Afternoon sunlight filtered through sparse leaves, dappling the window lattice of the side room beside the logistics warehouse.
Inside, Steward Wang sat leisurely sipping tea.
As the key figure for merchant caravan dealings, countless collateral branch members—even direct lineage disciples—had come fawning over him these past few days, all hoping for a favorable position on the caravan's purchase list.
Knock, knock, knock.
A soft, respectful tap at the door.
"Enter." Steward Wang didn't even lift his eyelids, his tone carrying that particular blend of laziness and condescension unique to mid-level officials.
The door swung open. Lin Mu walked in carrying a thick stack of Green Pouch Grass delivery manifests.
Gone was the shrewd, calculating merchant from the Shadow Exchange.
In its place: the deferential, simple-minded look of a typical errand boy.
"Steward Wang, are you busy?"
He shuffled forward with a slight bow, presenting the manifest with both hands. His voice dropped low, deliberately emphasizing the words "Young Master Feng."
"Young Master Feng asked me to deliver this. The Green Pouch Grass collected these past days has been sorted by quality and piled in the abandoned storage room on the west side. The key is with Young Master Feng."
"He specifically instructed me to show you the manifest first, so as not to delay tomorrow's delivery."
Steward Wang set down his teacup and scanned the quantities on the manifest. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.
Several hundred bundles of Green Pouch Grass—far beyond what a rootless collateral branch nobody like Lin Mu could possibly stockpile.
But upon hearing it was Lin Feng's doing, understanding dawned immediately. The casual indifference on his face receded, replaced by a knowing smile.
"Ah, so this is Young Master Lin Feng's business. I knew it—you'd only dare stir up small commotions in the academy. This kind of major operation? Only a direct lineage young master has that kind of boldness."
"Yes, yes, yes. I'm just running errands, making a bit of hard-earned coin."
Lin Mu smiled along, then smoothly produced two small money pouches from his robe, sliding one gently toward Steward Wang's hand.
"This is twenty Primeval Stones Young Master Feng asked me to deliver first—a deposit. He said you've worked hard coordinating with the caravan."
"Once the delivery's complete, he'll have me bring another forty, making sixty total—enough for your son's Green Mark Gu Egg."
Lin Mu deliberately lowered his voice further. "Young Master Feng specifically instructed me to keep this quiet. If the other young masters find out, they'll fight to cut in line, and that'll only delay our delivery."
A glint of shrewdness flashed in Steward Wang's eyes.
This makes perfect sense.
Direct lineage members always kept their dealings discreet. Having an errand boy deliver money was completely normal.
He nodded immediately. "Rest assured, this stays between us!"
The pouch of Primeval Stones had struck precisely at Steward Wang's weak point. He'd been worrying about how to afford a Green Mark Gu Egg for his son's Rank 1 breakthrough. Sixty Primeval Stones would cover the gap exactly.
He casually weighed the pouch, feeling its heft. The last trace of doubt in his eyes vanished completely.
Lin Feng's resources and style of doing business were far more credible than this penniless nobody Lin Mu.
"Young Master Lin Feng is quite generous." His wrist flicked, and the pouch vanished silently into his sleeve. His smile grew warmer.
"Tell Young Master Feng not to worry. Tomorrow morning, I'll personally wait at Warehouse One and arrange first-priority delivery for you. Fair prices guaranteed—no one cuts in line."
He paused, then added with seeming casualness: "One more thing—pass this along to Young Master Feng."
"The caravan's Stone Gambling pavilion starts setting up tonight. The Jia Clan brought quite a few old-pit materials from the Rotting Poison Swamp this time. Entry threshold is fifty Primeval Stones. Tell him to prepare early—the good pieces are always in the first few rows."
Lin Mu's heart stirred, but his face remained humble and anxious. He bowed repeatedly.
"Oh my, this is wonderful news! I'll remember every word and relay it exactly to Young Master Feng! Thank you for the tip, Steward Wang!"
With that, he backed out of the side room, bowing as he went.
The instant he crossed the threshold, his spine straightened. His peripheral vision swept across the dust-choked warehouse district.
A cold, thin smile curved his lips.
Steward Wang was now thoroughly convinced that Lin Feng was the mastermind behind this operation.
From this moment forward, whether the Green Pouch Grass rose or fell, profit or loss—all consequences, disputes, grudges, and jealous eyes would fall squarely on "Young Master Feng's" shoulders.
Lin Mu?
Just an insignificant errand boy. Clean hands. Clean exit.
The cicada sheds its shell. The deed is done, and the actor withdraws.
...
Back at the dormitory, the atmosphere had grown tense.
Lin Mu's bed had already been cleared out. Lin Feng sat in the main chair like a king on his throne, two arrogant lackeys standing behind him.
The moment Lin Mu entered, those narrow eyes squinted, radiating scrutiny and condescension.
"How did it go? No problems with Steward Wang?"
Lin Mu hurried forward, untying a ring of storage room keys from his waist and presenting them with both hands. His tone struck the perfect balance of deference and self-deprecation.
"Rest easy, Young Master Feng. Everything's handled!"
"The grass is sorted into three piles—top-grade stuff stacked separately. Steward Wang verified the manifest. He accepted the deposit and promised us first-priority delivery tomorrow morning!"
At the words "first-priority delivery," the scrutiny in Lin Feng's eyes melted into satisfaction. He caught the keys and tossed them casually, looking down at Lin Mu from above.
"Not bad. You know how to get things done." His eyes narrowed. "You didn't skim anything off the top, did you?"
"Young Master Feng jokes—I'd never dare." Lin Mu bowed slightly, his expression honest but not groveling.
"I'm just an errand boy who helped collect grass. No backing, no connections. How would I dare touch your things?"
"The inventory checks, the price negotiations with the caravan—those are major affairs. With my status, if I stuck my nose in, I'd only cause problems and delay your business."
"Better if you send trusted people to oversee the process. I'll help with the legwork, run errands. That's the safest approach."
The words were watertight.
He'd pledged loyalty, voluntarily surrendered control, and thoroughly distanced himself from any responsibility.
Lin Feng found it extremely pleasant to hear.
In his eyes, this was Lin Mu "knowing his place."
A collateral branch nobody with no backing—faced with a major transaction involving hundreds of bundles of Green Pouch Grass—naturally lacked both the courage and capability to control the situation.
This kind of tool, one with no ambition who only sought small gains, was the most useful kind.
He waved at his lackeys. "Go to the west storage room. Verify the quantities and grades against the manifest. If there's a single piece missing or a grade off, come back and we'll settle accounts with him!"
The lackeys departed. Only then did Lin Feng look back at Lin Mu.
"Fine. You've been sensible. Don't worry about the rest—I'll have my people take over. When the money comes in, you'll get your cut."
"Thank you, Young Master Feng! May your wealth flow endlessly!"
Lin Mu acted as if granted amnesty, bowing his head as he quickly retreated from the dormitory.
The moment he stepped into the corridor's shadows, the servile smile vanished from his face.
Only bottomless indifference remained.
The Green Pouch Grass game—the final piece had been placed.
How much that grass ultimately sold for, whether it profited or lost—none of it concerned him anymore.
What he truly held in his grasp was the heavy, absolutely secure gambling stake nestled against his chest.
...
Night fell.
Inside Black Blood Stockade's council hall, candles blazed bright.
Several Clan Elders clad in beast-hide cloaks sat around a stone table, their auras deep and measured. The atmosphere held no trace of drawn swords or tense standoffs—only shrewd commercial calculation.
This was the reality of the Gu Master world.
Clan friction always yielded to absolute profit. The Jia Clan and Black Blood Stockade were deeply bound partners, their interests intertwined.
At the head of the table sat Grand Patriarch Lin Cang.
His features were hard-cut, his skin bearing a metallic blue-grey tinge—the mark of years cultivating the peak Rank 3 Iron Bone Gu.
As master of the entire stockade, his every word carried the weight of the clan's survival.
"Everyone's reviewed the Jia Clan's supply manifest?"
His fingertip tapped the table surface, producing a crisp ring of metal on metal. His gaze fell on one line of text, his tone steady but resolute.
"Other items can wait. But those ten catties of Blood Jade Marrow—we must secure them."
He unconsciously touched an old wound on his right arm, his voice dropping.
"Blood Jade Marrow is the primary ingredient for refining Blood Scale Gu and strengthening bone structure. My Iron Bone Gu has been stuck at the peak for years. This material is exactly what I'm missing."
"Only by obtaining it can I attempt breaking through to Rank 4. Only then, at the next Five Stockades Grand Competition, can I suppress that old ghost from White Bone Stockade and seize control over the surrounding poison-herb resources."
"This is strategic material for the clan. We secure it at any cost."
Lin Cang paused, then turned to the Elder in charge of supplies.
"Empty our warehouses—Ironskin Boar Tusks, dried wolf pelts. Those can offset part of the price. Add three stalks of the century-old Poison Vine we stockpiled last year."
"If that's still not enough, throw in fifty Primeval Stone Mother Ores. Whatever it takes—get the Blood Jade Marrow!"
The supply Elder bowed. "I'll inventory everything immediately, ensuring smooth delivery tomorrow!"
"The Grand Patriarch speaks wisely!"
The one who spoke was Elder Kuangxu, his face covered in a wild beard.
He wore black iron soft armor, a faint aura of fierce power swirling around him—a peak Rank 2 cultivator whose natal Gu was the attack-and-defense integrated Steel Bristle Gu.
Usually hot-tempered, he now calculated carefully.
"Besides the Blood Jade Marrow, they've brought two hundred Green Mark Gu Eggs. Low-grade Rank 1 material, yes, but essential for any Rank 1 Gu Master's foundation."
"We've got plenty of promising seedlings in our stockade, and we can't cultivate these ourselves—we rely entirely on caravan supplies. Two hundred eggs are just enough for the academy and clan disciples. We need to lock this down fast, or the other stockades will snatch them up!"
"There's also the matter of profit-sharing."
The gaunt Elder in charge of external trade spoke, his right eye socket slightly protruding. A semi-transparent Insect Eye Gu rotated slowly within his pupil, replacing ordinary means of sight.
He stared at the inventory list, tone precise: "In previous years, the Jia Clan purchased our goods at only thirty percent profit margin, price suppression too severe."
"This year our poisonous herbs are the finest quality within a hundred miles. Without this batch, they can't fulfill their tribute to the Central Plains major sects. This time I'll fight for thirty-five percent. Minimum thirty-three."
The group discussed briefly, the core always circling "resource exchange" and "profit maximization"—righteous-demonic conflicts, clan feuds, all had to step aside before the massive resources the merchant caravan brought.
The Jia Clan needed Black Blood Stockade's specialties to fill their warehouses. Black Blood Stockade needed the Jia Clan's Gu insects and materials to strengthen itself. A win-win transaction from the start.
"Then it's settled." Lin Cang made the final decision: "Tomorrow when the caravan arrives, I'll handle negotiations personally. Exchange for Blood Jade Marrow first, then discuss Green Mark Gu Eggs. The profit split we'll grind out slowly."
"Also," he looked toward Elder Kuangxu, "the Stone Gambling venue they're bringing—have Punishment Hall people keep close watch. That kind of place attracts all sorts."
"Just don't let anyone die, but don't control it too tightly either. Heard they mixed in some good material this time. If anyone from the stockade can cut out primeval stone cores or rare Gu insects, that's the clan's fortune."
"Understood!" Elder Kuangxu grinned, revealing gleaming white teeth. "As long as they don't wreck the place, I'll pretend I saw nothing!"
The council chamber's decisions spread quickly.
The stockade bustled to life: students dug out unused Gu eggs and damaged Gu tools, laborers dried medicinal herbs and insect-repelling grass, outer stockade merchants rushed over overnight to claim spots.
Next morning, before the Jia Clan Caravan formally entered, a temporary flea market had spontaneously formed on the empty ground by the stockade gates.
Stalls spread along the street. Hawking and haggling voices intertwined: laborers squatted on the ground selling mosquito-repelling grass, students displayed Green Mark Gu Egg samples to flaunt their resources.
Outer stockade merchants peddled exotic ore fragments. A hand-written wooden sign stood at the market entrance, characters crooked but clear: "Barter only. Primeval Stones priority. No credit."
Sunlight gradually climbed higher. Horse hooves sounded from the distance. Amid flying dust, Black Blood Stockade's trading feast was about to begin.
Lin Mu blended into the flea market crowd, gripping the heavy pouch of Primeval Stones in his chest. His gaze had already turned toward the Stone Gambling tent hastily erected overnight in the distance.