Chapter 402: Jumping Into the Mud

Sitting at the stone table, Feng Xinye tilted her head, her pale golden eyes glowing with genuine wonder. "Shopkeeper Bing, you know... your energy feels strangely familiar to me."

Bing Luoyan raised a slender brow, lightly tapping her fingers against the cold table. "Familiar? Princess, we only crossed paths at a distance during a royal banquet years back. How could my energy be familiar to you?"

"My eyes aren’t normal eyes!" Feng Xinye puffed her cheeks proudly. "With my Golden Seer Eyes, I don’t just look at someone’s cultivation realm. I see the traces of their lineage, the aura of their martial arts, and even faint spiritual remnants. Hmm... Your fiery aura reminds me of someone I once saw in the Imperial City."

" Besides, a Nine Transformations of Soul Realm expert doesn’t just sprout from the dirt like weeds! How could someone like you be completely unknown?"

Bing Luoyan gave a calm, effortless shrug, entirely dodging the core question. "The world is vast, Princess. Many people practice fire techniques. As I said, I am merely a common widow trying to run an honest shop to raise my daughter."

"A common widow?" Feng Xinye slapped the stone table in mock outrage. "Right! Just like that bastard Long Ming is merely a frail, helpless mortal scholar! Do you think I am three years old?"

Bing Luoyan couldn’t help but chuckle softly. She leaned back, a teasing glint flashing in her eyes. "Well, if we are speaking of frauds, you shouldn’t be grilling me! He is the real monster you should look into. A mortal who sleeps through work, swindles customers, and yet so many experts in this city fears him!"

"Hah! Exactly!" Feng Xinye nodded furiously, finding an immediate ally. "He is way too suspicious! Every time I think I have him figured out, he pulls out something even weirder. I am dying of curiosity!"

Right as the two ladies were happily conspiring against him, the wooden kitchen door swung open.

"If you two are done gossiping behind my back, clear the table!"

Long Ming walked out carrying a massive wooden tray, balancing heavy porcelain platters with casual ease. The moment the dishes landed on the table, an intoxicating wave of fragrance rolled across the entire courtyard.

Rich, aromatic steam danced in the evening air. There was a shimmering bowl of Four Fin Spirit Fish soup, its broth as milky and pure as molten jade.

Beside it sat a steaming clay pot of Ginger and Herb porridge cooked with three kinds of precious spirit grains. There was also a vibrant green platter of Longevity Herb Stir Fry glistening with light oil, and a sizzling plate of Fiery Millenium Pig Trotters braised to absolute crispy glazed perfection.

Feng Xinye’s mouth watered instantly. Her eyes went round as saucers as she took a deep sniff. "Heavens... what is this smell?! This aroma... it’s almost comparable to the Imperial Spirit Chefs in the palace!"

Bing Luoyan picked up a pair of bamboo chopsticks, her eyes flashing with obvious delight, though she quickly kept her haughty, indifferent expression. "Hmph. At least your hands are useful for something other than snoring on the recliner."

"Hey, respect the chef!" Long Ming pulled up a wooden stool and plopped down beside them, grabbing a bowl for himself. "A frail scholar slaved over a scorching stove just to feed two ungrateful nobles. If you keep insulting me, Shopkeeper Bing, I will start charging cooking fees on top of my deducted salary."

"Try it," Bing Luoyan smirked, picking up a piece of the braised trotters. "I will deduct next year’s wages too."

Feng Xinye shoved a spoonful of fish soup into her mouth, completely abandoning her royal manners. "Mmm! Shut up, both of you! If you fight, I’m eating everything alone!"

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As evening fell over the bustling avenues, Long Ming leaned against the doorframe, slowly sliding the wooden shutter boards into place.

Just as the last wooden bar clicked into its groove, the shadows along the alley shifted. A middle-aged man in blue robes embroidered with subtle water ripples stepped into the lantern light.

" Senior Long," Lan Jicheng whispered, stepping quickly onto the porch with hands cupped respectfully.

Long Ming turned his head, rubbing his shoulder with a lazy yawn. "Oh? Young Master Lan. Coming around at closing time? I don’t give night discounts, you know."

"Brother Long jokes," Lan Jicheng chuckled with genuine excitement. "I came directly to offer my heartfelt thanks! Senior Chen contacted me just an hour ago. The help you gave him was miraculous. Senior Chen was truly overjoyed to see Yuan’er stable!"

Long Ming raised his brows, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. "Ah. So that junior Brother Chen mentioned was your father, Patriarch Lan Xuming."

Lan Jicheng nodded seriously. "Senior Chen has a deep connection with our Azure Scale Clan. You saving his sonhas resolved a massive knot in his heart. The Azure Scale Clan will forever remember this debt of gratitude to Brother Long."

"No need to speak of debts," Long Ming waved his hand nonchalantly. "It was just a casual exchange. Speaking of which, how are things outside? I hear the city isn’t very peaceful these days."

Lan Jicheng’s cheerful demeanor faded into a heavy frown. "It is bad. The Ironback Crocodile Clan and the Thunderbird Clan have completely lost their minds. They are swinging blades at each other in the southern trade district. If this continues, it will spread to the docks."

Lan Jicheng took a step closer, his eyes pleading. " Senior Long, you have unfathomable means. If you could step in and mediate, perhaps we could stop this pointless bloodshed before it is too late."

Long Ming rolled his eyes, utterly exasperated. "Young Master Lan, do I look like the father of those two clans? Why should I jump into their family drama and tell them to stop swinging knives? Let them tire themselves out."

"Alas, Brother Long doesn’t know the full picture," Lan Jicheng sighed deeply. "Feng Jinyan is watching this like a hungry wolf. If the conflict escalates further, he will mobilize outside imperial soldiers into the city under the guise of restoring order. Once that happens, our local clans and the White Crane Hall will lose all control."

Long Ming stroked his chin, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought. A sly, mischievous grin gradually formed on his face.

" Hmm... Young Master Lan," Long Ming murmured, leaning in slightly. "Tell me... is there a really good thief in this city?"

Inside the noisy, smoke-filled hall of the Red Cloud Tavern, a young storyteller in an indigo vest stood atop a sturdy wine table, waving his folding fan with dramatic flair.

"So there he was!" the young man shouted, projecting his voice over the drunken cheers. " Lurking high upon the ancestral beast tower! The guards thought the Mountain Beast Clan’s vault was impenetrable! But who was he? He was the Windchase Thief!"

" With a mere flick of his sleeves, the wind answered his call! Before the clan elders could even finish their cups of warm wine, that Noble grade Beast-Bone Armor simply grew wings and vanished into the night breeze!"

"Good!"

"Tell us another one! What about the Golden Crow vault?" the rowdy patrons roared, slamming ceramic mugs on the wooden tables.

The young storyteller grinned, thoroughly basking in the crowd’s applause. He raised his fan to continue the tale, but as he turned, his gaze accidentally drifted toward the corner of the low table right beside him.

Sitting completely unnoticed amidst the spilled liquor was an exquisite square box.

It was carved from ancient pear wood, bordered by intricate silver veins that locked into dozens of moving jade pins. The young man blinked, trying to ignore it and resume his speech, but his eyes were practically glued to the object. His professional fingers began to itch like crazy.

"Ahem, well, that’s all for tonight, folks! Drink up!" he hastily cut the story short, hopping off the table amidst a chorus of angry groans.

Sliding into the corner booth, he picked up the small box, his eyes shining with pure fascination as his thumbs tested the latches.

"Good heavens," he whispered under his breath, tracing the shifting silver lines. "What an intricate little puzzle."