Two weeks had passed since the caravan left Langzhong Valley. They had braved dense forests, crossed shallow rivers, and camped under the open skies. The weather had not been kind—at times, rain poured like buckets from the heavens; at others, the wind howled wildly, making the trees creak like mournful spirits. Yet thanks to Lin Xi’s foresight, no minor issue turned into a major disaster. She knew when to halt, when to persevere, and when to deviate from the original route. The others no longer saw her merely as the leader of a merchant group—they now looked to her as the force keeping chaos at bay.
They had arrived at the third route: Blackstone Cliff.
The cliff loomed high and twisted, its path hugging a fog-covered abyss whose depths were lost to the eye. Legend had it that many merchants disappeared along this trail due to one fatal flaw: carelessness. One misstep, and your body would vanish in silence, swallowed by shadow.
That morning, Lin Xi dismounted early. She stood at the cliff’s edge, staring at the narrow track wide enough for only a single wagon to pass. The wind bit at her skin, but she remained still, her cloak fluttering beneath her mantle.
She turned to Xiao Bai and the chief guards. “From this point on, we follow the plan I laid out last night.”
She unrolled a thick coil of hemp rope coated in oil to repel moisture. Demonstrating calmly, she explained how each person would be tethered to a main line at intervals, like mountain climbers. Even the carriages would be fastened to a secondary anchor line pulled from the inner cliff side—so that if a wheel slipped, there would still be a chance to reel it back.
“I want no pride here,” she warned sharply, eyes glinting. “If you want to prove your courage, go ahead and jump. But if you want to reach Sancheng alive, follow every instruction like your life depends on it—because it does.”
No one argued. The guards nodded solemnly.
A Qiao helped hand out the harnesses. Lin Xi herself checked each knot, pulling and locking them into place, correcting a coachman with a firm, “Pull, then lock—not the other way around. One careless move decides whether you lose your cargo… or your life.”
The journey began.
The caravan moved at a crawl. Wagon wheels scraped against sharp rock. Wind rose from below, dragging veils of mist like ghostly curtains. Yet thanks to the rope system, they were able to keep balance—even when one horse slipped, the guard behind quickly hauled it back onto the path.
Lin Xi rode in the middle, watching vigilantly. At times she raised her hand to halt the group, retie a knot, or replace someone with steadier footing.
Xiao Bai, positioned in the lead, glanced back from time to time. His gaze lingered on Lin Xi—perhaps thinking: a merchant daughter, yet she moved like a seasoned general.
By the time they reached the cliff’s end, a collective exhale rippled through the group. No one had fallen. No one was hurt. Nothing lost. And for the first time, many realized—Lin Xi was more than an heiress to the Wei trade empire.
She was a leader. And beyond that—she was a threat to anyone foolish enough to underestimate her.
—
After nearly two months navigating treacherous terrain—valleys crawling with bandits, moody weather, cliffs that threatened death at every step—Shancheng finally greeted them with the clamor of marketplaces, temple bells, and the aroma of food stalls lining the streets.
Lin Xi’s first steps onto the stone-paved city road felt light. She gazed up at the golden-tinged sky, as if the city itself were blessing their arrival.
“Our first task here: find an inn big enough to house everyone, with a proper storage facility,” she said, turning toward Xiao Bai, who was riding beside her.
As agreed—and with some firm encouragement from Lin Xi—Xiao Bai was the one assigned to secure their accommodations.
“Why not let A Qiao handle it?” Xiao Bai asked coolly, his tone low as always.
Lin Xi offered a small smile. She knew he didn’t like taking orders—but he followed them anyway, like a dutiful shadow.
“A Qiao’s too softhearted. She might choose a place that drains our money out of kindness,” Lin Xi replied. “You, on the other hand… you read terrain well. You know which roads are traps and which only appear safe. I trust the instinct of someone who can throw a sword from horseback and never miss.”
Xiao Bai held her gaze briefly but said nothing. After a long sigh, he nudged his horse forward and rode ahead.
An hour later, Xiao Bai returned having secured a grand inn at the far end of the main street—far enough from the market for quiet, but close enough for convenience. Behind the main building stood a two-story storage hall with iron doors and a secure perimeter.
“Good,” Lin Xi murmured after inspecting the rooms and warehouse. She glanced at Xiao Bai, who stood silently near the stairwell. “Your choice was spot-on.”
Once everyone was assigned their rooms, the day ended with well-earned rest. The exhausted guards collapsed like felled trees. A Qiao began inventorying what remained of their medical supplies, while Lin Xi—as always—could not stay still. She reviewed their goods, reorganized shipping lists, and made notes of potential transactions in Shancheng.
But one problem remained: who would guard the goods that night?
“Just ask your maid,” Xiao Bai refused when Lin Xi approached him with the request.
“A Qiao’s exhausted, and you know I can’t trust the others just yet,” Lin Xi argued, stepping closer as Xiao Bai polished his blade.
Still refusing and not even looking her way, Xiao Bai said, “Not me.”
“But you’re the only one who can tell the difference between a rat’s scurry and an intruder’s step.” Lin Xi leaned against a post, wearing her most mischievous smile. “Or… are you afraid you won’t sleep well tonight because you’ll miss dreaming of me?”
Xiao Bai turned sharply, brows furrowed. “I don’t have nightmares.”
“Good,” Lin Xi said sweetly. “Then guarding our goods shouldn’t be a problem. After all, only a capable man deserves such a big responsibility. But if you think it’s too much for you, I could ask that bald bearded guy instead—what was his name again? Ah, yes, Lao Er.”
Xiao Bai’s jaw tightened. Without a word, he snatched the key from Lin Xi’s hand and walked off toward the warehouse.
Lin Xi smiled to herself and whispered under her breath, “Men are still men. Feed their ego a little, and even a tiger will act like a tame kitten.”