That casual rhetorical question sounded particularly jarring in the noisy corner of the marketplace.
The brutish Medicine Hall lackey paused mid-motion and turned around impatiently.
He was used to running roughshod over this outer marketplace. Even upon seeing the blue-green steward's robe Lin Mu wore, the viciousness in his eyes merely softened somewhat—there was no real reverence.
"External Affairs Hall?"
The brute looked Lin Mu up and down and curled his lip, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, a fresh face. This lord here, our Medicine Hall is working for the clan's material reserves."
"Your External Affairs Hall... doesn't it just hand out tasks and collect pensions? What's this? Reaching so far now that you want to meddle in this little matter?"
The surrounding vendors drew sharp breaths and lowered their heads, not daring to make a sound.
The Medicine Hall was indeed powerful. Especially with the recent increase in wounded, its status had risen accordingly, and even its lowly lackeys thought themselves above others.
Lin Mu said nothing. He didn't even raise an eyelid.
He simply gazed calmly at the brute while his right hand slowly reached into his robe, withdrawing a dark, unadorned ironwood token. He tossed it casually into the mud at the brute's feet.
Splat.
The token landed with a muffled sound.
The brute instinctively looked down.
When he made out the character on the back of the token—"Zhen," written with bold, dragon-like strokes that exuded a forest of killing intent—the careless mockery on his face instantly froze.
"Lin... Supreme Elder Lin Zhen?!"
The brute's pupils contracted to pinpoints, and the fat on his body began trembling uncontrollably.
In Black Blood Stronghold, anyone who wasn't a fool knew what that character represented.
It wasn't merely a name—it was the will of the clan's highest echelon, an existence before whom even Medicine Hall elders would bow with utmost respect.
And this young steward before him actually carried the Supreme Elder's personal token!
"This... this..."
The brute's face went deathly pale in an instant. Cold sweat rolled down his forehead like rain.
His legs gave way, and right there in front of everyone, he dropped to his knees in the muddy water with a thud. With trembling hands, he lifted the token above his head.
"This lowly one was blind! This lowly one deserves death! I didn't know this was... was that lord's intention..."
His voice quavered. The arrogance from moments ago seemed never to have existed. Now there remained only a homeless dog, tail between its legs, begging for mercy.
Dead silence surrounded them.
Those who had been watching the spectacle now looked at Lin Mu with entirely different eyes. What had been curiosity transformed into deep reverence—even fear.
This was power.
No need to raise a fist, no need to roar. Merely a name, a piece of wood, and a vicious tyrant knelt begging for mercy.
Lin Mu's expression remained indifferent. He didn't take the token back. He even stepped back half a pace in disgust, lest the brute's stench of sweat reach him.
"I have no interest in meddling with your Medicine Hall's affairs."
Lin Mu's voice was flat as still water, yet carried an unquestionable authority.
"But this area is under External Affairs Hall's jurisdiction, and these rules were set by the clan. You making trouble on my turf is slapping my face."
"Compensate. Clean up this mess. Then get lost."
Three simple phrases.
To the brute, they sounded like heavenly music.
"Yes, yes, yes! This lowly one will compensate immediately! Will get lost right away!"
As if granted amnesty, the brute frantically pulled out all the Primeval Stone fragments from his robe. Without counting, he stuffed them all into Lin Ping's hands, then called his underlings to hastily clean up the mess on the ground.
Finally, he scrambled and crawled out of the marketplace, terrified that Lin Mu might change his mind.
The storm dissipated into nothing.
Lin Mu gestured with his hand, and Primeval Essence swept the token from the ground back into his palm. He wiped off the mud and hung it at his waist once more.
He turned to look at Lin Ping, still sitting on the ground, face blank with shock.
"Can you walk?"
Lin Ping stared dumbly at this familiar yet unfamiliar figure before him.
Blue-green robes, a cold and aloof bearing, every gesture carrying an authority that made others afraid to look directly at him.
Was this still the same scrawny youth who had squeezed into the communal bunks with him, who had shared half a steamed bun?
"I... I can walk." Lin Ping scrambled to his feet, awkwardly patting the dust from his clothes, still clutching that bag of compensation tightly. His palms were sweating.
"Come. Let's find somewhere to have some tea."
Lin Mu paid no mind to the reverent gazes around him and led the way toward a humble tea stall outside the marketplace.
...
In a corner of the tea stall sat two cups of coarse tea and a few plates of dried fruits.
Lin Ping perched on half his stool, looking rather ill at ease. He looked at Lin Mu across from him, opening his mouth several times to express gratitude, yet uncertain how to address him.
Brother Lin Mu? That seemed presumptuous now. Steward Mu? That felt too distant.
"Don't be nervous."
Lin Mu noticed his discomfort and raised his teacup for a sip. "I'm still me. These clothes are just for convenience."
Hearing this familiar tone, Lin Ping's taut nerves finally relaxed somewhat.
He grinned foolishly and scratched his head. "Hehe, Brother Lin Mu, you're really impressive now. Those guys just now usually have their noses in the air, but you scared their souls right out of them."
"Just a fox borrowing the tiger's might."
Lin Mu shook his head, not dwelling on the topic.
His gaze fell on Lin Ping's hands, covered in calluses and scars—marks left from years of crawling through abandoned mines and deep mountains.
"How's business lately?" Lin Mu asked casually.
At the mention of business, Lin Ping's eyes immediately lit up.
"Not bad! It's hard work, but I can get by. I recently discovered this kind of 'blue fluorite slag' in the western abandoned mines."
"It doesn't contain any vital energy, but ground into powder, it's useful for feeding certain shade-loving insect Gu."
"The problem is it's too hard to find—you have to crawl into those rat holes to dig it out..."
Lin Ping chattered on about his business dealings.
Lin Mu listened quietly, but his eyes gradually brightened.
He discovered that although Lin Ping had poor aptitude and low cultivation, his years scraping by at the bottom had given him intimate knowledge of all sorts of "low-grade but practical" obscure materials.
Where to find poisonous herbs, where to find ore slag, where to get cheap beast blood—he knew it all like the back of his hand.
This was precisely what Lin Mu currently lacked.
He needed vast amounts of time for cultivation and couldn't waste his energy gathering these trivial feeding materials.
And as the number of Gu worms in his possession grew, daily consumption had become astronomical, with countless varieties needed.
"Lin Ping."
Lin Mu interrupted him, his fingers lightly tapping the table. "I'd like to make a deal with you."
"Huh?" Lin Ping was taken aback. "Brother Lin Mu, just say the word. Anything I can do, I'll do without question!"
"I need feeding materials for various Gu worms—large quantities, and diverse."
Lin Mu pulled a money pouch from his robe and pushed it in front of Lin Ping.
"This is fifty Primeval Stones. Take it as capital. From now on, you'll specifically help me procure these things."
"Whether it's ore slag, beast blood, or obscure herbs—if it's useful, I'll buy it."
"Also..."
Lin Mu pointed at the blue-green robe on his body. "If anyone gives you trouble from now on, use my name. Within External Affairs Hall's territory, I guarantee your safety."
Lin Ping stared at the heavy pouch of Primeval Stones before him, his entire body frozen.
Fifty Primeval Stones!
For Lin Mu, it wasn't much. But for Lin Ping, this was a fortune he couldn't save even after a year of hard labor—and more than that, it was trust and opportunity he had never dared dream of.
"Brother Lin Mu..." Lin Ping's eyes reddened, his lips trembling. "I... I'm afraid I won't do a good job..."
"You'll do fine."
Lin Mu looked into his eyes, his tone calm and certain. "As long as you want to survive, there are always more solutions than problems."
Lin Ping's whole body shook.
He nodded firmly, grabbed the money pouch, and his eyes burned with the resolve of a man willing to die for one who truly knew him. "Brother, rest assured! As long as I'm alive, your supplies will never run dry!"
In that moment, the agreement was sealed.
Lin Mu watched Lin Ping's hurrying figure, watched that thin yet determined silhouette disappear into the crowd. He didn't feel he had done anything particularly noble.
He was indeed using Lin Ping—using his labor to save his own time.
But wasn't this a win for both of them?
A drop of water's kindness should be repaid with a gushing spring.
Lin Mu drained the last of the cold tea from his cup, his gaze distant.
That frozen steamed bun, in my heart, is worth far more than fifty Primeval Stones.