Seven days passed in a productive, furious blur. Lin Feng refined two full batches of The Stable Hand's Polish from the endless supply of spiritual waste, pushing the total stock to ten clay pots. He also continued his aggressive nighttime cultivation, using the harvested spiritual weeds to create the high-grade Foundation Pills.
By the morning of the delivery, Lin Feng had achieved Foundation Establishment Level Six. The growth rate was shocking, even to him, confirming the Primordial Chaos Art's true, terrifying potential. He was now comfortably in the middle stage of Foundation Establishment—a feat that should have taken him thirty years.
The biggest change, however, was his newly acquired official travel document. Han Yue, utilizing her administrative power (and the hefty profits from the polish), had secured a temporary Outer Supply Transport Token for the "Lead Stable Sanitation Specialist."
Lin Feng met Han Yue outside the administrative hut, wearing his freshly patched—but still incredibly humble—grey robes. He carried the ten pots of polish sealed in a wicker basket, looking like a simple farmer bringing eggs to market.
Han Yue, wearing her neat green Outer Disciple robes, looked anxious and slightly radiant. The business was proving highly lucrative and she was enjoying the sudden, respectful attention from her peers.
"Lin Feng, you look… remarkably well for a sanitation specialist," she noted, giving him a quick, comprehensive scan.
"The spiritual air outside the stables is purifying," he lied smoothly, letting his tired, charming smile take over. "Or perhaps it's the invigorating thought of escaping Head Servant Cao for the day."
"He is convinced you have signed a spiritual pact with a minor Dirt Deity," Han Yue confided, leaning closer and lowering her voice. "He's terrified to challenge you directly now."
She then grew serious. "Now, listen. The delivery point is the Sect Market District, near the lower trading docks. That is where Qian Li is waiting for the tribute. You are only allowed to deliver the goods to me, accept the token for next month, and leave. Do not linger. Do not talk to anyone but me."
"And the tribute for our silent partner?" Lin Feng asked, his eyes darkening slightly at the mention of Liu Kai's lackey.
Han Yue pulled out a small, heavy pouch tied with a red string. "The ten Spirit Stones. It pains me to hand them over, but we need the quiet protection for now. This tribute is essentially buying us a clean record with the Inner Peak administrators that Liu Kai influences."
Lin Feng took the pouch. He didn't weigh the stones; he weighed the humiliation. A tithe paid to a crippled rival.
"I understand the strategy," he said, tucking the pouch securely into an inner pocket. "Don't worry, Han Yue. I will be your humble errand boy today, nothing more."
The Sect Market District was a vibrant, chaotic explosion of sights and sounds. It was the first time Lin Feng had stepped foot outside the Mortal Estate walls in a decade.
The air was thick with mixed spiritual pressure—mostly low-level Qi Condensation, but occasionally pierced by the solid aura of a veteran Foundation Establishment expert. Stall vendors shouted prices for low-grade spirit talismans, rare metal scraps, and cheap, ineffective pills.
Han Yue led him quickly through the throng, her attention focused on the delivery.
"The most important thing for us to secure today is information," Lin Feng whispered to her as they navigated a tight crowd of bargaining disciples. "We are making too much money too fast. Our business will soon attract a real, high-level player—an Inner Disciple with actual political clout, not just a bully like Liu Kai. I need to know where the power lies in the Outer Market."
"The true power is held by the Yan Family Clan," Han Yue replied, keeping her voice low. "They own the largest alchemy and cultivation resource stalls. Their representative, Yan Xia, is a Foundation Establishment Level Eight master. She controls the pricing of all similar products."
Lin Feng's eyes narrowed, a cold thrill running through him. Level Eight. That was only two levels above him, a gap he could close in a month.
They reached the designated spot: a side alley near a large, dilapidated weapons stall.
Qian Li was waiting, looking impatient and overly smug. He was flanked by two lower-level cronies.
"The stable hand has arrived," Qian Li announced loudly, drawing the attention of passersby. "Show some respect, Han Yue. Your little mud pie is late."
Han Yue stiffened but kept her administrative composure. "We are timely, Disciple Qian. The supply is here."
Qian Li ignored her, focusing his contempt entirely on Lin Feng. "Give me the Spirit Stones, waste. And don't spill any dirt on my shoes."
Lin Feng stepped forward. He reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out the red pouch of Spirit Stones. He held it out to Qian Li, making sure his hand shook slightly with feigned fear.
As Qian Li reached out to snatch the pouch, Lin Feng, using his Level Six Foundation power, executed a subtle, lightning-fast maneuver: he dropped the pouch, but simultaneously infused his thumb with a minuscule, razor-sharp edge of pure, refined Wood Qi.
The movement was too fast for anyone to see, even Qian Li. It was masked by the drama of the "shaking hand" and the natural chaotic movement of the market.
The red pouch tumbled to the ground, scattering the ten small Spirit Stones onto the dusty path.
"Oh, excuse me, Disciple Qian! My hands are so rough from cleaning," Lin Feng stammered, immediately dropping to his knees to begin gathering them, his eyes wide with panic.
Qian Li exploded in fury. "You absolute idiot! You spilled the tribute! You filthy waste!" He raised his foot, intending to kick Lin Feng, who was kneeling at his feet.
But before the foot landed, a sharp, cold pain sliced across Qian Li's palm—the same hand he was about to use to strike Lin Feng.
Lin Feng had not used his refined Wood Qi to attack; he had merely used it to sharpen one of the scattered Spirit Stones as it fell. The moment Qian Li reached for the pouch, the sharp edge of the stone sliced his palm like a hidden dagger.
It was a perfect, untraceable accident.
Qian Li snatched his hand back, clutching his palm. A thin line of blood immediately seeped between his fingers.
"What was that?" he roared. "You sliced me! You miserable dog, you dared to attack an Inner Peak disciple's subordinate?"
"I sliced you, Disciple Qian?" Lin Feng asked, looking utterly confused as he gathered the last stone. "No, sir! It must have been the Iron-Spur Root in the dirt! That ravine soil is known to have sharp, toxic spurs. Perhaps one of the stones was placed next to a shard of rock. My apologies!"
Han Yue stepped forward, her face pale. "Qian Li, he's right, the Ravine 4 area is extremely hazardous. It was likely a shard of rock. He wouldn't dare attack you."
Qian Li was in too much pain and confusion to argue. He didn't believe the stable hand could possibly move that fast, and the cut felt suspiciously clean, like a minor array had activated on the stone itself.
He glared at Lin Feng, his eyes burning with hatred. "Fine! Clean up this mess and get out! And next week, the tribute is fifteen Spirit Stones for your incompetence!"
"Yes, sir, absolutely!" Lin Feng said quickly, handing him the now-bloody pouch.
Qian Li, seething, turned and stalked away, gripping his injured hand.
Han Yue grabbed Lin Feng's arm as they walked away, pulling him behind a pile of lumber.
"Lin Feng! What was that? You nearly got yourself executed!"
Lin Feng looked at her, his expression instantly shifting from meek servant to cold strategist. "It was necessary, Han Yue. I could not simply give him the tribute; that would confirm us as weak suppliers."
"You cut him!"
"No, a sharp piece of ravine rock cut him," Lin Feng corrected, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Qian Li is Liu Kai's attack dog. Now, he thinks I am cursed, dangerously clumsy, and associated with highly toxic spiritual dirt. He will treat me with caution, not contempt. He will fear my presence, and he will tell his Master that the stable boy is trouble."
He gave her a slight, triumphant smile. "But more importantly, Han Yue, you saw the cut. Did you notice the size of the Spirit Stones in his hand?"
Han Yue frowned, shaking her head. "No, I was watching his face."
"They were small, standard stones," Lin Feng explained. "But the Yan Family Clan stall we just passed? They use large, high-grade stones as currency. We are dealing in copper and small stones, but the real power is held by those who deal in high-grade currency."
He then pointed subtly across the market to a woman seated behind a huge array of gleaming pills and resources. She was young, elegant, and bore an unmistakable aura of power—Foundation Establishment Level Eight. Yan Xia.
"She is our real target," Lin Feng whispered. "Liu Kai is a bully. Yan Xia is the competition. She controls the market we are disrupting. I need to know what she is buying, and what she is selling."
He looked back at Han Yue, his eyes holding a mixture of appreciation and gentle flirtation. "I need you to use your administrative skills, Han Yue. I need you to find out who the Yan Family is purchasing Foundation Materials from, and what kind of prices she is paying. Can you do that for me?"
Han Yue, still reeling from the encounter with Qian Li, was now entranced by Lin Feng's sudden shift to powerful, strategic thinking. He was utterly fearless, dangerously smart, and his voice held a compelling authority.
"Foundation Materials… those are high-grade and heavily regulated," she breathed. "I will need to check the import logs for the last two months. It will be risky."
"Good," Lin Feng murmured. "If we know her supply chain, we can disrupt it and replace it with something better. We are no longer just selling polish, Han Yue. We are preparing for a spiritual market war. And you are my chief intelligence officer."
He straightened up, his humble servant posture returning. "I must return now before Cao has a stroke. I will deliver the next supply on time. Find me the Yan Family's supplier."
He left her standing there, the scent of jasmine and the excitement of a high-stakes conspiracy filling the air. Han Yue watched him go, feeling a thrilling mix of fear and excitement. She knew, with absolute certainty, that her partnership with the stable hand was leading her into something far more complicated—and far more profitable—than she had ever imagined. The flirtation, the danger, and the sheer audacity of his plan were intoxicating.
Lin Feng, meanwhile, walked back, his mind focused. He had achieved his goals: he had escaped the estate, confirmed his financial viability, and delivered a clear warning to Liu Kai. Most importantly, he had set his sights on the next major power challenge: the Yan Family Clan and their Foundation Master, Yan Xia.