The eastern horizon was just beginning to bleed gold and violet as the sun crested over the distant spirit mountains, chasing away the shadows of the night.
The Black-Iron Wood carriage did not queue with the sleepy merchants and rogue cultivators waiting for the main gates to open. Instead, it veered toward the eastern wall, approaching the massive Dragon Gate.
This entrance was reserved exclusively for the Aristocratic Clans. The guards, seeing the golden phoenix crest of the Jin Clan shimmering on the carriage door, didn't dare ask for identification. They bowed low, their spears clattering against their armor.
Without slowing down, the carriage swept through the gate, the wheels rumbling smoothly over the spirit-paved roads.
Inside, Shen Yu pushed aside the silver silk curtains.
The wind of the city rushed in, a mixture of incense, roasting street food, and the faint, metallic tang of spiritual iron. He looked out at Thousand Waves City, watching the morning mist cling to the tiled roofs of the pagodas and the golden light reflect off the elaborate canal system that cut through the districts like arteries.
"Prosperous," he murmured, his golden eyes scanning the sprawling urban jungle.
To a normal person, it was a bustling metropolis. To Shen Yu, it was a hunting ground teeming with resources to be plundered.
He let the curtain fall and turned his attention back to Meng Yan.
The Matriarch sat rigidly against the cushions. The feverish flush was still high on her cheeks, but her posture had changed. The trembling uncertainty of the forest was gone, replaced by the steel-spined resolve of a woman who had weighed her options and accepted her fate.
She looked determined. She looked like a ruler preparing to sign a treaty she didn't want to, but knew she needed.
Shen Yu studied her for a moment, savoring the sight, before breaking the silence.
"So, Senior... have you decided what you are going to choose?"
Meng Yan met his gaze head-on. She tried to project authority, to hide the shameful, liquid lust that had been pooling in her belly since his hand left her skin, but her eyes betrayed her. They were too wet, too dark.
"I have," she said, her voice steady but lacking its usual imperious edge. "I value my life, Young Master Tang. And I value the future of the Jin Clan. If this... manual treatment... is the only way to suppress the fire until the pill is ready, then I am okay with it. You can cure me."
Shen Yu's face broke into a smile, bright, innocent, and blindingly pure. It was the smile of a saint relieved to see a patient choose life.
"I am glad," he said softly. "I am glad you are prioritizing yourself, Senior. It would be a tragedy to see such a beautiful person fade away into history."
'Got you,' his inner voice whispered, a dark, predatory grin stretching across his soul. 'The fish has swallowed the hook. Now, I just have to reel her in slow.'
He didn't care about history. He cared that he was about to have a Golden Core Matriarch at his mercy, dependent on his touch for her very survival.
Then, the atmosphere in the carriage shifted.
Shen Yu sat up straighter. The innocent, concerned doctor vanished. In his place sat a man with the shrewd, calculating air of a professional merchant.
"Now that it is decided," Shen Yu said, his tone business-like and brisk, "we need to discuss the price."
Meng Yan blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. "The... price?"
"Of course," Shen Yu nodded, dusting off his sleeves. "I am a healer, Senior Meng, but I am also a pragmatist. The manual dredging technique consumes a significant amount of my mental energy and focus. Furthermore, silence is a commodity."
He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers.
"If I were to offer this to you for free, Senior... you would not trust me."
Meng Yan opened her mouth to argue, then closed it.
He was right.
In the world of cultivation, nothing was free. Kindness was usually a mask for a trap. If he had offered to touch her intimately and cure her without asking for anything in return, she would have spent the next month looking over her shoulder, wondering what his true angle was. Was he a spy? Was he trying to blackmail her?
But greed? Greed, she understood. Greed was transactional. Greed was safe.
If he wanted payment, then this was just business. It allowed her to frame the upcoming sessions not as a depraved submission to a young man's lust, but as a purchase of services.
She felt a wave of relief wash over her, her guard lowering significantly.
"You are surprisingly wise for your age, Young Master Tang," Meng Yan said, regaining some of her composure. She smoothed her crimson robes, the fabric rustling softly in the quiet carriage. "Very well. The Jin Clan is not poor. Name your price."
Shen Yu's smile remained, but the warmth in it evaporated, leaving only a sharp, mercantile edge.
"First, the suppression therapy," he began, ticking off the points on his fingers. "I will perform the manual dredging technique three times a week. It requires significant mental exertion to control the flow of Yin Qi without damaging your meridians. Therefore, each session will cost ten thousand low-grade spirit stones. Or, if you prefer, one hundred mid-grade stones."
Meng Yan didn't even blink.
Ten thousand low-grade spirit stones were a significant sum, roughly ten percent of the clan's weekly net profit from the markets, but to a Golden Core cultivator facing a gruesome death, it was dust.
"Agreed," she said instantly. "I will have the treasurer prepare the funds after each session."
"Excellent," Shen Yu nodded. "That covers the suppression. But for the permanent cure... for the brewing of the Nine-Yin Reversal Elixir... I require a specific payment upon completion."
"Name it."
Shen Yu leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried the weight of a heavy stone.
"I want the Astral Mending Herb."