Chapter 49 — The Night-Blood Root

"I want to see Yun" Lin Fan said immediately, stepping around the desk toward the doorway. "Take me to the eastern sanctuary right now."

Crimson raised a dark-gloved hand, stepping smoothly into his path. "I advise against an immediate visit, Master. The children are physically exhausted, and several of them require delicate meridian stabilization from Elder Shen's disciples. A sudden visit at this hour will only trigger unnecessary panic. Morning light shall afford a far more orderly meeting."

Lin Fan stopped, his chest heaving with lingering tension. He looked at Crimson’s stoic, unreadable face and let out a long, slow breath. "Fine. At first light, we go." He paused, looking closely at his security chief. "How did you get them out so fast?"

Crimson adjusted his dark cuff, his tone as flat and unbothered as a quiet night breeze. "I located the subterranean holding chamber beneath the canal district, neutralized the immediate threat blocking the holding cells, and escorted the captives out through a secondary drainage shaft. It was an elementary rescue operation."

He left out every single gruesome detail. He did not describe the terrifying, bone-crunching interrogation he had conducted on the guard captain, the cold-blooded efficiency with which he had broken every limb of the guards who dared lay a hand on the boy, or the mountain of mangled bodies left behind in the dark, blood-slicked sewers. In Crimson's mind, those details were crude operational trash, entirely unworthy of cluttering his master's pristine, business-focused mind.

Lin Fan was far too relieved by the boy's safety to pry further into the mechanics of the rescue. He leaned back against the edge of the desk, rubbing his tired eyes.

In the corner of the room, Sect Master Lu slammed his thick fist onto the wooden table, making the porcelain teacups rattle violently. "Subterranean holding cells?! Shadow Viper assassins?! What kind of monstrous, rotten place is this capital?! Snatching innocent mortal children from alleyways like wild animals!"

Xiao Yu stood near the window, his head hanging low, his knuckles white as he clutched his leather ledger. "This is my fault..." Xiao Yu whispered, his voice cracking with heavy guilt. "I hired Yun without checking his background or realizing how dangerous these streets had become. If I hadn't sent him to the market, he would never have been targeted!"

Lin Fan walked over, placing a firm, steady hand on Xiao Yu’s shoulder.

"Stop that right now, Xiao Yu," Lin Fan said sternly, looking his head server directly in the eyes. "You hired Yun because he was a good kid who needed honest work to feed himself. You treated him with respect and gave him a chance. The fault lies entirely with the scum who put their filthy hands on a child, not with the person who offered him a meal. Don't you ever blame yourself for someone else's cruelty."

Xiao Yu swallowed hard, looking up at his shopkeeper before giving a quiet, resolute nod.

"To ensure everyone's safety," Lin Fan continued, turning to address the entire room, "no one breathes a single word about Yun’s rescue to anyone outside this room. Not to the market vendors, not to the other competition teams, and especially not to the imperial guards. We do not disclose the sanctuary's location under any circumstances."

He pulled out his financial ledger, jotting down a quick note with his brush. "Also, Xiao Yu, make sure Yun's daily wage of twenty copper coins continues to be paid directly to his sanctuary account every morning while he recovers."

Sect Master Lu blinked in surprise, scratching his flour-dusted chin. "Shopkeeper... the boy is resting in a medical sanctuary and won't be carrying crates for at least a week. You are still paying his daily salary?"

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Lin Fan looked up from his ledger with a deadpan expression. "Of course I am. A valued employee does not forfeit his sick leave just because he was illegally abducted by an assassin guild on his way to buy garlic. Workplace injury compensation is a basic standard of modern management."

Lu stared at Lin Fan for three seconds, then let out a deep, booming laugh that lightened the heavy room. "Workplace injury compensation... By the heavens, Shopkeeper, your rules are stranger than divine scriptures, yet nobler than any sect law!"

Lin Fan turned his attention back to the bloodstained iron token on the desk, his eyes narrowing into a sharp, analytical focus. "Crimson, you mentioned Night-Blood Root powder was used on Yun's basket."

"Indeed, Master," Crimson replied smoothly, stepping closer to the desk. "Concentrated Night-Blood Root extract possesses unique volatile properties. When refined into a fine powder, a microscopic trace inhaled or absorbed through the skin suppresses the respiratory system and induces instant, dreamless paralysis. Because it is fundamentally classified as an ordinary medicinal herb, criminal organizations utilize it to transport captives through city gates without triggering spiritual array alarms."

Lin Fan remembered the massive barrels of dark-red roots they had seen at the market stalls earlier that afternoon, along with the porter's offhand remark about dark-of-night deliveries to the old canal warehouses.

"It's a supply chain operation," Lin Fan muttered, his mind connecting the commercial dots. "Whoever is buying barrels of Night-Blood Root from the central market is using it to paralyze and transport people across the city in bulk. If we follow the bulk orders from the wholesale merchants, we can find the main distribution hub."

A fierce impulse flared in Lin Fan's chest to drop everything, march back to the central market, and grill every herb vendor until he found the core buyer.

But then he looked at the calendar scroll hanging on the wall.

The second major stage of the Great Culinary and Hospitality Festival—the Hospitality Trial—was scheduled to commence in less than twelve hours. They had already paid their registration fees, reserved their competition kitchen, and locked in their logistical schedules.

If Lin Fan abandoned the trial now to play private investigator, Lin's Inn would be automatically disqualified. They would lose their shot at the Imperial Hospitality License, forfeit the ten thousand Hospitality Points, and trigger the System's catastrophic profit tax penalty.

Lin Fan closed his eyes, taking a deep, calculated breath.

"We finish the competition first," Lin Fan declared firmly, opening his eyes with absolute clarity. "Our primary mission in this city is to win the Imperial License and establish our branch. We do not let these shadow criminals ruin our business schedule or force us into reckless mistakes."

He looked directly at Crimson. "Crimson, monitor the sanctuary from afar. If you detect any immediate, active threat to Yun or the other rescued children, alert me instantly. Otherwise, keep your eyes open and gather intelligence quietly while we execute tomorrow's hospitality trial."

Crimson bowed his head smoothly, his dark sleeves falling neatly over his wrists. "Of course, Master. Your operational parameters shall be strictly maintained."

Yet behind his bowing head, Crimson's red eyes gleamed with an icy, silent promises that he had no intention of sharing with his peaceful shopkeeper.

An hour later, the room fell quiet as Sect Master Lu, Xiao Yu, and the rest of the staff retired to their chambers to catch whatever little sleep remained before dawn.

The candles flickered low, casting long, dancing shadows across the wooden walls.

Lin Fan had also returned to his bedroom, leaving the central desk bathed in the dim silver glow of the moonlight pouring through the window shutters.

A faint, spectral shadow detached itself from the wall. Crimson materialized beside the desk, completely silent.

He reached down with two dark-gloved fingers, picking up the bloodstained Shadow Viper token. He held it up to the moonlight, watching the silver rays glint off the jagged emblem of the bleeding viper and the shattered skull.

Crimson’s stoic, unreadable face slowly shifted. A terrifying, ancient smile—cold, razor-sharp, and utterly devoid of human warmth—curved across his lips.

He remembered the dying words gurgled by the Shadow Viper captain down in the wet, dark sewer before his skull was crushed into paste: “You... you fool... our grand master serves a pillar of the Imperial Court... You cannot touch us...”

"An Imperial Court client..." Crimson murmured into the dark, quiet room, his voice sounding like two grinding mountain stones. "How incredibly careless of them to leave witnesses alive."

He squeezed his hand slightly.

Crack.

The heavy, enchanted iron token crumbled into fine black dust, sifting through his dark-gloved fingers and scattering onto the wooden floorboards like worthless ash.