Chapter 41: Jinlong Merchant Association

Jiang Ding walked down the bustling street, a long sword at his waist.

The unexplained disappearances of some beggars had no effect on Dongling City; on the contrary, as the Four Seas Merchant Association coordinated efforts to open the Dongling Mountains, vast quantities of rare herbs and exotic beasts were brought back daily.

Prices for herbs, meat, and other goods had dropped to varying degrees, and the market grew ever more prosperous and lively.

Many shops that struggled to survive—blacksmiths, clinics, teahouses, brothels—now had constant customers and made more than enough profit.

Many idle men who previously went hungry between meals suddenly found work—carrying goods, assisting laborers, doing hard labor; the bolder ones even entered the mountains to hunt beasts or catch butterflies, earning higher wages than before.

Under these circumstances, rumors of occasional deaths in the Dongling Mountains drew no attention whatsoever.

“This might be what’s called investment-driven economic stimulation…”

Jiang Ding suddenly understood, recalling certain things from his textbooks.

Nothing else—just throw money, smash it down the moment you meet, the cruder and more direct the better, the more the brothers would like it.

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Once goodwill was established, customers naturally chose the Four Seas Merchant Association first, and business flourished steadily.

He had always had a good temper.

Each one was full of vigor, their faces marked with arrogance; several even radiated the aura of internal qi.

Many people spent their entire lives stuck just before the bottleneck.

Judging by their restless demeanor, they had been waiting for quite some time.

“Ding Mou has erred; I beg your punishment.”

Many specimens were lost as a result.

“Hahaha!”

“Just as all things possess yin and yang.”

Taking advantage of the Dongling opening, the merchant association granted benefits to all major factions in the city, dividing equally among them the rare herbs, minerals, and exotic beasts obtained during the excavation, so that all parties gained something.

“Forgive me, Young Master!”

Passing by the glittering Jinlong Merchant Association, Dongling City’s top merchant house, he noticed it had grown far quieter.

A shabby, cramped little general store had been arranged to resemble the parlor of a wealthy household.

“I’ve long heard that Dongling City has gained another young talent; Ding Feng came uninvited—please forgive my presumption.”

Know that both the eight-legged table and the silk curtains were extremely valuable—equivalent to giving away dozens of silver taels without doing anything at all.

A hearty laugh rang out from inside the room.

Only the foundational technique, “Ju Ying Qi Fei Jian Jue,” had reached minor mastery (99%) a half-month ago and could not break through.

Large numbers of herb collectors and mountain villagers were blocked outside the door, not daring to take a single step forward; some, growing impatient, left on their own.

He bowed deeply.

Jiang Ding ignored him, scanning the room.

He had only contributed the equivalent of about fifty to sixty thousand silver taels, yet under the Four Seas Merchant Association’s leverage, this triggered an economic storm sweeping across the surrounding regions of Dongling City—far exceeding the purchasing limit of fifty to sixty thousand silver taels.

This is how the Jianghu reputation of “Spring Wind Hands” came to be.

A sudden insight struck him; the speed of his internal qi seemed to have increased slightly.

This kind of technique bottleneck was also described in books: young martial artists lacked sufficient understanding of martial and immortal paths; they needed more study, deeper comprehension, or more varied experiences—perhaps then they would suddenly understand.

The original counter and square stools had vanished; in the center of the front hall stood an expensive redwood eight-legged table, covered in brocade, surrounded by incense, and silk curtains now hung at the windows.

Seeing Jiang Ding’s hidden anger, Ding Feng suddenly understood, his face flushing with shame: “Ding Feng is used to mingling with street friends; it’s my fault.”

!.

The usual bustling crowd was gone; only one customer appeared after long intervals.

Jiang Ding looked up, his brows knitting slightly.

Minor Concealment Technique had reached proficiency (68%), Golden Seal and Thousand Threads Pull both reached minor mastery. “Perhaps, in the real world, evil and beauty are destined to coexist.”

For days, the shop’s entrance had been blocked by a group of sturdy servants dressed in silk, who prevented the constant stream of people delivering unknown specimens from entering.

“Who is this big shot?”

Huang Deyou cowered like a quail in the corner.

“Hurry up, we need to buy rice and get back to the village…”

The two gatekeepers at the door were clearly at the internal qi realm; seeing Jiang Ding approach, they bowed slightly: “Our master is discussing urgent matters with the shopkeeper; please wait a moment, or come another day.”

On the eight-legged table, tea steam curled gently, its fragrance invigorating—far superior to the cheap tea Jiang Ding had once served Long San.

A manager beside the door shuddered, suddenly recognizing the visitor; he hurried over to Jiang Ding’s side, smiling obsequiously: “Our master is Ding Feng of the Jinlong Merchant Association; he has been waiting for you.”

“Seven Mysteries Martial Hall!”

Ding Feng froze; in his mind, this was like visiting a master’s home and finding him absent, so one swept the floor as a gesture.

The Jinlong Merchant Association, Dongling City’s top merchant house, was led by “Spring Wind Hands” Ding Feng—a renowned hero throughout Dongling City, who loved making friends with all kinds of martial figures, and had close ties with the leaders of the Righteous Brotherhood and the Dragon-Tiger Martial Hall.

“Young Master, we merely did a little cleaning…”

Groups of well-dressed servants and maids, always wearing warm, appropriate smiles, had become decorations—far more numerous than the customers.

These were all young talents sent up from branch halls across Dongling City; within just over a month, several gifted youths had ascended to Qixuan Mountain and become disciples of Qixuan Sect’s acting Sect Master, “Iron Hawk Sword” Zhang Zihou—truly a leap to heaven.

Take Jiang Chaoyang, for example: nearly fifty years old, his “Ju Ying Qi Fei Jue” remained only at proficiency level, locked in this bottleneck for decades.

A tall, stout man wearing a brocade robe embroidered with golden toads hurried out from within at the noise, bowing deeply from afar.

But it must not interfere with his cultivation! Library points were vital to him; no one, for any reason, could obstruct this in the slightest! “Forgive me, Young Master.”

He did not appreciate this style of decoration.

Jiang Ding, displeased, walked toward the door.

Jiang Ding placed his hand on his sword hilt and said coolly: “Move aside.”

For a month, he had trained relentlessly, opening over six hundred minor branches of the twelve regular meridians; now, the total number of opened meridians reached seven hundred twenty, and he would complete the thousand-two required for “Small Heavenly Cycle” within at most one month.

The Four Seas Merchant Association was merely a moderately sized merchant house in Dongling City.

Jiang Ding looked at the joyful faces around him, filled with hope for the future, then contrasted them with the beggars nearly kidnapped on Filth Alley, and thought this.

More importantly, this decoration style ignored all practicality, completely abandoning the general store’s original functions; restoring it would waste time.

The Four Seas Merchant Association deeply understood the principle of not monopolizing profits.

The two internal qi servants were about to speak, but a chill ran through them; they dared not block him further and let him pass.

In contrast, a nearby large mansion—once of unknown purpose—had become the main hall of the Seven Mysteries Martial Hall, filled daily with energetic boys and girls.

His words were humble, yet an air of pride slipped through unconsciously.

“Young Master Jiang!”

Huang Deyou, Long Shi—even if they offended him, he didn’t care, as long as they didn’t hinder his cultivation; mistakes could be corrected, views could be refined.

Jiang Ding stared at the tall, stout man before him, glancing at the two spinning iron balls in his hand, expressionless: “Ding Manager—is this your house or mine?”

Jinlong Merchant Association,

Deliberately maintaining Minor Concealment Technique, Jiang Ding pondered various martial questions, and unconsciously strolled to the shop’s entrance.

“No matter.”

Jiang Ding found a seat and sat, suppressing his emotions; he now had a new understanding of those who had risen to fame in the martial world—flexible as water, soft and hard alike.

But he had no time to waste; he could not allow specimens to slip away.

“Ding Manager, what brings you here?”

(End of Chapter)