The servant's words hung in the air long after she had departed, casting a pall of heavy silence over the tranquil pavilion. The annual hunt. The departure of the Xiao Clan's experts. The Galeo Clan's suspicious military preparations. The pieces clicked into place with the chilling finality of a closing tomb. The plot wasn't just broken; it was careening towards its first major flashpoint, and we were standing at ground zero.
Ming was the first to speak, a low, dangerous excitement simmering in his voice. "Well, Qing-er. It seems the universe has decided to hand us an opportunity on a silver platter."
I walked over to the window, staring out at the peaceful courtyard, my mind a whirlwind of possibilities and consequences. "We have three choices," I said, thinking aloud, my voice a quiet murmur. My Taigong Wang template's influence was asserting itself, laying out the strategic landscape with cold, impartial clarity.
"First, we do nothing," I began. "We let the Galeo Clan and their pet alchemist launch their attack. The Xiao Clan's marketplaces will suffer catastrophic losses. In the aftermath, a desperate Xiao Yan will be forced by Yao Lao to reveal his own latent alchemical talent to save his family. It's a pivotal moment for his character. This is the path of non-interference."
"Boring," Ming scoffed from his chair. "And we'd gain nothing. Next."
"Second," I continued, ignoring his interruption, "we warn them. We are their official business partners now. A timely warning would prevent their financial ruin and earn us their immense gratitude, solidifying our alliance. However, it would also raise an immediate, burning question: how did we know? It would place our mysterious origins under a microscope. It's a high-risk, high-reward diplomatic gambit."
"Risky," he conceded. "And it still doesn't get us much tangible benefit. What's the third option? I have a feeling it's the one I'm going to like."
I turned from the window, my expression serious. "Option three is the path of the predator. When two tigers fight over a carcass, a clever jackal can feast for a week. The Galeo Clan's attack will be economic. They will flood the market with cheaper, superior goods, forcing the Xiao Clan into a desperate price war. To generate cash flow, the Xiao Clan will be forced to liquidate their raw assets—specifically, their vast inventory of medicinal herbs—at rock-bottom prices. We, armed with my knowledge of their true value, can sweep in and acquire a massive stockpile of high-level ingredients for a fraction of their actual worth."
A slow, predatory grin spread across Ming's face. It was the answer he had been waiting for. "A fire sale," he breathed, his voice filled with avaricious glee. "Qing-er, you're a genius. Why on earth would we stop a war when we can get rich from it? This is the perfect plan. It's ruthless, it's profitable, and it uses our advantages perfectly."
His immediate acceptance was no surprise. This path aligned perfectly with his pragmatic, power-focused worldview. For me, the decision was more complex. A part of me, the part that still cherished the memory of the story, felt a pang of guilt at the thought of profiting from the Xiao Clan's misfortune. Xiao Zhan had been gracious. They had treated us as honored guests.
But the other, larger part of me—the survivor, the strategist—knew that Ming was right. Our doctrine was clear: our survival and growth came first. Sentimentality was a luxury we could not afford. This was not just an opportunity to get rich; it was a chance to acquire the very materials I needed to accelerate my own unique cultivation, to power-level my soul-refining abilities at an explosive rate. This was a necessary step on our path to becoming strong enough to weather the far greater storms that lay ahead.
"I agree," I said finally, my voice firm, my internal conflict resolved. "We'll pursue the third option. We will be vultures, and we will pick the bones clean." I paused, adding a single condition. "However, we won't let the Galeo Clan completely crush them. A wounded animal is more dangerous than a dead one. If it looks like the Xiao Clan is on the verge of total collapse, we may need to intervene in a small, anonymous way. It's strategically better to have them as a weakened, indebted ally than to allow the Galeo Clan to become the sole power in this city."
Ming considered this for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine. We can play God a little bit if it makes you feel better. But the profit comes first. The main course is for us; they can have the scraps."
With our decision made, the atmosphere in the room shifted from tense deliberation to focused, energetic planning. The next day was spent in meticulous preparation.
First, I created our target list. I sat with a brush and ink, and from the depths of my meta-knowledge, I wrote down a detailed list of over two dozen herbs. They were ingredients that appeared unremarkable to a Tier 1 or 2 alchemist but were, in fact, crucial components for Tier 4, 5, and even 6 pills. I listed herbs like the "Bone-Tempering Grass," essential for physical refinement pills; the "Purple-leafed Orchid," a key ingredient in soul-calming medicines; and the "Ice-crystal Vine," a plant that grew in cold climates and was vital for pills that balanced fiery energies. I knew their true value, and I knew the Xiao Clan's inventory, meant to supply a whole city, would be rich with them.
Next, we pooled our capital. After our purchase of the Monster Cores, we were left with just over five hundred gold coins. It was a pittance, but if the market crashed as hard as I predicted, it would be enough.
Finally, we devised our operational logistics. A chaotic, panicked market would be a dangerous place. We would act together. I would be the "expert," the face of the operation, using my knowledge to identify the deals and negotiate the purchases. Ming would be the "muscle," his imposing presence and his invisible Infinity creating a protective bubble around us, warding off any potential thieves or troublemakers who might see a beautiful woman with a large coin purse as an easy target. We hired a sturdy cart and a discreet driver for the day, instructing him to wait for us in a nearby alley.
We were ready. We were no longer reacting to events. We were setting a trap, baited with our knowledge, ready to spring it on the chaos of a predictable future.
The morning of the Xiao Clan's hunting expedition dawned bright and clear, but a palpable tension hung over Wu Tan City. The sight of several dozen of the clan's Dou Shi experts and high-level Dou Zhe riding out of the city gates was a public spectacle. Their departure left a power vacuum, a perceived weakness that had the entire city holding its breath, waiting to see who would make the first move.
We didn't have to wait long.
We positioned ourselves at a tea house across the street from the Xiao Clan's largest marketplace pavilion, a grand, three-story building that served as their commercial flagship. From our second-story window, we had a perfect view of the unfolding drama.
The first move was subtle. The market stalls owned by the Galeo Clan, which were interspersed throughout the district, suddenly and simultaneously slashed their prices on common healing ointments and low-level pills by thirty percent. It was a classic undercutting strategy, designed to bleed their rival's customer base dry.
Then came the main assault.
A procession of carts, heavily laden and bearing the Galeo Clan insignia, rumbled down the main street. They were led by a haughty, middle-aged man in an alchemist's robe whose chest was adorned with a badge bearing two silver stars. I recognized him instantly: Jia Lie Bi, the Tier 2 Alchemist who had thrown his lot in with the Galeo Clan.
His men swiftly erected a large, temporary stall directly opposite the Xiao Clan's main pavilion. It was a blatant declaration of war. Jia Lie Bi himself began to hawk his wares, his voice amplified by Dou Qi. He was selling healing pills of a visibly higher quality than the Xiao Clan's standard stock, and at a lower price.
The effect was immediate and devastating. The crowds of mercenaries and common citizens, who cared for brand loyalty far less than they cared for their own coin purses, began to flock to Jia Lie Bi's stall. The Xiao Clan's pavilion, usually bustling with activity, saw its foot traffic dwindle to a trickle.
The managers inside the Xiao Clan shop panicked. They had their orders, but they were not prepared for an assault of this magnitude. They tried to compete, dropping their own prices, but it was a losing battle. Their quality was lower, their prices now matched. They were hemorrhaging money with every passing minute.
Ming and I watched from the tea house, sipping our tea with the detached calm of sharks circling a bleeding seal. We waited. The chaos needed to ripen, the desperation needed to peak.
After another hour, it happened. To generate immediate cash to offset their losses from the pill war, the panicked Xiao Clan managers made a fateful decision: they began to sell off their raw medicinal herb inventory. Signs were hastily put up, advertising discounts of fifty, then sixty, then a staggering seventy percent.
"That's our cue," I said, placing my teacup down. "Showtime."
We left the tea house and walked into the storm. The atmosphere in the street was electric, a frenzy of opportunistic buyers and panicked sellers. We moved through the chaos, Ming's presence alone parting the crowd. We ignored the main pavilion and headed for the smaller, dedicated herb repository behind it.
Here, the scene was one of pure desperation. A harried-looking Xiao Clan manager was shouting himself hoarse, trying to sell off bundles of herbs to anyone who would buy them. This was our target.
I approached him, my expression one of calm, business-like interest. "Sir," I said, my voice cutting through his panicked shouting. "I hear you are liquidating your inventory."
"Young Miss Bai!" he exclaimed, recognizing me from my previous visit. His face was slick with sweat, but a flicker of hope entered his eyes. "Yes, yes! Everything must go! The finest prices in the city!"
"I am not interested in your common grasses," I said coolly. I produced the list I had written. "I am interested in these specific items. Your entire stock of them. I will pay the current discounted market price in full. In cash. Right now."
He snatched the list from my hand, his eyes scanning it rapidly. Bone-Tempering Grass, Purple-leafed Orchid, Ice-crystal Vine… He saw a list of what he considered mid-tier, slow-moving inventory. He didn't recognize their true, combined value. All he saw was a massive bulk order, a lifeline of hundreds of gold coins that could help him weather the immediate assault from the Galeo Clan.
"Done!" he agreed without a moment's hesitation. "It's a deal! Men! Get the Young Miss what she wants! Now!"
Servants scrambled to fulfill the order, hauling out crate after crate of what I knew to be priceless alchemical ingredients. They began loading them onto the cart we had waiting in the alley. I was in the midst of handing over a heavy pouch of gold, a triumphant smile on my face, when a furious shout erupted from behind me.
"You!"
I turned. Standing there, his face a mask of pure rage, was Xiao Ning. The clan's top young disciple, his fists clenched, his knuckles white. He had clearly been sent to assess the damage, only to find me, their supposed new business partner, systematically gutting his family's storerooms while they were under attack.
"What is the meaning of this?!" he snarled, striding forward. "You dare to profit from our family's misfortune? I knew you were suspicious! You're nothing but a vulture!"
He was drawing a crowd, his accusations loud and public. This was a complication I had not anticipated. Before I could formulate a diplomatic reply, he lunged, not at me, but at the nearest crate of herbs, intending to stop the sale by force.
He never made it.
Ming moved. He didn't even seem to step forward, he was just suddenly there, between me and the enraged Xiao Ning. He didn't raise a hand. He didn't say a word. He just stood there.
Xiao Ning's charge came to a dead, comical halt about a foot away from Ming, as if he'd run into an invisible wall of solid stone. He pushed, his 7 Duan Dou Zhi Qi flaring, but he couldn't move forward an inch. His face went from rage to utter disbelief.
"What… what is this sorcery?" he gasped, straining against the unseen force of the Infinity.
The entire crowd stared, speechless.
Ming simply tilted his head. "I believe," he said, his voice dangerously calm, "that we had a business arrangement."