Chapter 44 — The Roadside Incident

By the fourth day of their journey, the expedition trade wagon and the plush lead carriage had settled into a comfortable, rhythmic travel routine. Crimson guided the twin black spirit steeds with effortless precision, while Xiao Yu utilized the travel hours to organize future ledger templates, and Sect Master Lu happily inspected various spice samples they had acquired at provincial stops along the highway.

Around noon, the carriages approached a bustling, open-air roadside market situated at a major crossroads just outside a provincial trading hub. Colorful tents stretched across the dusty plain, filled with traveling merchants, wandering spell-smiths, and local farmers selling everything from iron tools to spiritual artifacts.

"Let's make a brief operational stop," Lin Fan called out, opening the carriage window and peering at the lively stalls. "Our stock of fresh daily vegetables is running low, and Lu insists we need fresh mountain ginger for tomorrow's menu."

Crimson smoothly guided the carriages to a designated parking area near the edge of the market square. The team stepped out to stretch their legs, with Xiao Ling and tiny Xiao Mei eagerly walking alongside Lin Fan to look at the colorful displays of fresh produce, dried fruits, and handmade trinkets.

However, as they navigated deeper into the crowded market lanes, the cheerful atmosphere suddenly soured.

Near a quiet corner stall draped with woven canvas, a small, trembling family—an elderly gray-haired herbalist and his young granddaughter—was cowering behind a wooden table laden with woven baskets filled with rare, vibrant green alpine herbs. Standing aggressively over them were three young cultivators clad in flashy red-and-gold robes, their leather scabbards bearing the insignia of the local Blazing Sun Sect.

"Are you deaf, old man?!" the lead cultivator shouted, slamming his hand down onto the wooden table so hard the baskets rattled. "We told you last week! The market protection fee for selling grade-two spiritual herbs in this district has doubled! Hand over fifty spirit stones right now, or we smash your stall and scatter your weeds to the wind!"

The old herbalist trembled violently, clutching a small leather pouch to his chest with tear-filled eyes. "I-Honored immortals, please have mercy! My granddaughter is sick, and we used all our savings just to gather these alpine mints from the high cliffs! Fifty spirit stones is everything we earned this month! If we give it to you, we will starve!"

"That sounds like a personal problem," the second cultivator sneered, drawing his sword half an inch out of its scabbard, letting a harsh wave of spiritual pressure wash over the terrified family. "Pay up, or—"

Lin Fan, who had been standing a few paces away with a basket of fresh onions in his hand, initially wanted to ignore the scene. In the vast, chaotic cultivation world, street-level extortion by low-tier sect thugs was a daily occurrence. Lin Fan was an innkeeper, not a wandering knight-errant on a quest to purge the realm of evil.

Not my circus, not my monkeys, Lin Fan thought, turning on his heel to walk away. We have a strict schedule to keep.

Then, his eyes drifted back toward the wooden baskets on the table.

Through the weave of the rattan, Lin Fan caught a clear, distinct view of the herbs the old man was selling. They weren't just random weeds. They were pristine, perfectly preserved bundles of Frost-Leaf Mint and Jade-Root Ginger—rare, premium culinary herbs with an exceptionally clean aroma that Sect Master Lu had been lamenting the absence of since they left Qingshui Town. They were the exact, high-grade specialty ingredients needed to elevate their upcoming capital competition menu.

Lin Fan stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned around, adjusted his apron, and walked straight toward the confrontation.

The three Blazing Sun cultivators were still towering over the trembling herbalist when a calm, polite voice broke through their threats.

"Excuse me," Lin Fan said, stepping past them and leaning over the table.

The three cultivators blinked in sheer astonishment, looking down at the unassuming man in a clean white apron who had just casually inserted himself into their shakedown.

"What do you want, mortal?" the lead thug snapped, glaring at Lin Fan. "Get lost before we cut you down for insolence!"

Lin Fan completely ignored the threat. He picked up a bundle of the Jade-Root Ginger, inspected its roots with a professional eye, and nodded with quiet satisfaction. Then, he looked up at the terrified old herbalist.

"How much for all those herbs?" Lin Fan asked smoothly.

The market square went completely silent. Passersby stopped walking, staring at the strange man in disbelief.

The lead cultivator stared at Lin Fan for three seconds before bursting into a loud, mocking laugh. "Hahaha! Are you deaf or just stupid, old man? We were just demanding fifty spirit stones from this beggar! If you want to play the hero, it'll cost you! Hand over one hundred low-grade spirit stones right now, or get out of our sight!"

The cultivator named an absurd, highway-robbery price, fully expecting Lin Fan to turn pale, stammer, and run away in terror.

Instead, Lin Fan simply reached into his robe, pulled out a neat leather pouch filled with sparkling low-grade spirit stones, and dropped the exact requested amount directly onto the wooden table with a heavy, satisfying clack.

"One hundred spirit stones," Lin Fan said casually. "Exact payment for the entire stock. Package them up for me, please."

The lead cultivator’s jaw hit the dirt. His two companions stared at the pile of glowing spirit stones in utter, paralyzed shock. The old herbalist’s eyes bulged, his hands shaking even harder as he looked at the fortune suddenly resting on his table.

The bullies immediately assumed Lin Fan was a wealthy, cowardly merchant who was simply terrified of their cultivation aura and eager to buy his way out of trouble. A greedy, sinister grin spread across the lead thug’s face. He quickly scooped up the spirit stones, pocketing them with lightning speed.

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"Hah! Smart choice, old man!" the thug sneered, puffing out his chest. "You've got a lot of spirit stones to throw around! If you know what's good for you, you'll leave another hundred stones as a 'road tax' before you exit this market!"

Lin Fan didn't bother arguing. He simply gestured for Xiao Ling to help the old herbalist load the herb baskets into their travel cart, paid no mind to the jeering cultivators, and turned to walk away.

As they walked down the dusty path, Lin Fan glanced back over his shoulder. He noticed that despite receiving a massive payout, the old herbalist and his granddaughter were still standing near their cart, pale, trembling, and looking around with wide eyes full of lingering terror.

Lin Fan paused, frowning slightly. He walked back over and crouched beside the old man. "Uncle, you've got your payment now. Why do you still look so frightened? Did those guys short you on the price?"

The old herbalist wiped a tear from his cheek, looking around fearfully. "N-No, honored master... The price was more than fair. But... but those Blazing Sun disciples... they extort every merchant and gatherer in this district every single market day. Even if we keep the money today, they will wait for you to leave, track us down on our way back to the village, and beat us half to death to take it all back. We have nowhere safe to go."

Lin Fan’s calm, relaxed expression slowly hardened.

He stood up, let out a long, weary sigh, and muttered under his breath, "I knew this was going to happen."

He turned around.

Without Lin Fan even needing to utter a single word, Crimson was already standing directly behind him. The ancient demon lord had materialized out of thin air like a silent ghost, his dark sleeves folded neatly, his glowing ruby-red eyes fixed on the three Blazing Sun cultivators who were currently laughing amongst themselves fifty feet away.

"Master," Crimson’s smooth, chilling voice cut through the dusty air. "Shall I adjust their attitude regarding market taxation?"

"Don't kill anyone, Crimson," Lin Fan instructed flatly, brushing a speck of dust off his apron. "Just give them a brief, unforgettable lesson in basic commercial ethics and property rights. And make sure they return every single spirit stone they extorted from the locals this month."

"Understood," Crimson replied softly.

Before the three young cultivators even realized what was happening, a towering shadow fell over them.

The lead thug turned around, opening his mouth to hurl another insult, but the moment his eyes met Crimson’s cold, lifeless red gaze, the words died instantly in his throat. A crushing, insurmountable wave of ancient, terrifying pressure descended upon the three cultivators.

There was no grand explosion of spellcasting, no flashy sword clashes. There was only a dull, muffled thud, blood started flowing from mouths of three cultivators as they were crippled just from terrifying pressure, and the sound of heavy coin pouches hitting the dirt.

Ten seconds later, Crimson walked calmly back to Lin Fan’s side, holding a bulging sack of spirit stones. He handed the sack to Lin Fan with a polite bow. "Recovered assets, Master. Plus a modest administrative compensation fee paid by the gentlemen."

Lin Fan took the pouch, walked over to the bewildered old herbalist, and gently placed the heavy bag of spirit stones back into the old man's trembling hands.

"Keep your earnings, Uncle," Lin Fan said warmly. "And don't worry about those thugs anymore. They won't be bothering this market for a very long time."

The old herbalist stared at the pouch, then looked up at Lin Fan with a gaze of profound, overwhelming gratitude. He dropped to his knees, his granddaughter following suit, bowing deeply toward the ground. "Thank you, immortal! Thank you, kind master! You have saved our lives!"

"Please, get up," Lin Fan said, helping the old man back to his feet with a reassuring smile. As he looked at the baskets of pristine alpine herbs, a practical, forward-thinking idea sparked in his mind.

"Say, Uncle," Lin Fan continued, pulling out a blank parchment and a writing brush from his travel pouch. "What is your name, and how consistent is your herb harvesting?"

"I am Old He, master," the herbalist replied respectfully. "My family has gathered alpine herbs in these mountains for three generations."

"Well, Old He," Lin Fan smiled, quickly drafting a clean agreement on the parchment. "I run an establishment called Lin's Inn. We use a massive volume of fresh culinary herbs and medicinal roots every single week. Instead of selling your harvest here in a risky, chaotic street market, how would you like an official, long-term supply contract?"

Old He blinked, stunned. "A... long-term supply contract?"

"Precisely," Lin Fan nodded, explaining the terms clearly. "Lin's Inn guarantees to purchase your entire monthly harvest of Frost-Leaf Mint and Jade-Root Ginger at a fixed, highly competitive market rate. We will arrange regular transport pickups, provide stable, guaranteed payments in advance, and ensure your family is placed under the direct protection of our security division. No local thugs will ever dare touch your carts again."

The old herbalist’s lips quivered. For a mortal family constantly living under the boot of abusive cultivators and unstable market prices, a secure, guaranteed contract with a powerful, benevolent establishment was nothing short of a divine miracle.

Tears streamed down Old He’s weathered cheeks as he pressed his thumb into the red ink pad and stamped his seal onto the bottom of Lin Fan’s parchment. "We accept, Shopkeeper Lin! My family will dedicate every waking hour to supplying your inn!"

Ting!

Directly before Lin Fan’s eyes, the golden System interface materialized, flashing with warm, celebratory light:

[System Alert: Commercial Network Expansion!]

[New Supplier Relationship Established: He Family Herb Logistics.]

[Hospitality Network Expanded: Regional Sourcing Secured.]

[Hospitality Points Bonus: +800 Points Awarded!]

Lin Fan smiled, dismissing the glowing prompt with a light wave of his hand. He rolled up the signed contract, handed a copy to Xiao Yu for the permanent travel ledgers, and turned back toward the expedition caravan.

"Alright, team! Break's over!" Lin Fan called out cheerfully, dusting off his hands. "Load the herbs into the supply wagon! We have miles to cover before sunset!"

The team quickly returned to their respective carriages. Crimson climbed back onto the driver's bench, snapping the leather reins with a sharp crack, and the two heavy wooden carriages smoothly rolled back onto the wide imperial highway, leaving the peaceful roadside market behind them.

For the next two days, the journey continued across rolling green hills, winding through peaceful valleys and crossing ancient stone bridges as they drew closer and closer to their ultimate destination.

It was late afternoon on the sixth day when the carriages crested a massive, towering rise in the stone highway.

Lin Fan, who had been reviewing his ledger by the window, suddenly felt the carriage slow to a gentle halt. He looked up, pushed open the wooden window shutters, and leaned outside to see what was blocking the road.

Instead of an obstacle, what met his eyes left him completely, utterly speechless.

Sprawling across the horizon beneath a brilliant, golden sunset was a city of unimaginable, jaw-dropping proportions.

Towering white jade walls, high enough to pierce the drifting clouds, encircled a vast, endless expanse of golden-tiled roofs, towering imperial pagodas, floating spiritual pavilions, and bustling districts that stretched as far as the eye could see. Rivers of shimmering light flowed like ribbons through the grand metropolis, and majestic airships glided silently above the distant spires.

It wasn't just a town. It was an empire carved into stone and sky—the beating heart of the entire realm.

The Imperial Capital.

Lin Fan stood on the carriage step, staring out at the breathtaking, colossal vista with wide, unblinking eyes. He swallowed hard, letting out a soft, astounded breath as the sheer reality of their mission settled over him.

"That's..." Lin Fan whispered to himself, a mixture of nervous excitement and fierce corporate ambition surging through his veins. "...a lot bigger than Qingshui Town."