The sound of Young Master Zhao's unconscious body hitting the dirty wooden floor landed with a wet, pathetic THUD.
The sound was so anticlimactic, so absurd, that Lin Qing's tear-filled, hysterical laughter stopped instantly. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her.
Silence descended upon the Qing Shop once more.
On one side of the counter lay a glittering pile of silver—an unimaginable fortune. On the other side lay a soggy heap of aristocratic trash, passed out from the shock and exhaustion of washing a single sack.
Lin Qing stared at Young Master Zhao's living corpse. Then she looked at Ye Feng.
Ye Feng, the Immortal Cultivator, tilted his head, analyzing this new phenomenon with clinical interest. "Ah," he said, as if he'd just solved a puzzle. "It seems the gap between his expected reality and his observed reality was too great. His Sea of Consciousness suffered a shock, and to protect his weak spiritual core, his mortal body decided to... reboot. Fascinating."
"He's not rebooting!" Lin Qing hissed, her panic returning with a vengeance, mixed with overwhelming exasperation. "He fainted! On my shop floor! Great. Perfect. What's next?!"
She leaped out from behind the counter, her heart pounding from a mix of adrenaline, laughter, and stress. "We can't just leave him here! What if someone comes in? What if his father sends guards to check on him? They'll think we killed him!"
Ye Feng seemed confused by the panic. "Technically, he is just asleep. He will wake in an hour, perhaps with a slight headache and a bruised ego. His meridians are fine, just a little... twisted."
"I don't care about his twisted meridians!" Lin Qing snapped. "We have to move him." She tried to nudge Zhao Feng's shoulder with her foot. The man didn't budge; he was a heavy, wet sack of burlap.
"XIONG!" Lin Qing yelled toward the back door.
In a second, the giant was there, filling the doorframe. He looked at the prone form of Young Master Zhao. His eyes showed no concern, only mild curiosity.
"Madam Boss?"
"He fainted," Lin Qing said, rubbing her temples.
Xiong snorted. "The silk worm. He's broken? Should I... dump him... behind Liu's Shop?"
"No!" Lin Qing said. "We are not dumping aristocratic trash in the alley, no matter how much I want to. Grab him."
"Where to?"
"The warehouse," Lin Qing said without hesitation. "There's a pile of dry burlap sacks in the corner. Throw him on it. At least it's warm in there and he'll be out of the way. He can... 'rest'... before continuing his work."
A thin, malicious smile appeared on Xiong's face. "Understood, Madam Boss."
Xiong stepped forward. He didn't bend down carefully. He simply grabbed the front of Zhao Feng's filthy robe with one massive hand, lifted the Young Master off the floor as if he weighed no more than a chicken, and dragged him. Zhao Feng's limp legs scraped along the floor, leaving a small, muddy trail.
Thud. Drag. Drag. Slam.
The sound of the warehouse door closing echoed. The first problem... was handled.
Now, the room was quiet again. Just Lin Qing, Ye Feng, and the second, much larger problem.
The mountain of silver.
Lin Qing walked back to the counter. She circled it, but didn't touch the money. She just stared at it. Four hundred silver. In coins and small ingots. Enough to fill several large pouches.
"Four hundred silver," she whispered, her voice full of awe. She reached out a slightly trembling hand and touched a coin. It was cold. Real.
This was no longer survival money. This wasn't money for firewood or to pay off a small debt.
This was dangerous money.
"Ye Feng," she said softly, not looking away from the treasure. "This... This is a problem. A very big problem."
"Yes," Ye Feng agreed, his tone serious. "I already told you. We've incurred a loss of 100 silver. We should have charged Madam Wang and that fifth woman the full 100 silver, not 50. You made a fundamental business error, Boss Lin. You must be firmer in your negotiations."
Lin Qing finally turned to look at him. She was so stunned by Ye Feng's complete lack of understanding that her anger vanished. She just felt tired.
"Ye Feng," she said with the patience of a teacher trying to explain color to a blind man. "That's called a 'down payment.' Or a 'deposit'."
"De-po-sit?" Ye Feng repeated the word as if it were a strange, ancient incantation.
"Yes. They didn't pay only 50. They paid us 50 now... for the right to buy the 100-silver product later."
Ye Feng frowned. The gears in his immortal brain turned, trying to comprehend this twisted mortal logic. "So... they gave us money... for... a promise?"
"Exactly!"
"And they still owe you another 50 silver later when they collect the ointment?"
"Exactly!"
"So... we didn't lose 100 silver. We... we actually... gained 100 silver... for a product we haven't even made yet?"
Ye Feng's eyes suddenly widened, comprehension dawning on his face. It was the same expression he might have worn millennia ago when he first understood the rotation of a galaxy.
"Oh," he whispered. "OH! I understand! This... this is genius! This is alchemy of the highest order!"
He began to pace the shop, visibly excited. "This isn't just selling a product. This is selling a concept! It's selling hope! You took their mortal desire for beauty and converted it into tangible silver before you've even done any work! The Gods of Finance in the Celestial Realm never even thought of this! They only think of taxes! The Dao of Down Payments! This... this is profound! I must meditate on this!"
Lin Qing let him pace for a few seconds before she lost her patience again. "Stop meditating on the Dao of Down Payments and help me with this Physical Silver Problem! We can't just leave this here! We need to hide it!"
Ye Feng stopped, refocusing. "Ah. Right. A logistical problem."
"My money box..." Lin Qing pointed to the small wooden box under the counter. "...can only hold about 20 silver."
"We could give it to Xiong for safekeeping," Ye Feng suggested. "He could keep it in his trousers. No one would dare try to take it."
"And what happens when he needs to... use the latrine?" Lin Qing retorted. "No. We need somewhere safe. Somewhere only the two of us know about."
She made a decision. "Upstairs. Under my bed."
Ye Feng nodded. "A logical choice. An enemy would search under the mattress, but would not think to destroy the floor."
"How did you—ah, never mind." Lin Qing grabbed the largest empty cloth sacks she used for ginseng roots. "Start filling. Quickly. And don't drop any."
For the next ten minutes, they worked in tense silence. The only sound was the metallic clinking and shuffling of silver coins being poured into sacks. The weight was staggering. They finally had to divide it into three large bags.
Ye Feng lifted two of the bags effortlessly, as if they were cotton. Lin Qing struggled to lift the third one.
They hurried up the stairs to Lin Qing's small room on the second floor. It was simple, containing only a bed, a small table, and a wardrobe.
"Move the bed," Lin Qing ordered.
Ye Feng pushed the wooden frame with one finger, causing it to slide silently across the floor.
Lin Qing knelt and pried up a loose floorboard, revealing a small, dusty cavity beneath. Already inside was a tiny leather pouch containing 15 silver—her entire life savings.
It looked pathetic now.
They placed the three new, heavy sacks of silver into the hole. They barely fit. The small pouch of 15 silver looked like a pebble next to boulders.
Lin Qing replaced the floorboard. Ye Feng pushed the bed back into place.
Done.
The money was out of sight. But Lin Qing felt like it was burning a hole through the floor, sending a signal to the entire city.
She collapsed onto the edge of her bed, her hands shaking now that the adrenaline was gone. Ye Feng remained standing by the door, watching her. The small room felt crowded.
"Ye Feng," Lin Qing said quietly, staring at her own hands. "You... you were brilliant earlier. With... with that 'three-month' lie."
Ye Feng inclined his head slightly. "I was merely applying a principle I observed from you, Boss Lin. Scarcity. If something is easy to obtain, it is worthless. If something is rare, mortals will kill each other for it. It is the same principle in cultivation. A Thousand-Year Spirit Grass is more valuable than a thousand common weeds. I merely applied the Dao of Scarcity to your business."
"Well... your 'Dao of Scarcity' was genius," Lin Qing admitted. "But..."
She lifted her head, and her eyes were sharp. "You also nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Oh?"
"Master Jin! The Golden Dragon Syndicate! Ye Feng, what were you thinking?! You can't... you can't just casually tell our most dangerous secret to a group of gossiping noblewomen!"
Ye Feng looked genuinely baffled by her anger. "Why not?"
"Why not?!" Lin Qing leaped to her feet. "Because it's dangerous! They're the mafia! We don't want the whole city knowing we're in bed with them!"
"But it worked," Ye Feng pointed out with cold logic. "Before I mentioned Master Jin, Madam He thought you were a village merchant. She tried to bargain you down. After I mentioned Master Jin, she knew we had power behind us. She became afraid. And fear is a powerful sales motivator. She immediately stopped bargaining and started begging. Was that not a good outcome?"
Lin Qing opened her mouth. Then closed it again.
He was right. This idiot... this alien... was completely right. It was a terrifying, reckless, and devastatingly effective sales strategy.
She realized she wasn't arguing with a human. She was arguing with an entity that saw the world as a series of logical systems.
"Fine," she conceded, slumping. "Maybe it was... a good 'strategy.' But listen to me, Ye Feng." She poked a finger into his chest. "No more. No more mentioning Master Jin or the Syndicate to customers. Ever. That was a trump card, and we only get to use it once. Promise?"
Ye Feng nodded solemnly, like a child who had just been told not to play with a divine dagger. "I promise, Boss Lin. No more 'Dao of Mafia' in my sales."
Lin Qing let out a breath, the energy leaving her. "Good."
She sat back down on the bed. An awkward silence settled between them. They were no longer just boss and errand boy. They were no longer just reluctant friends. They were partners. Partners in crime, partners in business... partners in something entirely new.
"So..." Lin Qing said quietly. "We're rich now."
"Mundanely speaking, yes," Ye Feng said. "We possess 400 silver."
"We're not a 'tea shop' anymore, are we?" Lin Qing murmured, more to herself. "My grandmother... she wanted me to run a quiet place, selling cough medicine and ginger tea. Now... now I'm selling 100-silver ointment to officials' wives and hiding syndicate money under my bed."
"You are honoring her legacy," Ye Feng said.
Lin Qing looked up. "What?"
"Your grandmother wanted you to survive. She wanted you to succeed. The shop was her tool. You have merely... upgraded the tool. You have evolved. That is the Dao of Business Cultivation. You have broken through your bottleneck."
Lin Qing stared at him. Sometimes, between all the "Dao" nonsense and his utter incompetence, he said something truly profound.
"Maybe you're right," she said. "Maybe this is..."
TRING!
The bell downstairs rang. This time it was soft. Tentative. Someone had pushed open the closed door.
Both of them froze.
Lin Qing's eyes went wide with terror. "Who is that? I locked the door!"
Ye Feng put a finger to his lips. He moved silently to the bedroom door, listening.
There was the sound of careful footsteps on the floor below. Then a sniffing sound.
"What is that smell?" a raspy old man's voice drifted up. "It's... fragrant. But... that's unmistakably the scent of... Moonlight Grass? Impossible..."
Lin Qing and Ye Feng looked at each other.
"Shopkeep Liu," Lin Qing whispered, her face hardening. Her grandmother's main business rival.
Ye Feng nodded. He motioned for Lin Qing to stay quiet.
"The nerve of him, just walking in!" Lin Qing whispered angrily.
"He didn't just walk in," Ye Feng whispered back. "He was lured."
"Lured?"
"The scent of the Golden Ointment," Ye Feng explained. "To a common alchemist... I mean, an herbalist... the scent of such pure spiritual herbs is like blood to a shark. He couldn't help himself."
Thud... groan...
Another sound. From the warehouse.
Young Master Zhao was apparently waking up.
Lin Qing closed her eyes. Of course. Perfect.
Her business rival was snooping around downstairs. Her useless noble employee was waking up in the warehouse. And she was hiding in her bedroom with a pile of illicit silver.
Ye Feng looked at her, and for the first time, there was a faint, amused smile in his eyes. "The 'life experience' you promised me, Boss Lin," he whispered. "It is far more interesting than I ever imagined."
Lin Qing just glared at him. "Get your broom. We have a guest to sweep out. And trash to take out.