Dao of the Deal 23. Tea (8) (Patreon)

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The next morning saw Muchen dragging himself out of bed well before the sun had risen. It had taken him weeks of living in the Qianzhan Continent to get used to the idea of rising with the sun, but that wouldn't be good enough when he wanted to sell to a target market that would be heading to work by the time the sun was up.

It was hard. The memory of his successful cultivation session was enough of a lure to drag him out of bed, but he still might not have made it if not for all the benefits that even his meager level of cultivation had brought to his physique. Muchen was still far from being able to split a mountain with a punch, or even to do serious damage to a boulder with a sword, but at least he woke up every morning feeling like he had just downed a couple of cups of coffee.

He knew he should be grateful for the improvement and did his best to hold that thought in his mind as he assembled the tools of his trade in the pre-dawn gloom. Once his cart was fully loaded he threw on a cloak to ward off the chill and set off from the Wang family estate. The guards saw him off with silent nods. Nobody wanted to risk waking the main family, after all.

It was an eerie drive through the empty streets of the capital. Muchen had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of a city that rivaled any modern metropolis. This early, the streets were as deserted as any of the country roads he and Xinyi had journeyed down. Here, though, the signs of human habitation made it a bit unsettling to see so few humans up and about.

This was about the right time of day to murder somebody, if you wanted to get away with it. Muchen shook his head and put the morbid thought out of his mind. He'd trained hard enough to be able to defend himself at least a little bit, and he did have his safety talisman with him. He glanced at Xinyi's shell. This early, she had had nothing to say to him when he prepared to go to work, but she was at least still accompanying him.

The darkness made for a bit of fumbling around as Muchen put his stall together, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Soon enough he had a thin coil of smoke rising up from the samovar. His newly repainted menu was on prominent display, and a whole array of freshly cleaned mugs were lined up and ready to be used.

The water started to boil as the sun crested the horizon. Muchen filled up his kettle and started the tea concentrate brewing. He adjusted the air flow to the samovar so the fire mostly died down, keeping the water at a low simmer. Then it was just a matter of waiting for customers to show up.

He didn't have to wait for long before a group of workers appeared out of the darkness, clumped together as they made their way to the docks. Muchen hesitated for a moment, debating how best to lure them to his stall, but found that it was unnecessary. These men were more free than the workers he had dealt with the previous afternoon, and wandered in his direction out of pure curiosity.

A short, wiry man took the lead, moving to the front of the pack and staring at the samovar for a moment before turning his attention to Muchen. "What's all this then?"

"Hot tea, ready in an instant," Muchen said, trotting out the lines with the ease of a day's practice. "A special blend that promotes wakefulness and clear thinking."

"Tea?" the man asked, staring at the samovar skeptically for a moment before nodding as he caught sight of the kettle warming on top of it. "How much?"

Muchen smiled. Once they started talking about the price, he was confident he would be able to close at least one sale.

Over the next few days, Muchen developed a new daily routine. He still wasn't happy to be waking up before the sun was up, but it was a little less painful every day. It helped that he got in the habit of downing a cup of his own product before opening for business every morning.

Even without Xinyi's many years of experience appreciating fine tea, he could tell that what he was making was at best only an approximation of a drink that anybody else would label "tea." That was fine. It wasn't like he was trying to impress anybody with quality.

He did find the early morning crowd to be more receptive to his wares than the afternoon bunch had been. Not enough so for the whole venture to threaten to be profitable just yet, but he at least had to go order a new set of mugs after the third day. He even started to see a few repeat customers who brought their mugs back for the discount. It was heartening to see the nascent stirrings of brand loyalty begin to appear even in this feudal society.

His afternoons were still spent in the Thousand Treasures Hall, digging through the auction hall's records. He was lucky if he found one new lead a day on a potentially useful spirit tool, which was both good and bad. It was good in the sense that he wasn't saddling his future self with the need to track down dozens of spiritual tools. On the down side, spending over twenty five taels of silver to assemble a list with only ten entries on it so far really felt like a waste of money.

Still, what could he do? It wasn't like there was a cheaper source of information out there. And sitting down and reading through the books wasn't entirely unpleasant. If anything, it reminded Muchen of his days studying in school.

Also, while his business wasn't a massive financial success, it was helping his cultivation advance by leaps and bounds. Muchen could feel that he was developing a deeper connection to the capital every day. He was also closing in on clearing out his seventh meridian. Getting past the halfway point would be a big step down the road towards the Foundation Establishment stage.

All in all, life was good. Liling hadn't even seen fit to grace him with her presence since the day she had helped him out with the local government. Muchen had every reasonable expectation that his routine would carry him through until the Long family auction was held, the old man's memorial tablet was taken care of, and he was free to leave the capital.

Unfortunately, his comfortable life was interrupted as he was packing up his stall after his sixth morning of tea sales. A man wearing a hooded cloak approached him, moving through the crowd of workmen like they weren't even there. With every step he took, the rough dockworkers slid out of his way like water parting before the bow of a ship.

Muchen glanced back toward his cart, where his knife was stored behind the driver's seat. After a moment's thought he gave up on the idea and instead greeted the mysterious stranger with his best professional smile. This was the imperial capital. There shouldn't be any need to arm himself for a duel in the streets.

"An interesting business," the man said. Now that he was close Muchen could see the face under the hood. He looked younger than Muchen had expected, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. Of course, the presence of cultivators threw off such estimates. Not that Muchen could identify a cultivator at a glance, but something in the man's eyes convinced him that he was no stranger to violence.

"It's kind of you to say so," Muchen said. He set the cups he'd been clearing away to the side, keeping his hands free. He might not have a weapon on him, but he wasn't completely defenseless.

"Let's be honest," the man said, his words prompting Muchen to cast another longing glance back to his knife, "you're just marking time until the Long family auction begins, aren't you?"

"I'm not sure why you would say that," Muchen replied.

"Why else would you buy the clothes of the family servants?"

Muchen raised an eyebrow. That question dispelled any thought that this was a chance encounter. This man had to have had his eye on him for a while.

"Why does a merchant buy anything? So I can sell it for more silver later," Muchen said. "I'll let you have the lot for fifty taels."

The man seemed to have been caught wrong footed by that. "What need would I have for a bunch of women's clothing?"

"I don't know," Muchen said, shrugging. "You brought it up."

"I didn't—" the man began, before catching himself and taking a deep breath. "You also spend every afternoon at the Thousand Treasures Hall, researching the Long family auction."

Muchen could see how it would appear that way from the outside. After all, he was spending a great deal of time at the auction hall, and by far the biggest upcoming auction was the sale of the Long family's treasures. Naturally, he wasn't going to correct this man's misapprehension.

"You're well informed," Muchen replied.

"More than you know," the man said. He looked around for a moment before leaning in and lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "My name is Heisan. I used to serve the Long family. I was fortunate enough to be away from the city when disaster struck."

Muchen didn't like where this was going. A family with ties to the cultivation world had been executed en masse by the mortal government, most likely at the encouragement of at least one sect. A family that had survived for centuries on the Qianzhan Continent naturally wouldn't have all of its eggs in one basket.

Muchen couldn't say for sure whether some wannabe protagonist was out there on a collision course with the Qianzhan Empire. All that he knew was that he didn't want to be anywhere nearby when the fighting started.

"I don't have any grievance with the Long family," he said, "but I don't want any grievance with the Qianzhan Empire either."

The man laughed. "You misunderstand. The imperial guard seized my savings from the Long family estate along with everything else. Naturally, I didn't get a final payment for all the work I'd been doing, either."

None of what he was saying made Muchen think he had any less of a grudge against the emperor.

"I worked for the Long family for years," the man continued. "I know which of the true family treasures have been put up for auction with ordinary jewelry and the like."

Muchen relaxed. From everything he'd been told, he didn't think that Heisan intended to pick a fight. He may well intend to scam Muchen out of his hard earned silver, of course, but that was a problem he could think over in due time, as long as he didn't have a sword at his neck.

"You want me to buy your secrets?" Muchen asked, before gesturing at his stall. "I don't have that much silver to throw around."

"I need a partner," Heisan replied. "We each put up half of the money and split the treasures fifty-fifty."

"A generous split," Muchen said. "I must confess that I don't see what I'm bringing to the table in this proposed partnership.

The Qianzhan Continent was a fantastical place, but even so Muchen was skeptical of the idea that a stranger had approached him and offered to dig up riches for him without accruing any benefit for himself. The laws of physics might be optional for some, but as far as he could tell the laws of supply and demand and human nature held true for even the mightiest cultivators.

"If I put in a bid myself," Heisan said, "others will realize that there is more to those items than meets the eye."

Muchen studied the man in front of him. From the lean muscle on his body to the way he held himself ready for a fight, Heisan was obviously no stranger to violence. Nothing about him suggested he was capable of running a con. Of course, the most important skill for any capable swindler was to appear incapable of swindling. Muchen couldn't draw a conclusion from appearance alone.

His words did make sense. Assuming that his association with the Long family was well known, other bidders would assume that he held inside information. They might not be able to pry the information out of him, but they could at least prevent him from taking advantage by bidding vigorously for any item that he showed interest in.

Muchen immediately discarded the idea that Heisan was a plant from the Thousands Treasure Hall. They didn't need any such artificial boost to stimulate bidding. Their reputation alone was enough to ensure that plenty of silver came flowing through the front door any time they held an auction.

"I'll consider your offer," Muchen said. The look Heisan gave him in reply nearly had Muchen take a step back towards where he had stashed his knife. Instead, he held up his hands in a placating gesture. "My silver wasn't blown to my door by the wind. If I'm going to invest in this plan of yours, I need to think it over first."

Heisan held his eyes for a moment before giving him a curt nod. "I'll speak with you tomorrow."

With that, he spun on his heel and walked off. By the time he was half a block away he somehow managed to blend in with the crowd. Muchen shook his head and went back to packing up his stall.

"You did well to negotiate with that one," Xinyi said.

Muchen gave her a surprised glance. Her shell, of course, didn't reveal anything. "He's that dangerous?"

Xinyi didn't reply as he finished loading the cart. Muchen boarded the driver's seat and urged Huichen into motion, heading down the well-practiced route to the Thousand Treasures Hall.

"Killing him would probably raise a fuss," Xinyi said.

That was the closest she'd come to admitting that somebody might be hard to kill. Muchen gave Heisan's danger rating in his head a few more points. Well, on the bright side, anybody that capable probably wouldn't bother trying to scam him out of a few taels of silver.

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