When the crowd finally dispersed, the medicinal field was left littered with the hollow shells of Spirit-Devouring Insects.
Under the setting sun, the empty husks glistened with an eerie, oily sheen.
Wang Duobao squatted on the ground, poking at a golden wing fragment left behind by a Seven-Star Beetle. He clicked his tongue in amazement.
"Brother Jiang, if we could raise these things," he said, eyes gleaming, "we'd be rich. Imagine it—breeding beetles that eat Spirit-Devouring Insects. The stewards would be begging us on their knees."
"It won't work," Jiang Muchen replied, shaking his head. His gaze drifted toward the darkening forest to the west.
"Seven-Star Beetles only feed on naturally clustered insects in the wild. Anything artificially supplied, they won't even touch. It's instinct—etched into their blood."
Zheng Xiaoqi was carefully scraping up the unburned residue of the insect-attracting incense with a wooden spoon, funneling it into a cloth pouch. Jiang Muchen had said it could still be used three more times. Not a speck was to be wasted.
"Senior Brother Jiang," Zheng Xiaoqi suddenly whispered, his voice barely audible. "The person in the forest… has left."
Jiang Muchen nodded.
From the moment the beetle swarm appeared, his spiritual sense had quietly spread outward like a web, locking onto the presence hidden deep within the western woods. Whoever it was had concealed themselves well—but not well enough to escape the perception of the Art of Myriad Spirit Resonance.
The watcher had remained concealed through the entire extermination. Only when the beetles scattered and the crowd dispersed did that presence fade away, silent as a ghost.
Zhao Xiaoliu.
Jiang Muchen was almost certain. That cold, clammy aura—there was only one person like that in the entire menial quarters.
Why had he been watching?
Curiosity?
Or something else?
"Let's go back," Jiang Muchen said, reining in his thoughts. "The Corrosive Bone Flower paste will last three days. No new insects will approach during that time. Senior Sister Lin won't be troubling us for now."
They had just finished packing up when hurried footsteps echoed from afar.
A man came running—no, stumbling—toward them. It was Li Si, Jiang Muchen's roommate, usually timid to the point of invisibility. His face was white as paper.
"J-Jiang—Senior Brother!" Li Si gasped. "Something happened at the Mission Hall!"
"Slow down," Jiang Muchen said.
"S-Senior Sister Lin just got back and posted a new notice!" Li Si wheezed.
"Three more mu of medicinal fields—next to Field C-7—have been infested! They're urgently recruiting people to exterminate the insects tonight… but the pay's been cut to twenty spirit fragments per person!"
Wang Duobao's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
"Twenty?! Has she lost her mind? We just cleared three mu for ninety fragments! Now she wants twenty for the same job? That's not even enough to insult a beggar!"
Zheng Xiaoqi said nothing, but the veins on the back of his hand bulged as he clenched the wooden spoon.
Jiang Muchen was silent for a moment.
"Anyone accept it?"
"N-No!" Li Si shook his head frantically. "Everyone saw how bad it was earlier. Senior Brother Sun Hao was cursing her out—said she's treating us like livestock, working us to death…"
Before he could finish, Jiang Muchen had already turned and started walking toward the Mission Hall.
"Brother Jiang!" Wang Duobao hurried after him. "You're not thinking of taking this job, are you? This is robbery!"
"I'm just going to take a look," Jiang Muchen said, not slowing his pace.
The notice board outside the Mission Hall was packed with people—yet not a single hand reached out to take the mission.
Lin Yueyao stood beneath the board, her expression dark as thunder. Beside her were the medicinal garden steward and two outer disciples from Pill Cauldron Peak, all standing stiffly, not daring to breathe.
"Well?" Lin Yueyao's voice was cold as winter steel.
"No one's taking it? Earlier, you all watched Jiang Muchen work with such enthusiasm. Now that it's your turn, you've all gone mute?"
Silence. Absolute silence.
Sun Hao stood at the front with his arms crossed, a mocking smile on his face.
"Senior Sister Lin, it's not that we won't take it. But twenty spirit fragments? You know how dangerous Spirit-Devouring Insects are. That won't even cover a bottle of healing salve."
"Yeah—"
"At least fifty!"
A few voices echoed weakly from the crowd.
Lin Yueyao's chest rose and fell sharply.
Did she want to pay so little? Of course not.
But Pill Cauldron Peak's budget for the month was already blown. Her own savings were gone. If she couldn't save this batch of Golden Thread Grass, her plan to break into second-rank alchemy would collapse entirely.
And with it—her position as a registered disciple.
But she couldn't say any of that.
To say it would be to show weakness.
"Thirty," she said through clenched teeth.
"Thirty fragments. That's the limit. Take it, or I'll hire a professional extermination team."
The crowd stirred.
A professional team cost at least fifty low-grade spirit stones per job. If she really did that, the harvest from these three mu wouldn't even cover the expense.
But that wasn't their problem.
Just as the standoff reached its peak, the crowd suddenly parted.
Jiang Muchen stepped forward.
Every gaze snapped toward him—surprise, disdain, schadenfreude all mixed together.
Sun Hao laughed.
"Well, if it isn't our great Jiang guest disciple. What—food at the Artifact Hall not filling enough? Came here to scrape together thirty fragments?"
Jiang Muchen ignored him and walked straight up to the notice board.
"Senior Sister," he said, looking at Lin Yueyao.
"The infestation in these three mu—same as Field C-7?"
She hesitated. "Roughly the same. But the numbers are likely double."
"I'll take it," Jiang Muchen said.
The crowd exploded.
Even Lin Yueyao froze.
"You… what did you say?"
"I'll take it," Jiang Muchen repeated calmly. "On one condition."
"Say it," she replied without thinking.
"For these three mu," Jiang Muchen said, "I'll only charge ten spirit fragments."
Shock.
"But," he continued, "if I succeed, then from this day forward, all pest control for Pill Cauldron Peak's medicinal fields will give me priority."
Dead silence.
Ten fragments?
Three mu?
And long-term priority rights?
Wang Duobao nearly fainted. Zheng Xiaoqi grabbed him before he could speak.
Sun Hao burst out laughing.
"Ten? Jiang Muchen, have you finally starved yourself stupid? Do you know what extermination teams charge?"
Jiang Muchen still didn't look at him.
Lin Yueyao stared at Jiang Muchen, her eyes sharp.
She wasn't foolish.
He wasn't after the ten fragments.
He wanted the contract—a steady, long-term hold over Pill Cauldron Peak's medicinal fields.
Once bound, access to resources would naturally follow.
A dangerous calculation.
After ten long breaths, Lin Yueyao smiled—not coldly, but with a glint of appreciation edged with caution.
"Fine," she said.
"I agree."
She tossed him a jade token.
"Temporary Pill Cauldron Peak access. Three days. With this, you may enter the gardens freely and requisition materials as needed."
Jiang Muchen caught it.
"Thank you, Senior Sister."
"Don't thank me yet," she said, turning away, then pausing.
"These insects are twice as many as before. Is your incense enough?"
"I have my methods."
"Good." She glanced back once more. "I'll be watching."
She left.
As the crowd dispersed, Sun Hao lingered, face dark.
"You think climbing onto Senior Sister Lin's leg will save you?" he hissed.
"Pill Cauldron Peak isn't shallow water. Careful you don't drown."
"Much appreciated," Jiang Muchen replied evenly.
When all was quiet, Wang Duobao finally exploded.
"Brother Jiang! Are you insane? Ten fragments?! We just earned ninety!"
"Not a loss," Jiang Muchen said, weighing the jade token in his palm.
"Do you know how many medicinal fields Pill Cauldron Peak has?"
"…No?"
"One hundred and twenty mu," Jiang Muchen said calmly.
"Annual pest control costs exceed three hundred spirit stones. Take even half—and we eat for years."
Wang Duobao froze, fingers twitching unconsciously as if working an abacus.
"But… we don't have that kind of capability—"
"Not yet," Jiang Muchen said. "We will."
He straightened.
"Duobao—sixty jin of Corrosive Bone Flowers. Xiaoqi—fifteen jin each of sulfur and realgar powder. And find hollow bamboo. I'm upgrading the incense."
They ran.
Jiang Muchen stood alone before the notice board as night wind rustled the paper.
A voice echoed faintly in his memory—the last words Bai Gui had left him:
"The core of commerce isn't profit. It's demand.
Find what someone needs most—and you earn the right to set the price."
What did Lin Yueyao need most?
Not pest control.
But security.
Her status.
Her ambition.
And the pride she couldn't afford to lose.
Jiang Muchen would make himself indispensable.
And once she got used to stepping on that stone—
She'd realize it wasn't a stepping stone anymore.
It was the road itself.
Creed of the Licking Path:
The deadliest discount is the one that signs the longest contract.
In this world, what's free often costs the most.