of fat on his shoulder felt heavier with every second.
He looked at the window. The Yan Trading House was visible across the street.
Should I run to Yan Bo?
His mind raced.
No.
If I run to Yan Bo now, begging for help, he will see I am weak. He will protect me from Zhou, but then he will demand the recipe as payment for saving my life.
The Wolf (Zhou) wants to rob me.
The Tiger (Yan) will eat me to 'save' me.
I am the meat in the sandwich.
If I ask for help, I lose everything.
The Bluff
Long Tan looked at the 700 Jin monster. Then he looked at Zhou Ming.
He couldn't fight here. He would die in this small room.
"I cannot write it," Long Tan said calmly. "I cannot read or write well. The recipe is in my head. And it relies on... specific timing with this fat."
He patted the greasy bag on his shoulder.
Zhou Ming stared at him. "Then tell me."
"It is complex. If I tell you now, you will ruin it," Long Tan lied smoothly. "I need to show you. I need to go home and prepare the samples with this fresh fat before it spoils."
Zhou Ming studied Long Tan's face. He saw the fear, but he also saw the greed of a peasant protecting his secret.
"Fine," Zhou Ming snapped his fan shut.
"You go home. But Zhou Cang will escort you."
"No," Long Tan said quickly. "If soldiers come to my house, my wife will panic and burn the recipe. I go alone."
Zhou Ming narrowed his eyes.
He whispered something to the Black Armored Guard. The guard nodded imperceptibly.
"Go," Zhou Ming waved his hand dismissively.
"You have until sunset tomorrow. Bring the recipe to the city gate. If you try to run... my Shadow Guard will find you."
The Exit
Long Tan walked out of the tea house.
His back was soaked in cold sweat.
He touched the 20 silver in his chest.
He adjusted the 50 pounds of fat on his shoulder.
He walked toward the city gate.
He didn't look back, but he knew.
The 700 Jin Monster wasn't following him yet.
But Zhou Cang was grinning as he watched from the balcony.
Long Tan walked out into the snow, carrying the raw materials of his trade and the burden of his life.
He was alone.
He couldn't go to the Yan family. He couldn't go to the police.
"It is just me," he whispered to the wind.
"Me against the Clan."
He tightened his grip on the bag.
He didn't know exactly what trap was waiting for him on the road home, but he knew one thing:
Peace was over.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE]
The Trap is set! 🕸️
Long Tan is trapped between the two powerful clans (The Sandwich Theory).
He carries the physical weight (Fat + Silver) and the mental weight of survival.
Strength Check:
Long Tan: 600 Jin 🔥
Zhou Cang: 550 Jin ⚔️
The Black Guard: 700 Jin 💀
Next Chapter: The Ambush.
Long Tan leaves the city... but he isn't going home.
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