Chapter 13: Stirring the Nest
By the time the sun tilted westward, the village market had reached its liveliest hour. Children ran laughing between stalls, women haggled for spices, and the smell of steamed dumplings wafted through the air.
Su Yanyue's stall, modest though it was, stood out like a jewel. Her layout was clean, the products well-labeled, and the faint scent of herbs mixed with roasted nuts made many linger longer than they meant to.
It was exactly this growing attention that caught the wrong pair of eyes.
A squat, thick-browed man wearing a dark brown apron stomped toward her stall. Behind him trailed his two sons, both stocky and scowling.
"You again!" the man barked, slapping a calloused hand on the edge of her table.
Su Yanyue looked up calmly. "Can I help you?"
"I've been selling herbs in this market for five years. Now all my customers are runnin' off to you like ducks to rice! You think you can just stroll in and steal business?"
Yanyue remained seated, voice even. "The villagers buy what helps them. I never forced anyone."
The man jabbed a thick finger toward her neat bundles of pain relief salves. "That balm of yours—it's not even properly certified! You could kill someone with it!"
Before she could reply, Yu Shiming stepped out from behind her stall like a looming shadow, his expression unreadable but his presence sharp.
"You saying someone's died?" he asked coolly.
The man's mouth twitched. "N-No… but it's dangerous! She's not registered with the herbal guild!"
Shen Liye appeared at the edge of the crowd, hands behind his back, watching silently.
"The herbal guild doesn't operate in this village," Su Yanyue replied smoothly. "And if you're confident in your own goods, why fear a little competition?"
The man's face flushed red. "You—!"
A small group of regular customers had gathered, watching the exchange. One old woman called out, "Miss Su's balm fixed my joints better than your stinky oils ever did!"
"She cured my son's fever when no one else could!" another shouted.
The man's face twisted in frustration. "This is unfair!"
At that, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"If a single woman selling dried fruits and salves threatens your whole business, perhaps it isn't her you should be angry at—but your own lack of skill."
Shen Liye stepped forward now, smiling gently. "Master Wang, wasn't it? You've had enough chances. Let others rise. Or must we involve the local magistrate?"
Master Wang spluttered, but seeing the gathered crowd and the subtle gleam of authority in Shen Liye's eyes, he cursed under his breath and turned away, barking at his sons to follow.
The tension slowly melted.
Yanyue let out a slow breath. "Thank you."
Shen Liye gave a soft smile. "It's the duty of a gentleman to protect the fair."
Yu Shiming, who had remained stone-still, finally moved—taking a small wooden pestle and quietly grinding dried leaves beside her, completely ignoring Shen Liye's presence.
Yanyue, amused, bent closer to murmur, "You're not going to say anything?"
"I didn't see a threat," Yu Shiming said simply. "If he tried to touch you, I'd have broken his arm."
Her breath caught slightly at the way he said it—casual, unruffled, but laced with steel.
"…You really have no middle ground, do you?"
"No." He glanced at her. "Especially not when it comes to you."