Shopkeeper Wu, who had always maintained a composed demeanor, approached him with a furrowed brow. "Young Master Zhao, Master Murong is waiting for you in his study. He said it’s urgent."
Zhao Ming nodded and quickly made his way through the estate. When he entered the study, Murong De was seated at his desk, poring over several ledgers and reports. He looked up, his expression grim but focused.
"You’re back," Murong De said, setting down a scroll. "What did the governor say?"
Zhao Ming took a seat across from him. "Governor Kong acknowledges the situation. He agrees that Beihai must prepare for the worst. He also intends to mobilize the merchants and the military to ensure stability. The governor wants each trading house to stockpile supplies—food, medicine, and weapons—before things spiral out of control."
Murong De exhaled, leaning back in his chair. "I expected as much."
Zhao Ming hesitated for a moment before voicing his concern. "But will the other merchants follow suit?" His expression was serious. "Stockpiling supplies means cutting into their profits, and some might refuse unless they see a direct benefit. If they delay, Beihai could be in trouble before any real preparations are made."
Murong De smirked, though his eyes remained sharp. "Wang and Liu will cooperate—but only to the extent that it benefits them. They’ll likely stockpile the bare minimum to support the governor while prioritizing their private forces and properties. Their focus will be on self-preservation."
Zhao Ming frowned. "If they’re more concerned about their own assets than Beihai’s security, it could make things more difficult."
"That’s how merchants operate," Murong De said, shrugging. "Profit first, everything else second."
"And Lady Yu?" Zhao Ming asked, recalling her sharp mind and keen business acumen.
Murong De's expression softened slightly. "She'll help the governor more than anyone else. Beihai is her home, and she has personal reasons for wanting to protect it."
Zhao Ming raised an eyebrow. "Personal reasons?"
Murong De chuckled. "That’s something you should ask her yourself. If she wants to tell you, she will."
Zhao Ming sighed, realizing that Murong De wouldn’t elaborate further. Instead, he shifted the topic. "And what about Murong Trading House?"
Murong De’s gaze hardened. "We’ll help—but on our own terms. Unlike the others, we need to split our forces. A crisis is an opportunity, Zhao Ming. While we support Beihai, we must also ensure our own interests remain intact. If war comes, our trade in horses, metalwork, and weapons will become even more valuable."
"But at the same time, we need to protect our people first. If our supply routes are compromised or our warehouses targeted, all the profits in the world won’t matter," he continued.
Zhao Ming nodded, understanding the delicate balance Murong De was trying to maintain. "So while the governor secures Beihai, we need to secure Murong Trading House’s assets."
Murong De smirked. "Exactly. I’ll begin organizing the necessary preparations immediately. We’ll send scouts to track movements near Langya and beyond. I want to know if the rebels are planning to push toward Beihai."
Zhao Ming felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "If the rebels do move toward Beihai, we’ll have more than just refugees to worry about."
Murong De’s expression darkened. "That’s why we need to be ready before it’s too late."
For a moment, silence filled the room. Then Murong De stood up, rolling his shoulders. "Enough talking. You did well bringing this to the governor’s attention. Now, let’s see how Beihai prepares for the storm ahead."
Zhao Ming exhaled, feeling the tension in the air. War was looming on the horizon, and he had no choice but to be ready for what was to come.
Zhao Ming wanted to say more. The way Murong De approached this crisis—balancing profit and security—made him uneasy. Beihai’s situation was growing more dangerous by the day, and while Murong Trading House had the power to make a difference, it was clear that Murong De prioritized his own interests first.
Yet, no matter how much he wanted to argue, he reminded himself of his position. At the end of the day, he was still just a guest here. Murong De was the head of the trading house, and Zhao Ming had no real authority to dictate how things should be run. His relationship with Murong Xue gave him some influence, but it wasn’t enough to change Murong De’s mind.
With a quiet sigh, he excused himself and returned to his room.
Just as he sat down, a familiar chime echoed in his mind.
Ding!
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
[System Notification: Update Complete]
Zhao Ming blinked in surprise. He had almost forgotten that the system had gone into an upgrade earlier.
[Reminder: The system exists to assist the host accordingly. However, the path forward is determined by the host’s own choices.]
[Like how the host currently disagrees with Murong Trading House’s handling of this crisis—whether to accept it or take matters into his own hands is entirely up to the host.]
[The system will provide quests and rewards accordingly, but ultimately, the world moves based on the host’s decisions.]
Zhao Ming’s eyes narrowed as he read the message. The system wasn’t forcing him down any particular route—it was simply reacting to how he navigated the world. If he didn’t like how things were unfolding, it was up to him to change them.
He leaned back against his chair, deep in thought.
Murong Trading House was powerful, but it wasn’t invincible. If the rebels moved aggressively, Beihai could fall into chaos. The governor would do his part, but that alone wouldn’t be enough. The merchants had their own interests, and even Murong De was only willing to help as long as it didn’t endanger his business.
Zhao Ming clenched his fists.
If he wanted to ensure Beihai’s survival—not just for the city, but for himself, Murong Xue, and the people caught in the conflict—he would need to act.
But how?
The system remained silent, as if waiting for his decision.
For now, he needed rest. But tomorrow… tomorrow, he would start planning.
The Murong Trading House was bustling with activity. The clang of weapons echoed from the training grounds as guards honed their skills. Workers rushed back and forth, moving crates of supplies, while clerks scribbled down records of stockpiles and transactions. The entire estate pulsed with urgency, preparing for whatever turmoil lay ahead.
Standing by the courtyard, Zhao Ming watched it all unfold. Yet, despite the hive of activity around him, his mind felt clouded.
Murong De’s approach still troubled him. Was this truly the best way forward? Or was there more they could do?
“Something on your mind, Young Master Zhao?”
Zhao Ming turned to see Shopkeeper Wu approaching, a knowing smile on his face.
He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”
Shopkeeper Wu chuckled. “I’ve been in this trade for decades, boy. I can recognize a troubled mind when I see one.” He stroked his beard. “A leader who hesitates at a time like this is either thinking too much or not enough. Which one are you?”
Zhao Ming sighed. “It’s just… this crisis. The rebels, the refugees, the food shortages. We’re preparing, yes, but is it enough? Shouldn’t we be doing more?”
Shopkeeper Wu’s expression softened. “A good question. But let me ask you this—what does it mean to do ‘more’?”
Zhao Ming frowned, thinking.
The old shopkeeper continued, “Murong De is the head of this house. His first duty is to his people—the merchants, the workers, the guards who rely on him. If he overextends, if he sacrifices too much, then what happens to them? Who will protect them?”
Zhao Ming fell silent.
Shopkeeper Wu sighed. “We can’t save everyone, Young Master Zhao. That’s the bitter truth of times like these. We help where we can, but we must also know our limits. If we fall, we can’t help anyone at all.”
Zhao Ming exhaled slowly. The words made sense. He had been so focused on what should be done that he hadn’t considered what could realistically be done.
After a moment, he bowed slightly. “I understand now. Thank you, Shopkeeper Wu.”
The older man grinned. “Good. But don’t just sit around thinking all day. Go take a walk around Beihai—clear your mind. You might even find some new solutions while you’re at it.”
Zhao Ming nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’ll do that.”
As he turned to leave, Shopkeeper Wu let out a hearty chuckle. “Oh, and one more thing!”
Zhao Ming glanced back.
With a sly smirk, the shopkeeper added, “It’s my duty to help the future son-in-law of the Murong family, after all.”
Zhao Ming nearly tripped over his own feet. “Wha—”
But Shopkeeper Wu had already walked away, laughing to himself.
Zhao Ming shook his head, letting out a small chuckle of his own.
Perhaps this walk would do him some good.
The market streets of Beihai bustled with life, yet an uneasy atmosphere lingered beneath the surface. Merchants called out their wares, customers haggled over prices, but there was tension in the air—subtle, but present.
Zhao Ming walked leisurely, stopping at different stalls to purchase a few snacks. Along the way, he struck up conversations with the vendors, trying to gauge the mood of the city.
A fruit vendor, an older man with a thick beard, handed him a few dried persimmons. "You're Murong's young guest, aren't you? Haven't seen you around much before."
Zhao Ming smiled. "Just looking around. How’s business these days?"
The vendor sighed. "Still making coin, but things feel different. More people coming in, fewer going out. Beihai’s filling up fast, and not all of them have the money to spend."
A nearby noodle shop owner, a stocky man with flour-covered hands, wiped his apron. "These refugees... you can't blame 'em, but they're making things harder for everyone. The governor’s trying to keep order, but how long can that last? Hungry men get desperate."
The spice merchant, a sharp-eyed woman, scoffed. "It’s not just that. You’ve got nobles hoarding supplies, merchants too scared to take risks, and common folk stuck in between. Only Lady Yu’s been doing anything meaningful to help."
Zhao Ming’s mind turned to what Murong De had said earlier. Lady Yu had her own reasons for caring about Beihai—he’d have to ask her about it sometime.
Just as he was considering his next question, he felt a small tug at his sleeve.
He turned his head and found himself looking down at a little girl—no older than six—her large, dark eyes locked onto the bag of snacks in his hand. Her clothes were slightly tattered, and her small fingers gripped his sleeve hesitantly.
One of the vendors gave him a knowing look. "Be careful, young master. Some of these refugee kids are little thieves."
Zhao Ming ignored the comment and activated [Insight].
Xu Mei. Girl. 6 years old.
Status: Hungry and Lost.
His gaze softened.
Zhao Ming crouched down. "Are you hungry?"
The girl hesitated, then gave a small nod.
Without a word, Zhao Ming reached into his bag and pulled out a fresh sesame bun, handing it to her.
The girl took it carefully, as if expecting it to be snatched away. When she saw that Zhao Ming wasn’t going to take it back, she bit into it, chewing slowly.
A few of the vendors watched with mild curiosity. One of them, the fruit seller, shook his head. "Young master, you have a kind heart, but you can’t help them all."
Zhao Ming didn’t reply right away. Instead, he observed the little girl as she ate, her small hands clutching the bun tightly.
"Where are your parents?" he asked.
The girl swallowed and pointed toward the city gate.
Zhao Ming frowned slightly. "They’re outside the gate?"
She nodded again.
Letting out a small sigh, Zhao Ming stood up. He had planned to clear his mind with a simple walk, but it seemed fate had other plans.
"Come on," he said, extending a hand. "Let’s go find them."
The little girl hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, her grip light but trusting.
As Zhao Ming led her through the market, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a much bigger problem.
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