A young man stepped into the shop, "Good morning, Boss Cu—,"

  Just then two men stormed inside, shoving the young customer aside. The first man was a towering brute, built like an ox, his broad shoulders and thick limbs filling the doorway. A long, curved sword hung from his waist, the hilt worn but still deadly sharp.

  The ox-man hauled along the other—a pale and gaunt figure who clutched his stomach, face twisted in pain. His hand gripped a small, gleaming dagger, but his posture was shaky, as though he could barely stand.

  "Aiyah!" The young man yelped as he stumbled, landing hard on the wooden floor.

  "What do you think you're doing?" Cui Hua's voice cut through the shop like a blade as she rounded the counter.

  Zhen stepped forward, extending a hand to the fallen customer, his gaze never leaving the newcomers.

  The ox-like man's sharp eyes scanned the shop before he barked, "Who's in charge here?"

  Cui Hua crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Depends who's asking."

  The brute sneered. "So you're the one peddling cursed rice!" He gestured to his frail companion. "Look at my brother! Once strong as an ox, now reduced to this! You heartless wretch, poisoning a man for a few spirit stones!"

  Cui Hua's nostrils flared. "Cursed rice? What kind of nonsense is that?"

  The man jabbed a thick finger at her. "How would I know? He bought rice from you this morning, made porridge, and now look at him! Lucky I didn't eat any, or I'd be the same."

  Cui Hua scoffed. "And you think it's my rice that did this?"

  The ox-like man growled. "It's your rice, all right!" His grip tightened on his brother's arm as the maybe-poisoned man doubled over, a pained moan escaping his lips.

  Cui Hua stepped forward, her eyes blazing. "You dare to accuse me without proof? I've been selling rice in this market for over twenty years. Not once has anyone fallen ill!"

  The brute sneered, "Proof? Look at him! He's dying because of you!" He shoved his brother forward, and the sick man stumbled, barely catching himself on the counter.

  Zhen watched the show, his mind racing. Cui Hua had been kind to him, slipping him rice when he couldn't afford it. She was also shrewd—too smart to poison her own customers.

  His sharp gaze flicked to the door—left ajar. A few curious faces peered in, their whispers snaking through the air. If rumors spread, who would dare buy from her again? These men weren't just complaining about a bad batch of rice. They were trying to ruin her.

  Straightening, he opened his mouth. "These two gentlema—"

  "What?" The ox-like man threw him a glare, eyes flashing.

  Before Zhen could speak further, Cui Hua stepped in front of him. A subtle shake of her head told him to hold his tongue.

  "Boss Cui…" Zhen hesitated.

  Cui Hua leaned in, voice low and firm. "Soft words before hard hands."

  Zhen sighed. If she wanted diplomacy first, he had no choice.

  The earlier commotion had already attracted a lot of attention. If this continued, the rice shop's reputation would be destroyed. Even if one knew the accusations were false, one could only comply and hope to end this fiasco quickly.

  She reached into her sleeve, pulling out a few gleaming gold coins. Without hesitation, she held them out. "Your brother's illness has nothing to do with me, but take this and have him checked by a doctor. If he truly is poisoned, you'll need medicine, not accusations."

  But she wouldn't have imagined that these two men had no intention of compromising. "You black-hearted boss, you think a few trinkets will shut me up? We were really unlucky to have bought poisoned rice from you! Where is your guilty conscience?"

  Zhen watched as Cui Hua's face darkened. So, she had realized it too—this wasn't just about money. If these men were after silver, their demands would have been straightforward. But their motives were very puzzling and unclear.

  The murmurs outside grew. "What's happening here? Is something wrong with the rice?"

  "Poisoned rice?!"

  "Oh dear! I just bought rice from her this morning!"

  "I've bought from her for years. Never had a problem."

  The crowd thickened, pressing closer. And then, another figure stepped forward—a young man in Abyssal Harmony Sect robes, his stride unhurried, his eyes gleaming with interest.

  His sharp, fox-like eyes gleamed gold in the flickering glow, amusement playing in their depths. A faint scar, pale against his sun-kissed skin, curved just below his left eye, barely visible beneath loose strands of his ink-black hair.

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  He circled the two men like a hawk, clicking his tongue.

  Others may not have noticed, but with a glance, Zhen recognized this one as the disciple he had spotted earlier in the alley. Then those two should also be with him… Are these three men plotting something?

  The ox-man scowled. "Brat, stop walking in circles. You're making me dizzy."

  A gasp rippled through the crowd. Cui Hua's breath hitched ever so slightly. The brat—this seemingly ordinary youth—was a disciple of the local hegemony. And yet, the ox-man spoke to him so rudely.

  Either the man was powerful himself… or a fool.

  The disciple merely snickered. He stepped closer, standing before the two men, eyes locked onto the ‘poisoned' man. "Your face is very pale. Looks like your poisoning isn't simple."

  The sick man responded viciously, "Of course it's not. If it were, why would I be here with my brother instead of at the doctor's? We came to expose this boss's black heart—to show her true colors. So no one else suffers as we have."

  Zhen whispered, "Boss Cui, did you offend anyone lately?"

  Cui Hua's brows knitted. "No one."

  "Then… did your rice shop threaten someone else's business?" Even though Zhen was young, he had experienced many things. So this thought was not impossible.

  "This is just a humble job to survive, how could I prevent others from their income?"

  Something felt off. Zhen stared at the ground, his mind racing but finding no answers.

  Before he could act, the disciple did. With a flicker of movement, he grabbed the sick man's wrist.

  "Hey!" The ox-man roared, stepping forward, but his words faltered mid-tirade.

  The disciple pinched the man's palm—and pulled. A wriggling black worm surfaced, squirming in the light.

  "What is that thing?!" someone in the crowd shouted.

  The poisoned man, moments ago pale and weak, now jolted upright, his hands flailing, face flushed with sudden energy.

  "Poisoned?" The disciple's voice dripped with mockery. "Using a Blood Sucking Gu? Not bad. This gu feeds off a host's energy, making them appear weak and sickly. But if it's removed within a day, the host regains most of their strength."

  The two men paled visibly. The supposed victim no longer appeared ill.

  "Shameful! Trying to ruin her business!"

  "He's so handsome! A true hero!"

  "Trying to frame her! I knew something was fishy."

  "Thank goodness the disciple uncovered the truth."

  The murmurs of the crowd shifted, their once-wary expressions melting into admiration for the young man. His posture was effortless, his smile the perfect balance of humility and pride.

  Standing at the edge of the commotion, Zhen observed quietly, doubt creeping into his mind. Had I been mistaken? Were they not together?

  If Zhen hadn't witnessed them together earlier, he might have been fooled. But he had seen them. He knew what he saw. So why go to such lengths? What did they truly want?

  "Brat, who are you to interfere in my brother's issues?" The ox-man demanded, his voice laced with just the right amount of indignation.

  With a graceful turn with the flare of his robe catching the light, the disciple smirked. "Nominal Disciple Xu Mian of the Abyssal Harmony Sect."

  A beat of silence.

  Then, the ox-man's face paled, his bravado crumbling in an instant. His legs nearly gave out as he took an involuntary step back. "An honored disciple… No, a heavenly figure!" His voice cracked with desperation as both men fell to their knees. "I was blind, ignorant beyond measure! To have spoken so rudely— Please, have mercy! We are but lowly insects before your august presence!"

  Xu Mian gazed down at the kneeling ox-man, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched, thick with tension. The gathered onlookers barely dared to shift in place, fearful of drawing the disciple's ire.

  Then, with the faintest of sighs, Xu Mian flicked his sleeve. A subtle wave of spiritual energy rippled outward, pressing down on the ox-man just enough to remind him of the difference in their statuses.

  "Lowly?" Xu Mian mused, tilting his head. "Insects, you say?" He chuckled, though there was no warmth in it. "At least insects have the wisdom to avoid stepping on a dragon's tail."

  The ox-man shuddered, his breath shallow. "This fool—this lowly one was blind and deaf! Had I known, I would never have dared to speak out of turn!" He prostrated himself lower, forehead nearly digging into the dirt. "Please, mighty disciple, grant this wretched one mercy!"

  Xu Mian regarded him for a moment before exhaling, as if indulging a tiresome chore. "Very well, since you have acknowledged your ignorance, I shall not dirty my hands with your blood today."

  But Cui Hua wasn't so easily swayed.

  A soft scoff broke through the murmurs. Arms crossed, Cui Hua leaned against the counter, her expression somewhere between amusement and disapproval. "We can't just let them go."

  The two men stiffened.

  But Zhen noticed that Xu Mian's face stayed neutral, his features set in stone. Yet his gaze flickered toward Cui Hua with renewed interest, as if a fish had taken the bait. His lips barely moved, a slight curve tugging at the corner, but his eyes—his eyes betrayed a calculating edge.

  Zhen's chest tightened, a deep unease curling through him. This is more than just about the rice shop and attracting attention... He had seen that gleam in Xu Mian's eyes before, the kind that meant this—whatever "this" was—was part of something far bigger. But he couldn't quite grasp the full picture.

  Before he could steady his thoughts, Cui Hua's voice rang clear over the crowd, cutting through the murmurs. "Today, it was my Hua Rice Stand. Tomorrow, it could be Shi Feng's Leather Shop. Or Hu Gui's Meat Shop. If we don't stop them now, who will?"

  Realization swept through the onlookers. A few stepped forward, blocking the men's retreat.

  "She's right! We can't let them get away with it!"

  "Aye! They think they can just come into our neighborhood and take what they want?"

  "A beating is too good for them!"

  The two men—now fully aware of the crowd's sudden shift—tried to push their way through, but the onlookers stood firm, pressing forward. Their retreat was met with resistance, bodies pressing in, forcing them back.

  The ox-man stumbled, losing his balance, and was shoved violently toward Cui Hua. The other man faltered too, teetering back toward Xu Mian.

  Then, everything changed.

  With a savage roar, the ox-man's hand shot to the hilt of a blade, the steel flashing. "You bitch! You should've just handed over the money!" In one swift motion, he lunged, the blade aimed straight at Cui Hua's heart. His snarl twisted his face, his rage pouring out like a tidal wave.