Once the old man had gone far away, a dark-faced soldier guarding the gateway hurried over to the young man and asked quietly, "That old fellow is alone. Should we make a move?"
The young man shook his head. "Forget it. It's only one tael of silver. Not worth the effort."
As he spoke, he took a tael of silver from inside his robe and handed it to the dark-faced soldier with a broad smile. "The usual arrangement. I made two taels on this deal, so we split it evenly. One tael each."
The dark-faced soldier happily accepted the silver. "Now that's easy money. It's just a shame your Earth Pill Sect only comes here to buy Spirit Herbs once every three days.
"If only you could come every day."
The young man replied with a smile, "Aren't you being a little too greedy? Even if I came every day, where would these wretches in the Desolate Ruins find so many Spirit Herbs?"
The dark-faced soldier thought it over. "True enough."
The young man looked toward the other soldiers beneath the gateway and lowered his voice. "Are those brothers of yours reliable? If word of this gets back to my sect, neither of us will come to a good end."
The soldier thumped his chest. "Don't worry. They all get to spend the silver we make."
Only then did the young man relax. He leaned back in his long chair again, drowsy.
Three days later, the young man returned to the gateway in the Great Wall on the Sacred Martial Dynasty's border, set up his long table, and began buying Spirit Herbs from the refugees of the Desolate Ruins.
Refugees trickled in from the Desolate Ruins, exchanging the Spirit Herbs they had risked their lives to gather for silver.