The noon sun hung high, casting long lines of shadow across Lai's farm. Rows of cabbages glistened like jade, beans coiled upward along perfect trellises, and pumpkins the size of small carriages basked in the warmth as though they were golden children of Heaven itself.
To any ordinary traveler, it was a peaceful scene. To the two women approaching, it was suffocating.
The first woman, dressed plainly as a merchant's daughter, kept her head bowed, hands folded just so, like someone trained in propriety since birth. Behind her, her attendant—slim, quiet, with the stance of a trained guard—kept her senses sharp.
They had barely stepped past the farm gate when the first shock came.
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The Weight of Power in a "Mortal" Farm
Standing at the edge of the rows, Garfield—once arrogant, now forged by iron golems and fire—lifted his head. His aura, restrained to a whisper, still leaked the unmistakable pressure of a Peak Nascent Soul cultivator.
The disguised Empress stiffened. Her heart skipped. Impossible… in a backwater border town?
Her guard faltered, knees trembling. "Y-your… Highness—" she choked before she could stop herself, then bit her tongue. A moment later, she collapsed outright, her spirit reeling under Garfield's casual glance.
The woman forced her breathing steady. "Calm," she told herself. "You are but a merchant. You are not Empress today."
But her eyes strayed again—and then she saw him.
Under the shade of a chestnut tree, Ao Guang sipped tea with all the quiet disdain of a being who had lived through centuries. The moment her eyes brushed his figure, her body's instincts screamed. His presence was deeper, darker, heavier—like an ocean pretending to be a pond.
She almost fainted.
Her lips parted, air shallow, but she forced herself still. I cannot falter. Not here.
And then her gaze fell upon the small figure practicing near the irrigation maze—Blanca.
At first, she thought the girl was an ordinary child. But when the sunlight revealed the faint shimmer of scales on her arms, her pupils slit like a serpent's, the Empress's heart dropped.
A Naga.
Her mind flashed the Imperial archives, the reports written in blood: A demon world, five ranks higher than ours. Blown to dust. All inhabitants annihilated.
And here stood one survivor, on this farm, under the wing of the "mortal" farmer.
Terror prickled her skin, but she smoothed her expression. She knew too well: One wrong word, one misplaced breath, and not just my empire—this entire world may follow that demon planet into ashes.
She swallowed her fear, and when she lifted her head again, she wore the simple smile of a merchant's daughter.
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The Merchant's Offer
"Farmer," she said softly, bowing low. "We have come from the capital. We heard rumors of your crops… and wish to purchase some."
Lai glanced up from where he crouched, tying bean vines with twine. His hands were dirty, his hair loose, his clothes plain linen patched at the knees. He looked no different from a thousand other village men.
But his eyes, when they slid over her, were sharp as blades beneath morning dew.
"Oh?" Lai said mildly. "From the capital, all the way here? That is far to walk for cabbages."
The woman kept her voice steady. "The empire suffers. Pests ravage every field but here. Farmers starve, granaries empty. We heard your harvests are untouched."
Lai brushed soil from his palms and straightened. His lips curled slightly. "Cabbages, carrots, pumpkins… They are children to me. Priceless."
"Of course," the woman murmured. "And yet everything has a price."
Lai's smile widened. "Then let's test your purse. One pumpkin—my pride baby—costs what a farmer earns in ten years."
Gasps rippled from Garfield and Long Fei nearby. Even Ao Guang arched a brow, amused. Blanca stopped mid-step in her water maze, blinking.
The disguised Empress did not flinch. She bowed again. "We accept."
Silence stretched. Even Garfield, usually proud, looked stunned.
"You accept?" Lai's voice was light, but his gaze lingered too long.
"The empire is in need," the woman replied smoothly. "Grain is life. A pumpkin worth ten years of toil is still cheaper than famine."
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Pests and Truths
Lai plucked a small weed, rolling it between his fingers. His tone was casual, but the soil itself seemed to listen.
"Tell me, merchant daughter. What pest troubles the capital so badly that even seasoned farmers fail?"
The woman hesitated. Tell him everything, and he may see weakness. Tell him nothing, and he may see insult.
She chose the middle path. "Locusts. Just a few… nothing much."
Lai's eyes narrowed, though he said nothing. His fingers crushed the weed; green juice bled down his hand.
"Mm. So locusts devour the empire's fields." He tapped his chin with the weed's stem. "Strange. Here, my crops grow full and fat. Perhaps Heaven favors this soil."
The woman inclined her head. "Perhaps. Or perhaps the farmer has means the empire does not."
"Means?" Lai asked softly. "You suggest I wield pest killers?"
Her eyes flickered. "Pesticides, yes. If you had any to sell, the empire would pay dearly."
Lai tilted his head, studying her. His eyes were calm, but in their depths lay still rivers that drowned kings. "Ah. And what happened to the capital's farmers?"
"They…" She chose her words carefully. "They cannot solve the situation. Locusts breed faster than hope."
Lai chuckled under his breath. "Then what am I? Just a village farmer."
"True," she said gently. "But this village farmer harvests while others starve. Locusts do not touch your land. That alone makes you unique."
The air grew taut, as though the soil itself held its breath.
Lai looked at her for a long moment. Then he smiled, sudden and easy, as if nothing mattered. "Locusts, hm? Then I will sell you my pumpkin. Just one. A pride baby, raised with more care than kings give their sons."
He snapped his fingers. A golden pumpkin rolled from the field by itself, its surface glowing faintly with spiritual luster.
"Ten years' wealth," Lai said. "Do you still agree?"
The woman nodded at once. "Gladly."
Her guard, still pale from fainting earlier, could barely comprehend what her mistress had just accepted. But the Empress did not waver.
---
Between the Words
Garfield muttered under his breath. "A pumpkin… ten years of sweat. She agreed like it was nothing."
Long Fei whispered back. "Master's playing some deeper game."
Ao Guang sipped his tea, watching the exchange with serpentine amusement. "Mortals bargain coins. Kings bargain kingdoms. But only Lai bargains with Heaven itself."
The woman bowed once more, her smile unbroken. "We thank you, farmer. The empire shall remember this kindness."
Lai wiped his hands on his trousers and leaned on his hoe. "Kindness?" His eyes glinted. "No, little merchant. This is trade. You bring coin. I give crop. That is all."
But as he turned back to his beans, his voice carried softly, almost idly:
"And if locusts trouble you so dearly… perhaps next season, I will take a walk. See what kind of bugs gnaw at the empire's roots."
The Empress's pulse raced. She bowed low, hiding her expression. A walk. If he walks into the capital, not even the throne will remain steady.
The noon sun bore down, but the farm's shade was colder than winter.
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