Old Ma's raspy voice still hung in the air of the shop.
Lin Mu listened to the ultimate condition Old Ma had laid out — one that might as well have demanded he reach up and touch the sky — and the gravity on his face dissolved in an instant into something between stunned disbelief and sheer absurdity.
He slumped back against the bamboo chair and forced out a bitter, incredulous laugh.
"Who could possibly know that? Old Ma, are you deliberately making a fool of me? The true whereabouts of a Rank 5 powerhouse's inheritance — something that shook heaven and earth — how would someone like me ever get my hands on that? You've painted a picture so big I can't even hold it."
Old Ma, watching Lin Mu — who was normally as calculating and unflappable as some kind of small monster — now scratching his head and squirming in rare, visible frustration, felt not the slightest displeasure. He took two long, satisfied pulls from his pipe and broke into a thoroughly self-satisfied laugh.
"Ha ha ha ha! You little bastard — I watch you out-scheme everyone every single day, and today I finally get to see you eating dirt and hopping around in a panic!"
Old Ma stroked his bare chin with evident self-satisfaction, his eye gleaming with delight.
When he had laughed his fill, he stifled a cough, knocked his pipe hard against its bowl, and spoke in a long, unhurried drawl.
"But what I said is the honest truth, every word of it. If the Black Bone King's inheritance were that easy to surface, the benefactor wouldn't have been sitting in this backwater for over a decade with nothing to show for it. That said — back in the day, this old man had nothing to his name either, and I still made it through, didn't I?"
Lin Mu's mind stirred. He caught the note of pleasure Old Ma was taking in this moment with sharp precision, and immediately played along, leaning into the opening.
"Oh? Then since Elder Brother is feeling so generous, might you have some clever trick to teach your little brother?"
"Every transaction in this world, when you strip it down, is just trading one thing for another. With the benefactor, that's even more true."
Old Ma was visibly gratified. He leaned in with an air of mystery and lowered his voice to a near-whisper.
"The benefactor's ultimate obsession is indeed the Black Bone King — but how many great powerhouses have been buried across the Southern Border throughout the ages? If you can provide leads on other ancient inheritances — Rank 4, even Rank 5 or above — even an incomplete fragment of a clue, as long as it carries enough weight, you can still make a deal with the benefactor and earn his protection. After all, in the eyes of the Demonic Path, as long as the price is right, everything is negotiable."
On the surface, Lin Mu's brow furrowed as he sank into what appeared to be agonized deliberation. But inside his mind, his thoughts were already running at full speed.
The original work had mentioned many inheritances. He only needed to pick one or two inconsequential Rank 4 or Rank 5 inheritance leads — that would be more than enough to complete this transaction.
Yet before he had fully sorted through the candidates, Old Ma, watching the troubled expression on Lin Mu's face, suddenly let out a long, slow sigh.
"Forget it. I already knew — a kid who's never even set foot outside Black Wind Ridge, what earth-shattering secrets could you possibly know."
Old Ma took a sideways pull from his pipe, and his expression shifted — becoming more serious and grave than Lin Mu had ever seen it. He fixed his eye on Lin Mu's face, dropped his already barely-audible voice even lower, and spoke with deliberate, measured weight.
"This old man has been scraping through the Grey Street for over a decade. By the end of it, I've actually managed to stockpile a little something. In a moment, I'll take you to see the benefactor myself. When you're standing in front of him, present the intelligence I give you as secrets you uncovered yourself, through life-and-death effort. Do you understand? When you're before the benefactor — not a breath of wind about where it came from. Don't let it slip that it was me who gave it to you."
Boom.
Lin Mu went completely still. It was as though a thunderclap had gone off inside his skull.
He genuinely had not expected it. This old man — who rambled endlessly on ordinary days, who was tight-fisted and calculating over every last coin — was willing, at this moment of life and death, to hand over his most precious and most guarded intelligence just to save Lin Mu's life.
"Old Ma, you..." Lin Mu opened his mouth. His voice came out slightly hoarse.
"Alright, alright — none of that sentimental nonsense. It turns my stomach."
Old Ma waved his pipe with a look of mild disgust, cutting him off with an impatient flick of his hand.
"This old man is just playing a long game. You, boy — you know exactly where the line is when you work. I've got no end of black-market goods that'll need your legs to move them in the future. At a time like this, you can't go dying at Li Mang's hands. Where else would I find a runner this useful?"
At that explanation, Lin Mu said nothing more. He simply gave a quiet, measured bow.
But he knew — this debt, Lin Mu would repay.
After that, Old Ma put away his pipe, shifted the heavy bone table behind the counter, and triggered a mechanism in the wall.
Clack... clack...
With a low, grinding rumble, the stone wall behind him slid slowly to one side, revealing a dim, narrow passage within.
"Let's go."
Old Ma led the way. The two of them felt their way through the dark tunnel for roughly half an hour before the space around them suddenly opened up.
Here, there was none of the Grey Street's grimy, smoky market atmosphere. There was only a vast stand of black bamboo, rising in dead, motionless silence.
Deep within the bamboo grove, the vague shape of a small bamboo building loomed — strange and still.
Old Ma stopped walking. He turned around and transmitted his voice to Lin Mu in a tone of absolute seriousness.
"Once we're inside — the benefactor's temperament is unpredictable. Moods shift without warning. Even I can't read him. If he doesn't address you, be a corpse. Don't say a single extra word."
"Lin Mu understands."
Lin Mu's expression was grave. He gave a silent nod.
The two of them stepped inside.
Old Ma drew a slow breath, composed his expression into one of respectful deference, and bowed slightly toward the dim inner chamber.
"Lord Wuxiang! Old Ma has an urgent matter to request your aid with!"
Silence.
A silence like death.
And then, from deep within the inner chamber — not the response Old Ma had anticipated, but a laugh. Soft, husky, languid, carrying something that was equal parts mockery and inexplicable allure. A woman's voice.
"Old Ma, oh Old Ma — have your eyes truly grown that dim with age?"
"...You actually brought a Gu master who is deliberately concealing their cultivation to see me?"