Lin Xuan did not move. Underneath the thick shadow of his gray wool hood, his dark eyes remained entirely calm, though his analytical mind was already calculating variables at maximum speed.
Beside him, Lin Chen stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. She instinctively stepped half a pace behind Lin Xuan, her hands gripping the edges of her cloak tightly.
"I said, take off those hoods," Xiong Wei repeated, his broad face twisting into an impatient scowl. He stepped closer, his heavy leather boots thudding against the brass floorboards. At Level 1, Sub-Level 4 of Qi Gathering, his aura radiated outward in violent, unrefined heat shimmers, creating an oppressive weight intended to intimidate commoners.
Lin Xuan slowly raised his head just enough to expose his small, pale chin, keeping his eyes shrouded in shadow.
"The Seven-Treasures Pavilion is an open market," Lin Xuan said, keeping his voice flat, low, and devoid of emotion. "We paid for our goods in full. Since when does the Iron-Bear Clan require a toll of faces to trade standard herbs?"
A low murmur rippled through the nearby clerks and patrons. Supervisor Zhang nervously wiped sweat from his forehead behind the counter, opening his mouth to mediate, but one look from Xiong Wei’s guards silenced him immediately.
Xiong Wei let out a harsh, bark-like laugh. "In Mistbrook, everything answers to my clan! You come into our market, drop high-grade currency, and hide like thieves. Supervisor Zhang, what did they pay with?"
Lin Xuan’s eyes narrowed slightly beneath his hood.
In the cultivation world, mortal copper and silver coins were only useful for buying food, cloth, and basic housing. True wealth—and the lifeblood of all high-tier commerce—was measured entirely in Spirit Stones.
These naturally occurring crystalline formations held pure, unrefined ambient Qi locked within their mineral matrices. They were divided into four strict tiers, each separated by a massive hundred-to-one conversion boundary: Low-Grade, Medium-Grade, High-Grade, and Supreme-Grade spirit stones.
A single Low-Grade Spirit Stone was worth ten thousand copper coins—enough to feed an entire mortal family in Stonebrook for half a year. Yet, to a cultivator, a low-grade stone was merely a disposable battery, used to power basic formations or absorb minor bursts of energy during training.
A Medium-Grade Spirit Stone, glowing with ten times the purity and density, was worth one hundred low-grade stones. They were held in the vaults of major clans like the Lin Family and Iron-Bear Clan, reserved strictly for elder cultivation breakthroughs and major clan operations.
Higher still were High-Grade Spirit Stones, worth one hundred medium-grade stones, which rarely circulated outside of regional Sects like the Mist-Cloud Sect. As for Supreme-Grade Spirit Stones, they were legends to backwoods towns—crystalline treasures capable of powering mountain-clearing arrays or sustaining a cultivator's lifespan for centuries.
The thirty low-grade spirit stones Lin Xuan had just handed over represented a serious expenditure for ordinary mercenaries. To Xiong Wei, two cloaked figures carrying that much currency without a visible caravan guard looked like easy prey.
"Thirty low-grade stones..." Xiong Wei sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hand over the mahogany box, kid. Consider it a security tax for operating in Mistbrook without a permit. Do it, and I'll let you walk out of here on your own two feet."
The four Iron-Bear guards stepped forward, their hands resting on the hilt of their broadswords, locking off the pavilion's exit.
Target assessment, Lin Xuan calculated coldly. Xiong Wei is at Sub-Level 4, but his weight distribution is biased toward his right leg, and his lower dantian leaks five percent of its thermal drive with every breath. The four guards are all at Sub-Level 2, holding crude weapons with slow reaction windows.
Despite being only nine years old and standing at Level 1, Sub-Level 3 of Qi Gathering, Lin Xuan felt no fear. To his mind, Xiong Wei and his guards were not a wall; they were simply an inefficiently designed obstacle. With his thermodynamic circulation and dual-core speed, he could strike Xiong Wei's vulnerable knee joint, disrupt his leaking dantian, and break through the exit door before the guards could even draw their blades.
Anonymity is preferred, Lin Xuan thought, his small hands slowly sliding out from his sleeves, but when efficiency demands violence, hesitation is a system flaw.
"Xuan'er..." Lin Chen whispered, her Wood-Water Qi instinctively humming beneath her skin, ready to support him.
"Stay behind me," Lin Xuan commanded silently.
He took a half-step forward, his gaze locking onto Xiong Wei's misaligned knee, ready to execute a high-velocity force strike that would shatter the Iron-Bear young master's arrogance in a single second.