Seizing the Initiative

Six years had passed since their parting at the disciple selection.

Time had flown, and the fourteen-year-old girl Su Qing remembered was now twenty.

Su Qing vividly recalled Zhu Xing’er—delicate yet brimming with courage, a frail fledgling needing her and Xiu Fu’s care.

Now, seeing her, Zhu Xing’er had grown into a woman. Taller, her face sharper, her demeanor carried a brisk vitality. Even without cultivation, she shone no less brightly than Su Qing.

Clearly, Zhu Xing’er had found her true path.

Their reunion was electric. Beyond shouting each other’s names, words failed them, leaving Jiang Shuang, Jia Song, and others exchanging puzzled looks.

Were the shop’s boss and this woman old friends?

Their bond seemed deep.

As the merchant caravan arrived, five men hauled in crates of tea and honey.

Zhu Xing’er directed them, “To the inner room. Honey below, tea on top—don’t crush it. If Miss Jiang needs help, lend a hand. Don’t just stand there slacking.”

Her orders were clear, warm yet firm.

The caravan crew respected her, chuckling, “No way we’d slack.” “Miss Jiang, just say the word.”

Jiang Shuang, sizing up the situation, decided to give Su Qing and Zhu Xing’er space. “Jia Song, Li Dama, come help.”

Three left, leaving Su Qing and Zhu Xing’er alone.

Calming her excitement, Su Qing studied Zhu Xing’er, sighing, “Xing’er, I almost didn’t recognize you. You’re completely different.”

Zhu Xing’er’s eyes sparkled as she smiled. “That means I didn’t turn out too bad. But you—I nearly didn’t recognize you either. Taller, sharper, with an immortal’s air.”

“Don’t tease,” Su Qing rubbed her face. “Immortal’s air? I don’t feel any different.”

“Only you’d think that,” Zhu Xing’er shook her head helplessly. “I never imagined Honey Spirit Tea was yours. Our meeting here must be fate.”

Su Qing hesitated, then asked, “Are you married?”

Her question carried an unintended edge, as if the fourteen-year-old Xing’er still lingered in her mind.

Zhu Xing’er glanced at her, touching her hair bun, then burst out laughing.

“No way! My family moved to Shu City soon after I left. I found a good match there, married the next year, and life’s been decent. But my husband was short-lived—died of illness the year after, leaving me to fend for myself.”

Seeing Su Qing’s heartache, Zhu Xing’er laughed harder. “Kidding! That’s just my cover story. My mother’s been pushing for a son-in-law, but I’m not married. If I didn’t say that and dress like this, who’d do business with an unmarried woman?”

Her tone held no anger, only faint disdain.

Su Qing exhaled, relieved but concerned. “Does your caravan know?”

“Of course,” Zhu Xing’er said proudly. “They’ve been with me long enough to know there’s money and benefits following me. They respect me.”

Still, she felt a pang of dissatisfaction. When she parted with Su Qing, she’d vowed to make something of herself, no less than an immortal.

Seeing Su Qing now was joyful, but her setup felt inadequate to showcase six years’ achievements.

“You should see my caravan,” Zhu Xing’er said, pride in her brows. “We’re at the Come Again Inn. My team’s twenty strong—half men, half women, all sharp and quick. We’ve got six camel beasts, two pregnant females due next spring. By next year, we’ll have eight, ready to haul anything.”

Su Qing stood instantly. “Let’s go see now.”

Her warm, familiar tone was the same big-sister Su Qing from years ago. Zhu Xing’er beamed—six years, and no distance had grown between them. She knew the rarity of such a bond.

Barely settled, she eagerly followed Zhu Xing’er out.

Jia Song, stunned, muttered, “We haven’t even planned how to crush the Song Family!”

Jiang Shuang was optimistic. “With them scheming together, they’ll figure it out.”

…

At the Come Again Inn, Zhu Xing’er led the way.

Familiar workers greeted her warmly, and Su Qing noted her ease with them.

Gone were Zhu Xing’er’s playful jests. She shared her real journey.

After returning home, her mother wept with relief, her father raised a hand to discipline her but couldn’t—his only daughter, spoiled from birth.

Her family stopped pushing marriage, fearing their bold, reckless girl might run off again.

Zhu Xing’er spun a tale: an immortal had read her fate, declaring her destined for wealth, not cultivation. Early marriage would ruin her fortune.

Her story stunned the locals, and with no one to contradict, they let her spin it.

Soon, Shu City merchants relocated her family there, coincidentally next to Xiu Fu’s.

Zhu Xing’er’s voice dipped with regret. “Xiu Fu sent a letter, but you were in the secret realm, so I couldn’t deliver it. I’ll bring it next time.”

“She didn’t write much at first—moving to Shu City was costly, no spare cash for letters. Big cities eat money. I started a stall, earned enough to send one, but by then, Xiu Fu was gone.”

She dropped a bombshell. “She followed her teacher to the beast tide frontline.”

Su Qing gasped. “The frontline? That’s dangerous!”

“It is,” Zhu Xing’er admitted, pained but understanding. “Injuries are constant, and healers are scarce. They’re desperate for medics. She insisted on going—we couldn’t stop her. Everyone has their path. Is cultivation or trading any less risky?” She added, “Xiu Fu joined a clinic in Shu City. She’s a natural healer, far more welcomed than us money-grubbers.”

Seeing Zhu Xing’er’s vibrant pride, Su Qing knew she loved her work, far from just “grubbing money.”

Starting with a stall, Zhu Xing’er convinced her parents to open an inn. Shu City, a hub to nearby cities, guaranteed profit. With the secret realm boosting traffic, she’d cash in.

Running the inn, she learned from traders: the thirty-six cities under Sword Sect produced unique goods. Moving common items from one city to another where they were scarce was lucrative.

She formed a caravan. With family finances in her grip, no one could stop her. She bought two cheap, drooling camel beasts and started small.

At first, her five-person team with two shabby beasts was a joke.

But in two years, it grew to twenty people and six beasts—not massive, but hers, built from scratch.

She was proud.

Su Qing, unfamiliar with trading or healing, marveled at Zhu Xing’er’s tales. The world was vast—not just cultivation but other vibrant paths, reflected in her friend’s eyes, shared with her.

Overwhelmed with pride, Su Qing could only say, “So good, really good.”

Zhu Xing’er teased, “You’ve only heard my story. Your letters stopped after three years. What happened these last three? Spill.”

Cultivation slowed aging. Zhu Xing’er had grown from a tender leaf to a sturdy tree.

Su Qing was taller, stronger, her features bolder, but her face hadn’t changed much—just leaner, sharper.

Zhu Xing’er was curious about her world, the path she’d once forsaken.

Su Qing shared her Dragon Boat Secret Realm tales: picky Man Qing Sword, refined boars, gentle yet toxic jellyfish swarms, a jerky-extorting turtle, coconut-selling monkeys, and Xiao’e, Zhang Wenhui, and Falling Spring Island’s story. She spoke vaguely to avoid endangering Zhu Xing’er.

Turning three years into stories lightened her heart.

She even smiled faintly at Qiu Yange’s ending.
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Zhu Xing’er’s eyes glistened. After a pause, she said, “You’ve had it rough too.”

Fuming, “Good people always have it rough!”

They reached the camel beast pens.

Su Qing saw their resemblance to modern camels, with humps, gentle and load-bearing.

Zhu Xing’er explained they were mortal beasts, not spirit ones. She’d get spirit beasts later for prestige.

The inn’s beasts crowded a feeding trough, sorted by temperament into pens. Zhu Xing’er spotted hers instantly.

She scooped extra beans for her two drooling, cross-eyed beasts. “These idiots never grab enough food.”

Further along, she added water and feed for two pregnant females in a separate pen, their bellies round.

“Come see,” she called.

Su Qing recalled Xing’er’s old fastidiousness—shivering at night, refusing to cuddle with her and Xiu Fu for warmth without a bath. Now, she dove into a manure-filled pen without hesitation.

Su Qing crouched in, too. The beasts, curious but unafraid with their owner near, blinked long white lashes at her. She offered feed, and one ate, its rough tongue warm and wet. Stroking its fur, she marveled at its docile nature.

Zhu Xing’er, tucking her skirt, squatted by a beast’s belly, inspecting, then beckoned Su Qing.

“Feel here.”

Su Qing placed her hand beside Zhu Xing’er’s. After a quiet moment, a stir came beneath the warm fur.

Fetal movement.

Feeling life this way was both daunting and sacred for Su Qing.

In the dim pen, Zhu Xing’er’s eyes shone. “This is my hope.”

Over lunch in the inn’s hall—noodles and sides—they got to business.

Zhu Xing’er had a problem. Tianque City, nearest Sword Sect and a trade hub, was the most prosperous of the thirty-six cities. Everyone wanted in, including her.

But its centuries-old chamber of commerce restricted trade to registered merchants. Outsiders faced steep taxes and market barriers, barely breaking even.

Zhu Xing’er skirted the chamber, trading with small merchants. It kept her afloat, but she had a team and six—soon eight—beasts to feed, plus wages and meals. Small deals weren’t enough for Tianque City.

Joining the chamber was too costly for her small caravan, leaving her stuck.

Su Qing bit into a greasy fried egg, swallowing it whole.

“What’s your main trade here?” she asked.

Zhu Xing’er peeled garlic—noodles without it lost half their flavor.

“Tianque City, backed by Sword Sect, is rich in herbs, some unique. I’d buy here and sell in Yinlan City, north of Shu City, near the beast tide where Xiu Fu’s helping. It’s dangerous, with many injured, so herbs are scarce.”

Su Qing nodded. “Makes sense. More injuries, more need for healers and herbs.”

“Exactly,” Zhu Xing’er said, ignoring her noodles. “But Yinlan City’s beast tide means beast hides, cores, blood, and bones are cheap there. I’d sell those back here or nearby—hot commodities.”

True enough. Sword Sect, atop Sword Mountain, banned hunting in its ranges. Tianque City’s beast materials came from outside.

Others saw the opportunity, but the route was riskier, less traveled, leaving market gaps for Zhu Xing’er to exploit.

Su Qing knew her friend’s boldness—running away at fourteen proved it.

Her friends were daring, and though she worried, she was proud.

Most of Tianque City’s herb merchants sourced from Sword Sect.
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And the Song Family dominated herbs and pills.
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Su Qing snatched a peeled garlic clove from Zhu Xing’er, biting it, eyes squinting from the spice. “If you need herbs, I have a way. But fair warning—it might draw retaliation from Tianque City’s big herb families.”

“You’ve got a way?” Zhu Xing’er’s eyes lit up, pushing her garlic over.

Retaliation didn’t scare her. As long as it wasn’t lethal, she’d take a beating and move on. She’d eyed Tianque City’s riches too long.

She’d clawed her way to a foothold through small merchants. Now, she craved a seat at the table. Whether she’d feast or get tossed out was a later problem.

Seeing Zhu Xing’er’s fearless ambition, Su Qing’s caution faded. She wasn’t one to hesitate either.

“Done,” Su Qing declared. “Give me a list of urgently needed herbs and the most profitable ones. I’ll handle it.”

She estimated, “A month, tops.”

…

Three weeks later, at Clear Spring Pavilion.

The pavilion was the sect leader’s office, where Wang Quan handled affairs. Sometimes, in a good mood, he’d summon unlucky elders, clerks, or students for “heart-to-heart” talks.

No one spared him their mental curses, but he called it student engagement.

This time, he summoned Liu, Wuya Pavilion’s point-exchange clerk.

Liu cursed him inwardly, then entered politely, sitting with feigned respect.

Wang Quan studied a list, sighing dramatically—soft, refined, yet infuriating, tempting Liu to punch him.

He slid the list to her, questioning, “Liu, these numbers are off. Past years’ herb exchanges far exceeded this.”

Liu forced a smile. “Maybe this year’s exchange rates are too low. Students are selling for spirit stones instead.”

Wang Quan didn’t buy it. “Rates were always low. Didn’t students trade for Wuya Pavilion’s resources anyway? I just got a few extra curses.”

Liu gritted her teeth: *You know that?*

And it wasn’t just him—she got cursed daily too!

She felt wronged, suffering for his poor leadership.

“Why can’t I sell these outside for more? Another revenue stream lost. Sword cultivators are broke, always stirring trouble, and our finances have been in the red for a century.”

Covering his face with his sleeve, Wang Quan coughed, cheeks red. “Cough, cough.”

“Sword Sect’s a mess under me. I’m not worth pity.”

“I’ve no face to meet my teacher…”
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Invoking Xiaoyao Immortal silenced Liu. No one in Sword Sect could resist her legacy, dead or alive.

And the sect’s finances were a known mess. Wang Quan wasn’t just playing pitiful. Liu sighed, “If you’ve got time, check the secondhand market. Someone’s set up a stall exchanging points.”

Wang Quan’s eyes gleamed, knowing who it was.

No one else had claimed the realm’s biggest point haul.

He stopped coughing, lowered his sleeve, and smiled weakly. “I see. Thanks, Liu. I’ll check it out. No need to see you off.”

…

Su Qing’s business was booming.

Her face ached from smiling.

The sect leader just collected points, but students had more to consider. Points were points—why not trade with Su Qing, who offered better rates?

She only raised each item by one point—not saintly, but better than the dog-like leader.

So, students bypassed Wuya Pavilion to trade with her.

With ample points, plus Tian Ning and Tang Yue Ling offering theirs if needed, Su Qing had no shortage. Their Dragon Boat points were massive.

In three weeks, she gathered Zhu Xing’er’s herbs, plus 300 pounds of second-tier top-grade Qintai Ore and 100 pounds of third-tier low-grade White Ash Ore for Man Qing Sword.

The sword glowed with satisfaction.

That day, she set up her stall as usual, ready to wrap up. A white-robed young man, fanning himself, strolled over.

He read her sign aloud in a clear voice, “Scorching Erosion Grass, five points. Sixfold Purple Fern, six points… Purple Spirit Mushroom, nine points…”

“One point more per item?”

Sighing approvingly, he said, “Thrifty. Worthy of my student.”

Su Qing, “…Greetings, Sect Leader.”

Seizing the initiative, she said, “By Xiaoyao Immortal, I’m not stealing Sword Sect’s business. My shop was taken, and I’m struggling, so I resorted to this!”

“It’s the Tianque City Song Family’s doing. Sect Leader, you must uphold justice!”