Grain Prices

Lin Qing set down his chopsticks, looking utterly innocent and composed.

"Older sister, what are you thinking?"

"I was practicing in my room all last night. I never even went out."

"Zhao the Scabby owed the Black Mud Gang money. Isn't it perfectly normal for them to come collect and beat him up?"

"Pan An got caught in the crossfire because he was hanging around with him. He can only blame his own bad luck."

His tone was natural, and his eyes held a trace of schadenfreude. There wasn't a single crack in his story.

Lin Wan studied him closely for a moment. Seeing that her younger brother really didn't look like he was lying, she finally put her mind at ease and nodded. "You're right. That hooligan had offended plenty of people. He deserved what he got."

She stopped suspecting him. She simply felt that wicked people got what was coming to them, and her mood lightened considerably.

Lin Qing lowered his head and continued eating, his expression unchanged.

Some things didn't need to be said aloud.

The result was what mattered most.

In this world, yielding again and again only made people push their luck.

When necessary, one had to strike a fatal blow.

And in the end, make sure everyone—

even those closest to you—believed you had nothing to do with it.

That afternoon, the sky was somewhat overcast.

Lin Qing had just finished preparing the medicinal ingredients. He pushed open the door of Benevolent World Hall, ready to head to the martial hall as usual.

But across the street, seven or eight burly attendants stood in a crowd outside Security Hall, blocking the way completely.

At their head stood a man of about forty, dressed in a brand-new silk robe. His face was fair, but his gaze was as dark as water.

Lin Qing recognized him. He was Pan Yun, the head manager of Security Hall.

"Shopkeeper Lin, hold on."

Pan Yun's voice was quiet, yet carried an imposing force.

His gloomy gaze immediately fixed on Lin Qing.

Lin Qing noticed that Pan Yun's movements revealed not a trace of his breath, and his heart tightened.

Pan Yun seemed to have attained no small degree of cultivation.

Lin Qing stopped and looked at him calmly.

"Manager Pan, what's the meaning of this?"

"Blocking the entrance of my Benevolent World Hall. Are you planning to force a sale?"

Pan Yun snorted coldly and stepped forward, coming so close that his face was almost against Lin Qing's.

He lowered his voice, his tone menacing. "Lin Qing, quit pretending you don't know. My younger brother, Pan An, was beaten so badly at Zhao the Scabby's house last night that he's been bedridden ever since."

"Dare you say you had nothing to do with it?"

Lin Qing sneered inwardly, but his face showed indignation.

"Manager Pan, you can eat whatever you like, but you can't say whatever you like."

"What does it have to do with me if your brother got beaten?"

"I was practicing at the martial hall until evening yesterday. After I got home, I never went out again. All my neighbors can vouch for me."

"You have no proof, yet you come here to slander me. Do you really think I'm made of clay?"

Lin Qing's voice grew sharper, and his blood and qi seemed to stir within him.

Pan Yun was momentarily at a loss for words under Lin Qing's righteous rebuke. His expression grew even darker.

He truly had no evidence. It had been pitch-black last night, and Pan An and Zhao the Scabby had been beaten senseless. They hadn't been able to make out the assailant's face.

They only vaguely remembered the man claiming to be from the Black Mud Gang.

But instinctively, Pan Yun suspected Lin Qing was behind it.

After all, Zhao the Scabby had caused trouble at Benevolent World Hall just the day before.

"Hmph. You know in your heart whether you had anything to do with it."

Pan Yun's face darkened as he prepared to keep up the pressure.

"On Yongning Street, anyone who dares lay a hand on someone from the Pan Family—"

Just then, an attendant from Security Hall came hurrying over. He leaned close to Pan Yun's ear and whispered a few quick words.

Pan Yun's face turned terribly ugly. First came shock, then fury.

He abruptly turned and glared viciously toward some point at the end of the street, as if flames were about to shoot from his eyes.

"Wang Tie, you bastard! You dare lay a hand on my brother? I'll wipe out your whole family!"

He no longer spared Lin Qing another glance. With a furious roar, he led his men charging toward the area at the far end of the street where the Black Mud Gang often gathered.

Clearly, he'd received some definite information.

Watching Pan Yun and the others disappear into the distance,

Lin Qing secretly let out a breath of relief, though he was also somewhat surprised.

He hadn't expected things to take such a timely turn.

Wang Tie was a minor leader of the Black Mud Gang, notorious for his ill repute.

It was only natural that Pan Yun believed he was responsible.

"Looks like I got lucky and dodged a bullet."

"But Pan Yun holds grudges. I'll have to be even more careful from now on."

Lin Qing remained on guard. He straightened his robe and headed toward the martial hall.

Security Hall wanted to ruin his business.

Wasn't he trying to do the same to them?

As he passed through the market, he found the atmosphere utterly different from usual.

The rice and salt shops were packed with frightened crowds, and the sound of arguing rang without pause.

"Twenty coins? It was ten coins a catty yesterday! How'd it jump to twenty today?"

"You're robbing us!"

"If you're not buying, get out of the way. There are people waiting behind you!"

"You Province is gone. Who knows how high grain prices will be tomorrow?"

"Save some for me! I'll buy it, all right?"

Watching the frenzied crowds scramble to buy, Lin Qing felt secretly relieved.

Fortunately, he'd reacted quickly yesterday and decisively bought three hundred catties of brown rice. With Zhang Shun's earlier warning as well, the grain at home would last a long time.

After all, in times of chaos, food was the lifeline.

He didn't stop, hurrying through the noisy market.

When he arrived at the Iron Thread Fist Martial Hall,

the disciples were still sweating as they trained.

However, Lin Qing keenly sensed

that something subtle had changed inside the martial hall.

A crowd had gathered around the center of the training ground, an area usually reserved for Hong Yuan's personal inner disciples or the most capable students.

At the center, basking in everyone's attention, stood Liu Ying, who had only joined the day before and possessed superior bones.

She wore a fitted, pale-yellow martial outfit. Her posture was straight and her features pretty, making her stand out among the martial hall's rough-and-tumble disciples.

The one personally guiding her through the Iron Thread Stance wasn't Hong Yuan, but the martial hall's second senior brother of the inner courtyard, Feng Jianyun.

Feng Jianyun was about twenty-three or twenty-four, with fairly regular features.

But his eyes and brows carried a frivolous arrogance.

He wore a silk training outfit, setting him apart from the disciples around him in their coarse-cloth martial robes.

At that moment, he stood behind Liu Ying, practically holding her in his arms. One hand rested on her slender waist while the other adjusted the position of her arm. A smile he clearly thought charming played across his face.

"Junior Sister Liu, look. Your waist needs to sink another three inches."

"Yes, just like that. Keep your breathing steady. Good, you're so clever..."

Feng Jianyun guided her with great enthusiasm.

Liu Ying seemed uncomfortable. Her brows were faintly furrowed and her body stiff. She wanted to break free, but didn't dare openly make a scene.

Some of the disciples around them looked at Feng Jianyun with concealed envy and jealousy, but none dared step forward and interrupt.

Lin Qing watched coldly from the side.

He heard two disciples practicing together nearby speaking in low voices:

"Tsk, Senior Brother Feng's at it again."

"Looks like Junior Sister Liu won't escape his clutches."

"Keep your voice down. Don't let him hear you."

"Have you forgotten what happened to Junior Brother Li after he offended him last time? He was bedridden for half a month, and no one could figure out why."

"Ah, well. His family's from the Inner City, he's a young master of the Feng Family, and he's the master's personal disciple, too."