“All right.” Yue Shan nodded and turned to leave.

“Miss Jiu’er, be careful!” Long Qi left those words behind and turned his horse toward another direction.

Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu continued forward; Jian Yi and Feng Yinan were left behind.

Sometimes having too many people around wasn’t good for getting things done — it could even cause unnecessary trouble.

Feng Jiu’er, Qiaomu, Jian Yi, and Feng Yinan were all unfamiliar faces in this place, which was why Feng Jiu’er had asked Yue Shan and Long Qi to leave.

Especially Yue Shan, someone who had lived in the area for years.

Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu rode their horses straight to the grain shop.

They didn’t go straight into the shop the two men had entered; instead, they circled through a neighboring shop first before coming out, leading their horses to another one.

Feng Jiu’er went in and reached out to grab a pinch of flour.

“Qiao, I think the flour here is better than next door.”

“Let me see.” Qiaomu leaned in too. “Looks decent. Let’s check the rice.”

She straightened up and walked toward the two men.

“Which kind of rice did you buy? Is it good?”

One of the men turned his head and glanced at Qiaomu.

“Well, if it isn’t a great beauty.” The man smiled.

Qiaomu looked at him, frowned slightly, and turned to grab a handful of rice herself to examine.

“Honored guests, this rice is excellent — these two gentlemen just took ten sacks at once,” the shopkeeper said, walking over with a grin.

At the counter, a woman was still doing some calculations.

The other man took out his money pouch, ready to pay.

“Ten sacks?” Qiaomu looked at the man beside her, frowning slightly. “Didn’t expect you to be so well-off.”

“Ten sacks is nothing — if I could carry more, I’d want a hundred,” the man said proudly.

When he got a clear look at the other woman, the light in his eyes grew even brighter.

“When did our town get two such stunning women?”

Qiaomu was already quite good-looking, but Feng Jiu’er was even more beautiful — without question, a beauty rarely seen in a hundred years.

“You are…” Feng Jiu’er’s gaze swept over to the neck of the man paying, not far away.

“Bandits? From that stronghold with ‘Dragon’ in the name?”

“That’s right!” the man said, looking at Feng Jiu’er, eyes lighting up — where would he even find the time to be on guard?

“We’re from Panlong Stronghold, but we’re not bandits. We’re all good people.”

“Bandits, and good people too?” Feng Jiu’er raised an eyebrow. “That’s the first time I’ve heard of such a thing.”

If the situation weren’t so delicate, Qiaomu would have rolled her eyes — since when were there no good people among bandits? Wasn’t she one? Weren’t her brothers?

This little brat had been using them for who knows how long, and still dared to say such a thing?

Feng Jiu’er hooked her arm through Qiaomu’s, as if to comfort her.

Wasn’t the girl just trying to draw him out? Big Sister Qiao was clever enough to understand that, wasn’t she?

Qiaomu looked at the girl’s twinkling eyes and decided not to argue with her for now.

“I said, we’re not bandits.” The man stared unblinkingly at Feng Jiu’er, the smile on his face deepening.

“Our Panlong Stronghold started out as bandits, but we’re different now from how we used to be.”

Feng Jiu’er glanced at the pile of rice, her expression softening a little.

“Seems that way. Aren’t bandits supposed to rob for money and grain?”

“You don’t rob anymore, and you come out to buy things properly now?”

“That’s right.” The man’s face was full of smug pride.

This was the first time he’d felt that coming out to buy rice was such an honorable thing.

“So you’re saying Panlong Stronghold isn’t a mountain bandit den anymore?” Feng Jiu’er asked, her crescent brows furrowed.

“It’s still a stronghold,” the man said softly, “but we’re not bandits.”

“We don’t belong to any city — we have our own way of life.”

“Your own way of life?” Feng Jiu’er’s brows lifted, seeming quite interested in this.

“That’s right.” The light in the man’s eyes only grew brighter.

Such a beautiful woman — the first time in his life he’d ever encountered one like her.

“So you really don’t rob anymore?” Feng Jiu’er looked him up and down.

The man straightened his back and shook his head: “No more robbing.”

“Then what do you live on?” Feng Jiu’er said, sounding unconvinced.

The man frowned, then said: “Well, it’s not that we never rob at all — why not take ill-gotten wealth when we find it?”

“But mostly, our income is legitimate. We —”

“A’Cai!” The man who’d been paying turned around, staring at the one still talking.

Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu both looked up at once, watching the man approach.

This man was even colder and sharper-looking than the first; he clearly wasn’t so easy to fool.

The man reluctantly withdrew his gaze from Feng Jiu’er and turned to look at his companion.

“Brother Yong, all done?”

“Mn.” Brother Yong nodded. “Load it on the cart, let’s go back.”

With that, he tossed the words out, picked up two sacks of rice in one hand and slung them over his shoulder, then grabbed two more sacks with the other.

Just like that, he carried six sacks of rice away, not even sparing Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu a glance.

Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu couldn’t help but marvel — Brother Yong really lived up to his name: cold, indifferent, and a man of few words.

Both of them knew there was no way to get anything out of this man called Brother Yong, so they turned their attention to the one called A’Cai.

A’Cai, perhaps realizing he’d talked too much, glanced once more at Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu before grabbing two sacks of rice with one hand.

He carried the four sacks lightly, passing by Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu.

“Hey.” Suddenly, Feng Jiu’er nodded her head.

A’Cai immediately stopped, turning his head to look at her: “What’s your name?”

Feng Jiu’er blinked, raised an eyebrow, and instead asked: “What did you say your legitimate income was, just now?”

“Herbs,” A’Cai said.

Before he could say anything more, Brother Yong’s booming voice came through.

“Not coming yet?”

“Coming.” A’Cai flashed a smile at Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu, quickening his pace.

Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu exchanged a glance; once the men outside pushed their cart away, both of them, without a word, walked out as well.

“Jiu’er, do you think they might be growing herbs somewhere on some enclosed land…”

“And then bringing them to town to sell,” Feng Jiu’er finished for her.

“Mn.” Qiaomu nodded.

She watched the cart and the men disappear into the distance, and asked: “Should we follow them?”

Feng Jiu’er shook her head, then waved a hand.

Feng Yinan, not far away, led his horse and came over.

“Jiu’er.”

“Tell Yue Shan to check the herbalist shops in town, see if any of them have records of trading medicinal herbs with Panlong Stronghold,” Feng Jiu’er said.

Panlong Stronghold was close to three cities; they might not necessarily choose Yue City to trade in, but it wasn’t impossible either.

Perhaps all three cities were possibilities.

“All right.” Feng Yinan nodded.

“We’re going to go check out the forest now. You go find Long Qi and come along with him,” Feng Jiu’er instructed again.

“All right.” Feng Yinan nodded, turned, and mounted his horse.

Feng Jiu’er and Qiaomu led their own horses, walking along unhurriedly.

They appeared to be just strolling about, but in truth, they never let the man pushing the rice cart out of their sight.