The traveling merchant came through once a month.
His name was Master Zhou and he sold things that were hard to get in border villages — refined medical supplies, imported spices, and occasionally, tucked under the false bottom of his middle cart, cultivation texts of varying quality.
Chen Yi had identified the false bottom on the merchant's second visit, three years ago, from the way the cart's weight distribution shifted when the declared stock was insufficient to account for the road wear on the axle.
He had not mentioned it.
He mentioned it now.
"I know about the bottom compartment," he said, standing beside the cart while Master Zhou looked at him with the expression of a man calculating whether a ten-year-old was a threat or an opportunity.
"I don't know what you—"
"Third axle. The false floor starts four inches in from the left side. You've got at least twelve texts in there, maybe more if they're thin." Chen Yi met his eyes. "I'm not going to report it. I want to look at them."
Master Zhou looked at him for a long time.
"You have money?" he asked finally.
"I have better than money." Chen Yi reached into his jacket and withdrew a folded paper. "A written diagnosis for the secondary qi blockage in your right shoulder — the one that doesn't respond to your standard treatment because it's not in the main channel but in the tertiary branch at the joint. And the herb combination that will clear it within three weeks."
The merchant stared at him.
Looked at his right shoulder.
Looked back at Chen Yi.
"How did you—"
"How much for ten minutes with the compartment."
He got fifteen minutes. He read four texts completely and memorized three partial ones before Master Zhou's patience ran out. The texts were low grade — sect outcast material, rough theorizing without proper foundation — but two of them contained techniques for the second stage of Qi Condensation that he hadn't found in Elder Sun's collection.
He handed them back without keeping notes.
He didn't need notes.
"Same deal next month?" Master Zhou asked.
"If your shoulder has cleared, yes."
The merchant looked at him with an expression that was trying to decide between wariness and admiration.
"You're going to be something," he said. "Something, or a disaster. I can't tell which."
"Probably both," Chen Yi said.
He went home and began integrating the new techniques.