Price Hikes.
Host: Zhong Lin
Skills:
Archery (Max Level)
Flying Locust Stone (Max Level)
Realistic Painting (Max Level)
Calligraphy (Max Level)
Culinary Arts (Max Level)
Iron Mountain Strength Technique (Max Level)
Instant Kill Technique (Max Level)
Black Tiger Fist (Max Level)
Willow Catkin Footwork (Max Level)
Wind-Splitting Blade Technique (Max Level)
Skill Points: ∞
Looking at the densely packed list of skills on his system panel, Zhong Lin felt a kind of satisfaction, like a hamster hoarding food.
The Black Tiger Fist was a martial arts manual he had looted from the mountain bandit known as "Mountain Tiger." He had left it untouched for a while since he couldn't read the characters, only to later realize it was just an ordinary martial arts technique, nowhere near as powerful as Iron Mountain Strength Technique.
Since Little Shi had always been pestering him to learn martial arts, Zhong Lin decided to record it into the system panel—it would be a good skill to teach him.
Then, Zhong Lin picked up his Ghost-Headed Saber and practiced the Wind-Splitting Blade Technique. Although the system panel could inject martial arts experience into him, full mastery still required hands-on practice.
This blade technique balanced speed and power—the faster the slash, the heavier the impact. When fully mastered, a single strike could take off a person's head.
Well, maybe not that exaggerated.
After maxing out the skill with his system points, Zhong Lin saw it more as a refined blade-wielding technique rather than the over-the-top moves found in fantasy novels. It wasn't like he could swing his blade and send energy waves slicing through the air. Martial artists below the
After practicing both his blade and footwork techniques for a while, Zhong Lin headed to the Eastern Market, greeting the residents of Sweetwater Alley along the way.
But something felt off.
"Why does it seem like there are more refugees than before?"
Zhong Lin noticed an increasing number of people in tattered clothing, wandering. He frowned slightly.
Having been a refugee himself, fleeing with Little Shi, he was particularly sensitive to these things.
While Heishan County saw a daily influx of refugees, they were usually absorbed into the workforce—some ended up as dock laborers, some were bought by wealthy families, and some were recruited into the military. However, in recent days, their numbers have surged to a concerning level, even affecting public security.
After all, more refugees meant more beggars and more petty thieves.
At the Butcher's Stall
"Old Liang, same as usual—five pounds of pork belly, three pounds of fatty pork, three pounds of lean pork."
Zhong Lin called out to the butcher, Liang.
"Oh! Young Master Zhong is here! Haven't seen you in a few days. I just butchered a fresh grass-fed pig, and I saved the pig ears for you, knowing you like them."
"Great! What are you waiting for? Cut them up!"
Zhong Lin smacked down coins on the counter.
Meat was expensive—lean cuts went for thirty copper coins per pound, and fatty cuts were even pricier at forty-five copper coins per pound. The amount he was buying could feed an average household for half a month.
However, Liang didn't take the money immediately. He chuckled and said, "Young Master Zhong, uh… this isn't enough."
"What?"
"The price of meat went up. Not just me—every butcher's stall raised their prices. Even coarse rice at the grain shop is going for ten copper coins per pound now."
Zhong Lin's brows furrowed. "Ten copper per pound? Are you sure?"
Coarse rice, which retained the whole grain after husking, was less refined but cheap—normally only five copper per pound. Now, the price had doubled?
"Why would I lie to you? The grain shop even posted the new prices. Yesterday it was still eight copper per pound, but today it jumped to ten. Nothing we can do—the price of meat has to follow."
"Why such a steep increase?"
"No idea. They say things are getting chaotic outside. You work for the government—you should know better than me."
"Like hell I do."
Zhong Lin waved away his irritation. "Fine, just cut the meat. You'll get your money."
As Liang quickly sliced and bundled the meat, Zhong Lin paid and told him he'd pick it up later. Then, he turned and left.
Walking through the streets, he saw the increasing numbers of refugees and knew something serious was happening outside.
Since he had transmigrated into this world, it had only rained once—a sign that the drought wasn't ending. If anything, it was getting worse.
Passing by the grain shop, Zhong Lin glanced at the price board.
Coarse rice wasn't ten copper per pound—it was twelve.
"This is getting out of hand. If grain prices keep rising, something big is about to happen."
His heart sank.
Food was the foundation of life. When people couldn't afford to eat, chaos was inevitable.
At Xu's Medical Clinic
This was the clinic where Zhong Lin often bought Eight-Treasure Blood Nourishing Soup. But today, it wasn't just filled with patients—there were some unfamiliar faces.
Inside, Doctor Xu Le Wu handed over twelve large copper coins to a man called Huang Ye.
Huang Ye took the money, weighed it in his hand, and smirked. "Good, good. But the boss says starting this month, protection fees are going up by twenty percent."
"Twenty percent?!"
Doctor Xu flared up with anger, nearly ready to throw a punch. But upon seeing Huang Ye's towering frame, he reluctantly pulled out three more coins from his pouch, his face twitching in pain.
"That easy? I thought I'd have to 'convince' you first." Huang Ye chuckled.
Most shopkeepers either cried poverty or tried to argue, only to be beaten into submission. He was surprised at how cooperative Xu was.
"You must be making a fortune lately, Doc."
Doctor Xu forced a bitter smile. "Where would an old man like me find fortune? You know everything that happens on this street—if I were rich, could I hide it from you?"
"True enough."
Huang Ye grinned, stuffing the money into his cloth bag before swaggering out with his lackeys.
At that moment, Zhong Lin stepped inside the clinic, watching Huang Ye leave.
His gaze darkened. "Huang Sheng from the
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