One group consisted of the private soldiers of a minor family, while the other was a hastily assembled team of wandering martial artists.
Faced with Shen Xiuyong's strictly-business demeanor, both groups could only grit their teeth and accept their losses, though their hearts bled. They each had to leave behind a hefty sum of "Tea Money" before being allowed to pass.
Chen Qing watched silently from the side. Shen Xiuyong's methods were masterful; he extorted just the right amount to make them feel the sting without pushing them into desperation.
Naturally, he also received a small cut of the profits: a few high-purity gold ingots and several ordinary Treasure Medicines of decent age. It was a reward for his troubles, and better than nothing.
Just then, the silhouette of a ship drifted erratically into view.
It wasn't sailing from the direction of the island's core battlefield but was hugging the edge of the island, drifting out from a relatively remote waterway.
