Purple Sun Prefecture, Joyful Hotpot Restaurant.
Not long ago, the Hidden Dragon Ranking was updated again, and two prodigies from a prefecture-level sect caused a sensation throughout Purple Sun Prefecture, becoming the talk of the town.
"Have you heard? Our Purple Sun Prefecture’s Qingyuan Sect produced two..."
"Who in Purple Sun Prefecture hasn’t heard of the ‘Wife-Blessing Battle Soul’ and the ‘Frost Fairy’?"
"Among the recent Hidden Dragon prodigies, who could possibly outshine these two?"
"Tsk tsk, just at the Third Realm, they ventured into the Southern Borderlands to slay demons and returned unscathed—what peerless grace! This calls for a toast!"
"Stuttering Girl, bring us more wine!"
Listening to the customers’ chatter, the ‘waiter’—dressed in oversized clothes with a cloth blindfold—clattered over with a tray of wine, along with a complimentary plate of peanuts.
"Stuttering Girl, we also ordered wine. Why no peanuts for us?" one table of customers asked curiously.
Jiang Chulong hugged the tray to her chest and whispered.
Only those who spoke well of Big Brother Li got free peanuts.
The slighted customer grew displeased, but his companions quickly pulled him down and gestured toward the second floor. There, a woman in palace attire sat with her legs spread wide, squinting at the mouth of her wine gourd. She tipped it twice—not a drop left—and her stunningly beautiful face twisted in annoyance.
The customer shuddered and immediately sat straight, as obedient as a child on their first day of school.
"Sister Shang, your wine."
"Why hasn’t my precious disciple returned from the Southern Borderlands yet?"
Shang Wu sighed, taking the wine from Jiang Chulong. She smacked her lips—her tastes had long been spoiled by her disciple’s offerings, and even this fine Qingluo wine now seemed lackluster.
"I... I miss Big Brother Li too."
Jiang Chulong bit her lip. She glanced toward the private room where Aunt Mei and the Qingyuan Sect elders were gathered, then whispered:
"Sister Shang, did... did Big Brother Li send word back?"
Shang Wu shook her head—not to deny it, but because she didn’t know.
So Jiang Chulong tiptoed to the door to eavesdrop.
Aunt Mei’s voice came through:
"Those two youngsters in the Southern Borderlands—it’s not just about making a name for themselves. You all know the stakes. With the Floating Temple gone, chaos is brewing."
Qian Bufan, Xue Jing, Han He, and the other peak masters and elders sat in grim silence.
Every elder who oversaw a peak knew the sect’s deepest secrets—their sect had descended from the guardians of an imperial mausoleum.
And behind the Calamity Beasts lurked the remnants of the Great Shang Dynasty.
"Why haven’t Li Mo and Ying Bing returned yet?" Qian Bufan mused.
"What if," Xue Jing ventured, thinking of the boy’s temperament, "he’s trying to defend the Southern Borderlands’ cities?"
Only the bubbling of the hotpot and Qian Bufan’s thoughtful lip-smacking filled the silence.
That possibility was disturbingly plausible.
"Prepare yourselves. The imperial court has already abandoned the Southern Pass. It’s only a matter of time. I plan to take Chulong and leave—"
Before Mei Yun could finish, the door creaked open. Jiang Chulong stood there, timid yet resolute, like a white flower pushing through stone.
"Aunt Mei... Chulong... Chulong won’t go."
Mei Yun froze. She’d never seen this side of Jiang Chulong before. Her expression darkened.
"Is it this place you can’t leave? We can rebuild an identical one elsewhere."
"It’s not the same... This... is the home Big Brother Li gave me."
Jiang Chulong’s face paled, her voice trembling but firm.
She didn’t understand the grand schemes of the world or the turmoil in the Southern Borderlands.
She would wait here for Big Brother Li’s return.
Just then, former Rain Pavilion assassin Zuo Qiuyang rushed in waving a slip of paper:
"Big trouble! Huge trouble!"
"Someone bought out every last scrap of beef and lamb in the prefecture—not half a catty left! How are we supposed to run our business? Is this some underhanded tactic by rival hotpot joints?"
The entire Prosperity Trading Company was in chaos, workers scurrying like ants in and out of warehouses.
"Short on manpower? What do I pay you for?"
"Go to the docks and hire temps—double, no, triple their usual pay!"
Sun Gui, the plump general manager, bustled about personally.
This order came from the God of Wealth himself. If he pulled it off, he might not just stay in Yunzhou—the Imperial Capital headquarters could be next.
"Mother of mercy, what’s Young Hero Li planning?"
"This much grain could raise an army and start a rebellion..."
Sun Gui wiped his brow and muttered.
A voice spoke behind him. Sun Gui turned to see Li Mo at the warehouse entrance, chugging a bottle of Three-Light Elixir—a rare spirit-nourishing treasure—like it was water.
Sun Gui’s liver trembled at the sight.
What kind of Divine Perception Realm soul could withstand that?
And when had he arrived? Sun Gui, an Internal Scenery expert, hadn’t sensed a thing...
A method to traverse from the Southern Borderlands to Yunzhou in moments? Unheard of.
"The first batch is nearly ready—meat, grain, oil..."
Sun Gui handed over the inventory list, then hesitantly added:
"Forgive my boldness, Young Hero, but Yunzhou’s grain prices have risen twenty percent. To avoid impacting locals, we’d need to source the next batch from outside, which’ll cost far more."
Li Mo nodded, storing mountains of supplies into his World Seed as Sun Gui gaped.
A spatial treasure of that scale? Also unprecedented.
Another day where the richest man in Yunzhou was humbled by the limits of his imagination.
Southern Borderlands, Greenwood City.
The city was already on high alert, tension thick as the circling winged Calamity Beasts of the enemy scouts.
The grain depot of Greenwood Barracks, now under Commander Qu Sheng’s personal guard, stood as the most heavily fortified site.
Yet as the wind howled through its empty halls, Qu Sheng stood before the barren warehouse, face unreadable.
"Young Hero Li said he’d fill Greenwood Barracks’ granaries to bursting?"
"That’s what he said before leaving."
Huang Donglai confirmed nearby.
Qu Sheng’s frown deepened. Reason told him this was impossible.
Eight thousand men consumed hundreds of thousands of pounds of grain daily. The logistical demands of war staggered even the Imperial Court—how could one man shoulder this?
Let alone the question of transport...
Even if they managed to gather the supplies, how could they deliver them in time?
For a single person to transport provisions across thousands of miles in such a short span—it sounded like nothing short of a fantasy.
Had it been anyone other than Li Mo making such a claim, Qu Sheng would never have mobilized his men to wait here.
Qu Sheng began to wonder—had Young Hero Li already decided to leave, but couldn’t bear to lose face, so he made those grand promises before slipping away?
From what he knew of that young hero, such behavior was unlike him. But hearts were hidden behind layers of flesh, and this was a matter of life and death...
The mournful howl of the wind had ceased, as though blocked by something.
There stood the figure of a young man, now seemingly more upright, casually drawing a line in the air. Some kind of spatial treasure tore open the void, revealing within it mountains of supplies piled high.
"You’ve waited long, Commander Qu."
It was him. Him, again.
"...You... truly came back?"
Qu Sheng stood dumbfounded, slow to process the reality.
How could he have left alone?
After all, the Frost Fairy was still in the city.