Chapter 112 — Who Sold You My Herbs?
CHAPTER 112
Who Sold You My Herbs?
“Who sold you my herbs?” Qian Bo demanded.
Shi Feng stood beside a handcart loaded with sealed root packets. The question interrupted Mu An's explanation of the last two bundles.
The young herb seller turned pale. His Qi Condensation cultivation wasn't enough to stand against the Bone Refinement merchant blocking the warehouse entrance.
Qian Bo wore a brown robe and three heavy rings. Two guards stood behind him. One carried a short staff. The other's early Foundation Establishment aura was strong enough to make several workers step away.
Shi Feng looked at Mu An.
“Are they his?” Shi Feng asked.
“No,” Mu An said quickly. “I bought them from the southern growers. You checked the whole lot yesterday!”
Qian Bo snorted and slapped the cart's side.
“Every bundle from that district passes through my trade,” Qian Bo said. “You don't get to avoid my share because a young master wants cheap medicine.”
Mu An's fear turned to anger.
“You stopped buying from them!” Mu An protested. “You said the roads made the price too high!”
“And now I've changed my mind,” Qian Bo replied.
Shi Feng understood immediately. The merchant didn't want to pay the growers when the harvest arrived. Once someone else bought and carried the goods into the capital, he wanted his profit anyway.
There wasn't a hidden rule to study. Qian Bo simply expected people to be afraid of his guards.
Shi Feng thought, Good. This won't take long.
He picked up the cart handles.
Luo Hu stepped in front of him. His Bone Refinement aura rose as he tightened his grip.
“Didn't you hear Master Qian?” Luo Hu snapped.
“I heard enough,” Shi Feng replied.
Qian Bo pointed toward the warehouse.
“Leave the goods inside,” Qian Bo ordered. “We'll settle the price after I've inspected them.”
“No,” Shi Feng said.
The flat refusal made the merchant's face redden. Several workers stopped pretending not to watch.
“You think a qualification token lets you steal my trade?” Qian Bo asked.
“I paid the owner,” Shi Feng said. “You're neither the owner nor interesting. Move.”
Qian Bo looked toward the stronger guard.
“Du Jiang,” Qian Bo said. “Explain things.”
The early Foundation Establishment cultivator stepped forward. A long scar marked his forehead, and his belt held a curved refined artifact blade.
He recognised Shi Feng. Everyone near the market knew about the third-ranked candidate. Du Jiang also heard that Shi Feng only recently reached early Foundation Establishment.
He'd spent seven years at the same stage. That gave him confidence it shouldn't have.
“Young Master Shi, don't make trouble,” Du Jiang said.
“Then don't stand in front of my cart,” Shi Feng replied.
Du Jiang placed a hand on the handles. His qi flowed into his palm, pressing the wood downward.
The cart didn't move.
Shi Feng lifted the shaft with one hand and sent a measured pulse of early Foundation Establishment force through the oak frame.
The flagstone beneath Du Jiang's front boot cracked down the middle. Du Jiang's arm numbed to the shoulder; he lost his grip and staggered three paces backward into Qian Bo's tally table, spilling ink and weight-stones across the cobbles.
Around the warehouse arch, a dozen southern growers and herb carriers stopped unloading their baskets.
“That's Shi Feng—the third representative who beat Han Zong in three moves!”
“Du Jiang couldn't even hold the cart down against one hand!”
“Qian Bo refused the southern harvest last month and now wants a toll from Master Shi?”
“Why are we paying Qian Bo's gate cut at all if Master Shi buys direct?”
Du Jiang cradled his numb wrist, his face grey as he stepped behind Qian Bo instead of reaching for his curved blade. Qian Bo stood ankle-deep in scattered tally slips, his three heavy rings trembling against his sleeve as two southern growers walked straight past his overturned table to hand their sample packets to Mu An.
“What are you waiting for?” Qian Bo hissed at his guard.
“Find another guard if you want to test his sword,” Du Jiang muttered, refusing to meet Shi Feng's eyes.
Shi Feng turned the cart cleanly around the ruined table and started toward the furnace lane while the crowd parted with respectful nods.
Luo Hu shifted as though he might block them again. Shi Feng looked at the staff, then at its owner.
Luo Hu stepped aside.
Qian Bo shouted after them, but Shi Feng didn't turn. An angry merchant wasn't enough reason to miss the morning's furnace session.
Mu An helped unload the herbs in the yard before Gao Yuan could invent a fee for using the gate.
“Young Master Shi, I didn't know he'd come,” Mu An said.
“I know,” Shi Feng replied.
“He tries that whenever someone's goods sell well,” Mu An continued. “Usually they give him a little to make him leave.”
“Then he comes back,” Shi Feng said.
Mu An looked embarrassed.
“Yes,” Mu An admitted.
Shi Feng opened the last packet and checked the roots against the sample. They were fresh enough for Ning Hong's trial order and two smaller commissions. He paid the balance without deducting anything for the delay.
Mu An accepted the spirit stones carefully.
“If he bothers you again, I'll tell the market overseer,” Mu An said.
“Sell your herbs,” Shi Feng replied. “I'll handle my own trouble.”
The young seller nodded and left quickly. He wasn't a brave companion, and Shi Feng had no reason to demand that he become one. Gao Yuan peered around the doorway once the cart was gone.
“A dispute?” Gao Yuan asked.
“Someone wanted my ingredients,” Shi Feng replied.
“Will he come here?” Gao Yuan asked nervously.
“He can knock,” Shi Feng said.
The landlord didn't look reassured.
Shi Feng shut the furnace-room door and began sorting the roots. His anger faded as soon as he had useful work in front of him. Qian Bo tried to take what he bought, failed, and embarrassed himself.
If the merchant left matters there, that would be the end of it.
The first roots needed slicing rather than grinding. Shi Feng laid them across a board and cut away the dry ends. This medicine required the inner pulp and outer skin to soften together. Grinding everything first would bring the bitterness out before the useful parts joined.
He tested one small portion before opening the rest. The paste held evenly beneath his qi, and the familiar medicinal scent filled the room.
A knock came from outside.
“Your wife sent this,” Gao Yuan said through the door.
Shi Feng opened it and found a covered lunch bowl in the landlord's hands. A folded cloth rested beneath it.
“How much did you charge for carrying it?” Shi Feng asked.
Gao Yuan looked offended.
“She brought it to the gate herself!” Gao Yuan replied.
“Then why didn't she knock?” Shi Feng asked.
“She said not to interrupt the fire,” Gao Yuan answered.
Shi Feng looked down at the bowl and smiled. His irritation with the morning's merchant disappeared completely.
He put the lunch somewhere clean and returned to the furnace. Ning Hong's first order would be ready on time.
When Shi Feng stepped out at dusk to empty the cooled ash tray, Mu An stopped by the lane gate with two fresh southern contracts already signed at grower rates—and word that Qian Bo had been seen hurrying toward the Eastern Palace's outer steward office, boasting that a Yunze murder petition was about to strip the third representative of his token before the caravans ever left Great Liang.