Reunion

Su Qing had already decided what to redeem.

The *Gale* sword technique was a must—its heavy sword style perfectly suited her.

The full set of seven forms required 1,500 contribution points.

She also wanted a storage container—not the low-tier storage bags she had, but a high-tier one that could hold living things and preserve freshness.

Such an artifact was pricey, costing 6,000 contribution points.

Su Qing winced.

In other people’s transmigration stories, storage rings with preservation functions came standard, often with a white-bearded grandpa for guidance. Now, she had to spend a quarter of her points for one.

Totaling 7,500 points, she decided not to burn through her 20,000 all at once.

She’d redeem at Wuya Pavilion first, holding the rest to snag high-tier spirit ore if a deal popped up.

At Wuya Pavilion, the crowd was overwhelming, filling the first-floor hall with a cacophony like a bustling market.

Most students weren’t as lucky as Su Qing, whose main quest points were directly credited. They came to trade items for points.

Before entering the secret realm, Sword Sect issued a task list detailing points for gathering spirit plants, herbs, or beast materials.

Students completed these, brought their haul to Wuya Pavilion, exchanged for points, then redeemed techniques, artifacts, or inheritances.

A two-step process.

Su Qing’s sharp mind caught the inevitable transaction losses—losses meant profit margins.

A light screen above the hall tallied each school’s points.

Surprisingly, the Body School led—an anomaly.

Body cultivators usually consumed their finds immediately, unable to resist until returning to Sword Sect.

Thanks to Su Qing, Tang Yue Ling, and Tian Ning’s main quest completion, Body School’s points soared.

As Su Qing queued, whispers followed. “That’s her—the Dragon Boat Secret Realm woman, Sword Sect’s gutsiest!”

“She looks kind, not like someone who punched a hole through a giant fish’s stomach.”

“Never judge a body cultivator by their face—check their muscles! Her robes hide it, but I bet she’s all brawn. My senior says Body School folks play weak but can crush us both!”

“Why no heavy sword? After her Red Sun Sect fight, everyone’s copying her, saying heavy swords are a sword cultivator’s essence. The armory shop owner’s grinning ear to ear!”

Su Qing pretended not to hear.

Blame Ling Xiaorui for shouting nonsense, ruining her reputation.

True, she could knock out those gossiping alchemists with one punch, but she was kind and warm-hearted. She wouldn’t.

To shake the awkwardness, Su Qing scanned the hall. Most students looked travel-worn.

Those with storage bags kept items hidden for dignity, revealing them only at exchange.
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But poorer students, or those with full bags, carried their haul openly—demon chickens in one hand, demon ducks in the other—looking disheveled.

Yet this had perks. If another student spotted their goods and offered a good price, they’d trade on the spot, bypassing Sword Sect’s costly exchange.

“Fourth-tier whirlwind demon chicken feathers? Nice. Trade for talismans?”

“Fourth-tier mid-grade talismans only—Thunder God or Rejuvenation.”

“Deal. Thunder God talisman. Hand over hand.”

They swapped swiftly under onlookers’ eyes, one stroking the feathers, the other inspecting the talisman, both satisfied.

Envious students commented, “One feather’s worth eight points, but a Thunder God talisman’s ten.”

“Yet redeeming a feather with points costs fourteen.”

“Fair trade.”

Su Qing caught on: Sword Sect bought low, sold high, pocketing the difference. No wonder students cursed the rule-maker as a dog.

Sure enough, she overheard, “Wang Quan, that dog, always scheming to line his pockets! Sword Sect doesn’t need Scorching Erosion Grass, so they lowball it?”

“Why bother with points? I’d get more spirit stones outside!”

Still fuming, he added, “Dog thief, Wang Quan dog thief!”

A sect leader openly cursed by students, with no defenders, was a marvel. How did he manage? Leading a sect was tough.

Good thing she wasn’t leader, or she’d be the one cursed.

Sympathizing, Su Qing scanned the task list for items Sword Sect didn’t need. When her turn came, she tested the clerk.

“How many points for Purple Spirit Mushroom?”

“Eight.”

“It’s a fourth-tier mid-grade plant. Sells for fifteen spirit stones outside!”

She was stunned. No wonder everyone cursed the leader.

The clerk, used to this, mentally cursed Wang Quan too. “I know it’s worth more outside, but our herb fields mass-produce it. Not scarce, so eight points. Sell elsewhere if you want.”

Su Qing nodded, understanding.

Sighing, she said, “Fine, I’ll just redeem the *Gale* sword technique.”

The clerk deducted 1,500 points from her disciple tablet, handing her a jade slip as proof. “Done.”

After half a day’s wait, she only got the sword technique, not the storage bag.

Not because she couldn’t afford it—she wanted to get rich!

With plenty of points, she’d buy students’ plants and beast hides at low prices, then sell them for spirit stones outside. Easy money.

Why spend 6,000 points on a storage bag when spirit stones could buy one?

Only a dog like the sect leader would design this system. He’d take the curses; she’d take the profits.

Su Qing bided her time. It wasn’t peak exchange season yet—students were holding their goods, wary. Once they realized the sect leader was a dog and exchanges were lowballed, she’d step in.

Offering one point more per item, she’d outdo the leader in fairness.

Rested and done with her tasks, Su Qing planned to visit Tianque City’s Honey Spirit Tea shop.

Three years later, how was it faring?

Two weeks later, she reached Qi Refining Layer Six effortlessly, grabbed her Man Qing Sword, and headed down the mountain leisurely.

As Honey Spirit Tea’s founder, she drank so much during tastings she’d nearly vomit, avoiding tea otherwise. But after three years, she missed it.

East Market was closer, so she went there first.

Jia Song managed the shop, earning a fixed salary plus ten percent of profits. Her generous terms ensured his loyalty.

Su Qing touched the fish oil in her storage bag, traded from another student—a secret realm specialty for treating osteoporosis.

Maybe it’d help Jia Song grow taller, his lifelong sore spot.

At the Honey Spirit Tea shop, she was stunned.

It had grown massively. Once a single storefront, it now merged three—one for takeout, two forming a bright, airy hall with large windows, serving snacks and drinks. Sitting in cost more than takeout.

When she left, it was Jia Song and two helpers. Now, she spotted eight or nine, excluding kitchen staff.

To expand so much in three years, business must be booming. The hall was nearly full, with a line at the counter.

All seemed well until Su Qing entered.

Initially, the staff treated her as a customer, smiling warmly.

But when she asked for Jia Song, their faces changed. A clerk fetched the manager.

The manager, a round-faced man with narrow eyes, resembled a cracked boiled egg.

His sharp gaze sized her up. “What brings you to my shop?”

*My* shop?
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Su Qing’s gut sank. Raising a brow, she said, “Can’t I visit my own shop?”

“You jest,” he replied. “This shop’s been Song Family’s for a year. Don’t believe me? Fetch the permit and deed.”

A clerk rushed back with the deed, pointing to a bold “Song” character. “See? Song Family’s property!”

The manager nodded. “Exactly. It was a fair deal. The deed’s clear—this shop’s Song Family’s, nothing to do with ‘Jia Song’ or you.”

Su Qing didn’t argue, studying the deed twice. It was legitimate, city-issued, with proper seals and signatures, save for her name as the original owner.

Speechless, she realized she’d have to buy tea in her own shop after three years.

The manager, rubbing salt in, presented a menu. “Care to drink something?”

Unfazed, Su Qing smiled. “Since I’m here, I’ll have a cup.”

She counted out twelve spirit seeds, inwardly cursing: *Song Family, how bold.*

They dominated the herb and pill trade, with tea as a minor sideline.

Her shop sourced materials through the Li Family from the Song Family.

Now, they’d hijacked her shop, likely seeing bigger profits as suppliers. They’d pulled strings to seize it.

Where was Jia Song? Was he okay, or suffering?

If East Market was like this, West Market was likely worse.

As suppliers, the Song Family could choke their stock, crippling the shop.

Sighing, Su Qing thought: money could be re-earned, as long as her people were safe. How were Jiang Shuang, Li Dama, and Xiao Ya doing?

Taking a sip, she inwardly cursed the Song Family again.

The tea was cheap, low-quality leaves drowned in sugar, yet sold under Honey Spirit Tea’s name, tarnishing her brand.

Leaving Song’s Honey Spirit Tea, the manager summoned a clerk. “Send a letter to the Song Family. Report this exactly.”

Shaking his head, he thought: *That woman’s no pushover. Trouble’s coming.*

…

At West Market’s Honey Spirit Tea, Jia Song was repenting, trimming mountain berries with a drooping face. “I was so foolish.”

“I knew to watch the Chen Family—they’re rivals. But the Song Family backstabbing us? We bought so much from them through the Li Family. Why steal our business?”

He dumped flour water, refilling with fresh.

Muttering, “I’m talented. In a year, I made our shop thrive. Another half-year, I merged two more shops, making us the street’s grandest. But I was reckless, expanding too fast, leaking wealth, letting the Song Family target us.”

He’d repeated this countless times. The first, second, even tenth time, Jiang Shuang and Li Dama comforted him: “It’s not all your fault. The Song Family’s powerful in Tianque City, scheming against you. It’s normal you couldn’t guard against them.”

By the eleventh, they ignored him.

West Market life was tough; everyone had tasks, no time for his stale complaints.

Even Li Xiao Ya—now Li Ming’en since starting school—ignored him. At nine, she was the shop’s most diligent helper, assisting after classes.

She hopped off her chair, hauled a crate of berries, and slammed it before Jia Song, signaling: *Shut up and work.*

Originally Xiao Ya, she’d changed her name at six. Now nine, she was indispensable.

When even she didn’t respond, Jia Song felt deflated. Post-realm, he grew tenser, dreading telling Su Qing he’d lost the shop.

Changing topics, he said, “Why isn’t the boss back? It’s been half a month since the realm closed. Could she…”

Before finishing, Li Ming’en stopped, glaring. “Shut up! Don’t badmouth Sister Su!”

Jia Song protested, “Xiao Ya, that’s unfair. I’m worried, not slandering. I’m wronged!”

He anxiously awaited Su Qing’s return, hoping she’d crush the Song Family and reclaim everything.

Li Ming’en didn’t care, insisting, “No bad words! Sister Su will return safely!”

Her drunken father was untouchable in their village, but Sister Su floored him in one move. She was Li Ming’en’s hero, sure to return.

Jia Song gave up, not arguing with a kid or daring to slight her idol. “Fine, she’ll be back safe.”

As they spoke, the shop door opened.

A young woman in a cyan robe entered, bright-eyed, upright, radiating kindness.

“I’m looking for Jiang Shuang,” she said.

Li Ming’en stared, then covered her face, shrieking!

She toppled her chair, racing to the back. “Sister Jiang Shuang!”

Jia Song’s face twitched at the familiar figure. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, letting out a shriek.

Su Qing, exasperated, said, “You’re screaming and covering your face?”

She hadn’t even covered her ears.

Jia Song wailed, “I’m too ashamed to face you!”

…

Soon, West Market’s Honey Spirit Tea hung a “Closed” sign.

Inside, Jiang Shuang, Li Dama, and Jia Song sat. Two new helpers slipped to the kitchen.

Li Ming’en dragged a chair for Su Qing, even bringing a hot tea.

Only Su Qing got one.

As she sat, thanking her, Li Ming’en squealed again, bolting to the kitchen.

Li Dama, puzzled, explained, “Why’s she so shy? She mentions you three times a day, but now hides?”

Su Qing smiled, sipping tea. “It’s fine. Let kids be kids.”

Her gaze was soft, her mood light.

But setting down the tea, her eyes sharpened. “Tell me about the Song Family.”

Jia Song, frustrated yet deflated, recounted the ordeal, with Jiang Shuang adding details.

It matched Su Qing’s suspicions. Jia Song’s talent grew East Market’s shop rapidly, merging two more shops in a year and a half, outshining even the Chen Family.

But his swift rise drew the Song Family’s eye. After learning the shop’s methods and recipes, they bribed deed officials to seize it.

Jia Song tried appealing to the city lord’s manor, but the Song Family, rooted in Tianque City for centuries, had connections too deep for newcomers to challenge.

Jiang Shuang considered opening a new shop, but the Song Family cut their supply, colluding with other tea merchants to block them.

Honey Spirit Tea nearly collapsed.

“But business looks good here,” Su Qing noted. “Doesn’t seem short on stock.”

“Lucky break!” Jiang Shuang clutched her chest. “We connected with Shu City merchants. They supply us now, beyond the Song Family’s reach. Thanks to them, we survived. They’ve had it rough too—it’s mutual support.”

Su Qing agreed. “We owe them. I’ll thank them properly.”

Jiang Shuang checked the time. “It’s their monthly delivery day. You can meet them now.”

Speak of the devil.

As she spoke, a voice called outside, “Closed? Miss Jiang, we’re here with the delivery. Can we come in?”

“No problem, come in,” Jiang Shuang replied.

The door opened, revealing a woman in her twenties, dressed elegantly with gold and silver, her lips bright red, exuding vitality.

Su Qing shot to her feet.

She wanted to scream but couldn’t. Her chair fell, unnoticed.

The woman’s eyes widened, and they shouted in unison:

“Su Qing!”

“Xing’er!”
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