250: Chapter 250 The Chamber of Commerce Arrives, the Promotion Comes to a Close

Four days after Chu Yunfei sent the communication talisman, two merchant flying ships passed through the Haiyuan Clan blockade.

The first flying ship came from the Tiangong Pavilion in the Royal Capital—the ship's hull bore a family crest of a crossed golden hammer and silver anvil. The defensive Array Patterns on the prow had three cracks scraped into them by bone spur fragments while passing through the blockade. The copper wires at the edges of the cracks were frayed, but the hull remained intact. Tiangong Pavilion was the Royal Capital's largest supplier of Artifact Refining Materials—their flying ships could navigate the wartime-controlled waters because they possessed a special passage permit issued by the Military Logistics Department.

The second flying ship was smaller than the first—there were no markings on its hull, but the density of the defensive Array Patterns on the ship's bottom was a level higher than those of the Tiangong Pavilion's ship. The person who stepped out of the cabin door was not wearing merchant robes, but casual attire, and there was no family crest on his sleeves. However, when the Steward of Tiangong Pavilion saw him disembark, he voluntarily took a step back, letting him go first. Such concessions only happened when facing people with backgrounds from auction houses—the Royal Capital Auction House didn't sell goods; they only set prices. And pricing power was greater than anything else.

The Tiangong Pavilion steward was surnamed Zhong—a Late Foundation Establishment Stage Cultivator. He wore at least five storage rings of different grades on his fingers, each inlaid with spirit light gems of different colors. After disembarking, he stood on the Pier for a few breaths—scanning the densely packed exploration registration lists on the bulletin board, the piles of Cold Iron Ore stacked beside the grading platform, and the Loose Cultivator expedition teams still unloading cargo onto the shore—then he moved his hand away from his storage rings.

"Chu Yunfei—what you said is true. It really isn't a ruined outpost." He returned Chu Yunfei's communication talisman to him—"But you didn't tell me when you sent the message that the Ore on the Pier was measured in piles, not baskets."

When Steward Zhong walked into the warehouse—he saw at least seven or eight piles of Ore categorized by grade. Dark gray Cold Iron raw Ore occupied three piles—the High Grade ones had a very high density of silver veins. Medium Grade accounted for nearly half the volume, while Low Grade was just a small pile in the corner. The star-patterned gold was locked separately in an array-sealed wooden box. When Su Qingli opened the box to show him, the golden fragmented light leaked out from the seams, shining onto the gems on his storage rings—the light reflected by the gems was paler than the color of the gems themselves. The broken branches of Ghost Light Coral were piled in a separate shallow basket—the fragments glowed green in the dark. The outer walls of the mutated black mother-of-pearl shells were embedded with extremely fine silver spiral patterns—the patterns did not reflect light in the daylight, but in the dark, they emitted a very faint fluorescence from inside the shell. There was also a pile of unclassified, unknown deep-sea spirit Ore—Commander Cai had inserted a temporary label written in charcoal pencil on the side of the basket: 'To be identified—grade undetermined.'

Steward Zhong examined every pile of Ore. The way he looked at the Ore was different from the Loose Cultivators—he didn't squat down to rummage through it or hold it up to the daylight—instead, he took out a short copper rod from his storage ring and gently tapped the fracture surface of the Ore with the tip. The other end of the copper rod was embedded with a tiny induction array chip. After the array chip touched the Ore, it would emit spirit light of different colors. Dark gray was Cold Iron—dark gold was star-patterned gold—dark green was Ghost Light Coral—dark blue was mutated mother-of-pearl—each color corresponded to a specific spirit power frequency. The induction array chip at the tip of the copper rod was a professional tool used by Artifact Refiners to identify Ore grades—it didn't damage the Ore, didn't consume spirit power, and didn't make mistakes.

"High Grade Cold Iron—I'll buy it at nearly eighty percent of the Royal Capital Auction House's public price. It will be settled in Spirit Stone but a portion must be deducted and exchanged for array base repair Materials. You need these things." He retracted the copper rod—"star-patterned gold—this cannot be calculated at eighty percent. This item hasn't been seen on the market for nearly two hundred years, so there is no public price. I'll name a number—at least five times the price of Cold Iron Ore of the same weight. The Ghost Light Coral and mutated mother-of-pearl—we will negotiate the price for each separately, based on their quality and grade."

He turned his head to glance at the middle-aged Cultivator in casual attire behind him. The casual-attired Cultivator hadn't said a word since arriving on the island—he had been scanning with his eyes the whole time. Scanning the warehouse, the piles of Ore, the exploration registration column on the bulletin board, and the expedition teams still surfacing at the Pier. He was a pricing expert from the Royal Capital Auction House—he wasn't responsible for signing contracts, only for quoting prices. His quote would be the starting bid for the Royal Capital Auction House's next quarterly auction.

"star-patterned gold—starting bid of two to three hundred Mid-Grade Spirit Stones per tael. High Grade Cold Iron—thirty to fifty Low-Grade Spirit Stones per catty, depending on the density of the silver veins. Ghost Light Coral, whole stalks over a hundred years old—at least one thousand Low-Grade Spirit Stones per stalk. Broken branches will be valued individually based on quality."

Steward Zhong nodded. Then, he pulled a blank contract from his sleeve—the standard procurement contract for the Royal Capital's Tiangong Pavilion. The contract terms were at least twice as thick as the civilian agency contract for the Jubao Pavilion—every clause corresponded to an Ore grade, unit price, settlement method, and delivery cycle.

"I won't suppress your prices—but one thing must be included in the contract. Tiangong Pavilion promises to send at least two flying ships every month—even if we have to take a detour through the blockade, we will bear the shipping costs ourselves. The profit from your Ore is enough to cover the shipping costs—I cannot let you cut off the supply. Blue Moon Island is no longer just a source of Artifact Refining Materials—you are the only outpost in the flank war zone still outputting high-level war supplies."

The negotiation in the Chart Room lasted nearly an hour. Su Qingli read the contract clause by clause—she paused when she reached the third article—there was a clause in Tiangong Pavilion's settlement method: 'A portion of the Ore payment will be offset by array base repair Materials and wartime scarce supplies at Tiangong Pavilion's internal procurement price.' She circled this clause, then flipped through the recent consumption list of Blue Moon Island's array base Materials on her desk—"Tiangong Pavilion's internal procurement price—I need to reference it. If your internal purchase price is higher than the price we currently get from the fortress Logistics Department, this clause won't be set in stone; it will be negotiated separately during each delivery. If it's lower—we'll go with your internal purchase price."

Steward Zhong glanced at Su Qingli—then flipped out another document from his storage ring—the internal procurement price list for Tiangong Pavilion's array base Materials from the past year. He pushed the document across the table—"Tiangong Pavilion doesn't do one-off deals with frontline outposts. As long as you can maintain output—I will give you transparent pricing."

Su Qingli checked the numbers on the list line by line. The internal purchase price was indeed nearly ten percent lower than the price allocated by the Logistics Department—Tiangong Pavilion's procurement volume was hundreds of times that of Blue Moon Island, so their bargaining power was not on the same level. She circled out that clause in the contract—and wrote a new paragraph next to it: 'Based on Tiangong Pavilion's internal procurement price, with a fluctuation of no more than five percent.' Steward Zhong took a look—"Deal."

Two contracts were signed. One was the Tiangong Pavilion Ore Procurement Contract—covering all discovered Ore types including Cold Iron, star-patterned gold, Ghost Light Coral, mutated mother-of-pearl, etc., with pricing for each grade, settlement every ten days, and mixed settlement in Spirit Stones and array Materials. The other was the Royal Capital Auction House Quarterly Auction Commission Contract—the first batch of three pieces of star-patterned gold to be sent for auction, with the starting bid based on the pricing expert's quote, and Blue Moon Island retaining the right to withdraw from the auction if it does not sell.

The pricing expert in casual attire stamped a tiny golden Seal on the commission contract—the Seal pattern was an upright eye, with a tiny fragment of a Spirit Stone embedded in the pupil. The Royal Capital Auction House's official Seal—the Vertical Pupil Gold Seal—only three existed in the entire Royal Capital.

Less than half a day after the contracts were signed—an urgent military dispatch from Commander Tie Zhan at Zhenhai Fortress arrived. It wasn't a communication talisman—it was an official document. Two of Commander Tie Zhan's personal soldiers rode spirit horses through the flank waters—the spirit horses' hooves were stained with dark purple mud rolled up onto the water surface by the sea breeze—and delivered a military resolution document stamped with the scarlet Seal of the Command Headquarters to the Pier.

There were only three lines of text on the resolution document.

The first line: Effective immediately, the Blue Moon Island outpost grade is upgraded from Grade D to Grade B.

The second line: Material allocation will temporarily follow Grade A standards—Reason: Blue Moon Island is the actual defense hub of the flank war zone, and its production capacity is irreplaceable.

The third line: The Sin Battalion's establishment is expanded from 2,700 people to 4,500 people—the newly recruited personnel are to be selected and supplemented by Blue Moon Island itself from the refugees, and the military will issue monthly stipends and supplies according to the Grade A battalion standard.

Commander Tie Zhan wrote a postscript in red ink at the bottom of the resolution document. The handwriting was rough and stiff—every stroke looked like it was carved with a knife—"Lu Changyuan: Twenty outposts on the left flank—nineteen have collapsed. Yours is the only one that hasn't. I'm giving you the expansion quota—you pick the soldiers yourself. But after the expansion, your monthly Spirit Stone consumption will jump up a level—make sure you calculate your accounts well."

[part:gemini-3.5-flash]

Su Qingli placed the resolution on the chart table, opened the ledger, and added a new line of figures to the monthly income column. "Grade A allocations—the monthly supply of spirit rice has increased from five hundred piculs to one thousand five hundred piculs, armor plates from forty sets to one hundred and twenty sets, and formation Materials from two crates to six crates. Converted to Spirit Stones, that's about twelve thousand per month." She spun the brush between her fingers. "Plus about eight thousand from the military's long-term contract, about twenty thousand from the chamber of commerce's first shipment of Ore, and about three thousand six hundred from Jubao Pavilion's civilian channels—the monthly income is approaching forty-four thousand Spirit Stones. Expenses—monthly salaries and rations for the expanded force of one thousand eight hundred people is about nine thousand, raw Materials for the full production of the four cauldrons is about three thousand, formation base maintenance is about two thousand, and the consumption of Bone-Repelling Paste and talisman papers by the Abyss Exploration Team is about one thousand—the monthly surplus is nearly twenty-nine thousand."

She closed the ledger. "Blue Moon Island's current monthly surplus is more than its monthly income was three months ago."

Lu Changyuan stood opposite the chart table, looking at the figures on the last line of the ledger. He did not smile. He reached his hand into the inner pocket of his sleeve, feeling the ten items stacked together. At the very top was Special Commissioner Wei Yuan's Jade Slip, and at the very bottom was that black crystal. Its icy surface pressed against his forearm through layers of paper.

"The numbers on the ledger only account for the outside. The inside—the door beneath the keyhole—is the real ledger."

He pulled the black crystal out from his sleeve's inner pocket and placed it on the chart table. Under the light of the cold light stone lamp on the chart table, the crystal still did not reflect light, emit heat, or show any changes. However, after it had been on the table for a few breaths, the buzzing of Su Qingli's Receiving Formation Plate in the Formation Affairs Room jumped up another notch.

Elder Mo pushed the door open and walked in. He hadn't left the Formation Affairs Room since the day the black crystal was placed on the table, except to go back a few times to fetch rubbing paper and old formation diagrams. He placed an extremely thin dark bronze probe onto the surface of the crystal. The tip of the probe was carved with miniature sensory Array Patterns. The moment the probe touched the crystal, the buzzing on the Formation Plate stabilized at a fixed frequency. Stable—no, not just stable, but locked.

"The gap in the Seal is expanding. Three days ago, when the crystal was first placed on the table, the buzzing of the Formation Plate was intermittent, and the frequency was fluctuating. Now, it has stabilized at a fixed frequency. This indicates that the gap has turned from a crack into a hole. The Haiyuan Clan is still pouring blood over it. The Seal is continuously collapsing."

He withdrew the probe. "At this rate of collapse, it will take ten-odd days at most. Once the Blood Restriction is completely broken, the entrance to the ruins will be exposed at the deepest part of the Dragon Burial Trench. When that time comes, whether it's the Haiyuan Clan or the Royal Capital, they will all rush there."

Lu Changyuan turned the black crystal over. The dark gold radial fine lines on its bottom glinted with an extremely restrained faint light under the cold light stone lamp. "Ten-odd days—that's enough for us to prepare a Stealth Flying Vessel."

He called Leng Feng into the Chart Room. Chu Yunfei, Su Qingli, Elder Mo—the four of them gathered around the chart table. On the chart, in the red circle marking the deepest part of the Dragon Burial Trench—the location of the Main Hub of the Seal that Leng Feng had seen on the seabed a few months ago—Lu Changyuan had drawn a smaller circle next to it with charcoal. The small circle was drawn directly below the red circle and was labeled with two words: Ruins.

"The defensive line held. But the Blood Restriction is still being drenched—with every person who dies, the Seal grows a layer thinner. The Haiyuan Clan is now putting all their effort into ramming the keyhole. We have already done the absolute limit of what we can do on the outside. As for the things inside—we must enter before the door is completely drenched open by blood."

He pressed his finger on the small circle. "The Haiyuan Clan wants this ruins. The Royal Capital wants it too. But the token in our hands—only we have it."

Leng Feng's scabbard clasp was already buckled. "My Lord, when do we set out?"

"Prepare for a few more days—thoroughly understand the limit of the Puppet's continuous combat capabilities, let Elder Mo figure out the entry and exit Array Patterns on the crystal, and have Su Qingli wrap up the affairs outside. Then—" Lu Changyuan put the black crystal back into his sleeve's inner pocket. "We will take the Stealth Flying Vessel to the deepest part of the Dragon Burial Trench. While the Haiyuan Clan pours blood on the outside, we will enter the ruins directly using the token. And close the door from the inside."

The Chart Room fell silent for a few breaths. Then Elder Mo spoke—his voice was as steady as usual, but his speaking speed was twice as slow.

"Deducing the entry and exit Array Patterns—I need at least a few days. The Seal itself is an ancient Array Pattern from over two thousand years ago. What is carved on the token are only fragmented remnants of the patterns left on the shards after the Seal shattered. Deducing these remnants to reconstruct the complete entry and exit array paths—there is a technique in ancient array deduction called 'Reuniting the Broken Mirror' that is suitable for this kind of work. However, in twenty years, I have only deduced it in theory and never put it into practice."

"Is it enough?"

"It is enough. Only..." Elder Mo reached his hand into the inner pocket of his old cloth robe and pulled out the thin slice of Spirit Marrow that Lu Changyuan had cut for him last time. The thin slice was wrapped in oilpaper, which had a crease pressed into it that had already frayed. "The spiritual energy required for the deduction will be immense—the old injury in my Dantian cannot withstand it. But this half-piece of Spirit Marrow—contacting it for half an incense stick's time every day can cause the old injury to expel nearly twice as many greyish-black Impurities as usual. Relying on this, I can hold out for these few days."

Lu Changyuan looked at the thin slice of Spirit Marrow in Elder Mo's hand and nodded.

Leng Feng walked out of the Chart Room and headed toward the Pier. He walked onto the rocky platform of the reef and turned his Observation Scope a few final degrees toward the depths of the Dragon Burial Trench. Through the scope, in the direction of the New Primary Fluctuation Source, the dark purple corrosive mist was already so thick that it covered the entire deep sea surface. Beneath the mist, the glint of bone armor could be faintly seen spreading outward—not rushing out, but shrinking back into the depths. The Haiyuan Clan was putting all their effort into ramming the door.

He lowered the Observation Scope and glanced back at the Pier. On the Pier, Old Mai Liu was leading two newly formed Abyss Exploration Teams to inspect waterproof bags; next to the grading platform lay the third batch of Ore just unloaded this afternoon; Commander Cai turned to a new page in the register—at the top of the page, a date code was written in charcoal, a size larger than usual. Beside the bulletin board, He Pingchuan and Blind Qian had squatted back down on the stone ground, with newly received talisman papers and copper plates of Formation Plates spread out in front of them. On the contribution points exchange column, the line for "Golden Core Inner Core Viewing" was covered with marks, the latest being a red arrow shooting upward, its trajectory and target aligned—soaring toward the top of the contribution points leaderboard.

In the Formation Affairs Room, Su Qingli adjusted the Receiving Formation Plate to full-frequency recording mode. She copied the data from the Formation Plate line by line onto a new sheet of paper—residual fluctuations of the outer Restriction of the Seal; the speed of spiritual infusion into the Lock Core—still slowed down by the break in the connecting line, with the Interference Formation Stakes still in effect; the frequency curve of the New Primary Fluctuation Source—continuously rising and accelerating; the light spots of the Abyss Exploration Teams' activities around Blue Moon Island—densely scattered within a range of about sixty miles in the shallow layers of the Dragon Burial Trench. At the bottom of the paper, she wrote a line of words: End of Chapter Settlement.

Blue Moon Island—upgraded from a Grade D Stronghold to Grade B. Repelled three waves of Golden Core-level beast tides, killing two Golden Core Abyssal Beasts. Sheltered three thousand refugees—nearly half of whom have been incorporated into the Abyss Exploration Teams and the outer defensive perimeter. Monthly Ore production—Cold Iron alone is enough to supply more than half of Tiangong Pavilion's monthly purchase volume. Defenses—possesses one Core Formation Puppet, with worn but usable Array Patterns, providing effective deterrence; one Geng Metal Sword Intent Killing Array upgraded with Spirit Marrow; one Linked Formation Plate System, with Transformable Formation Plates already being melted down and cast for recycling. Monthly surplus—nearly twenty-nine thousand Spirit Stones.

She put down the brush and turned to look out the window. The cold light stone lamps on the Pier swayed gently in the night wind, their shadows falling on the bulletin board, illuminating the line written in charcoal by Commander Cai at the bottom: "Today's contribution points Exchange—Golden Core Inner Core Viewing: Five hundred points/one incense stick's time." Below it, a group of old Array Master had covered the blank space with marks—some drew circles, some drew checkmarks, and some used cinnabar ink to draw a red line shooting upward next to their contribution points balance.

At the northernmost corner of the Pier's stone slabs, Old Mai Liu moved the last basket of abyss-hunting equipment for tonight next to the skiff. At least a dozen waterproof bags were already tied to the skiff, each bag's mouth secured with a slipknot using old formation threads. He squatted by the skiff, unfolding the oilcloth of Ore vein coordinates drawn by Leng Feng once again. His finger paused on the third Ore vein prediction point—depth of approximately two thousand five hundred Zhang.

He looked up at the depths of the Dragon Burial Trench. The dark purple corrosive mist was rising over the sea, and at the top of the mist, an extremely faint dark gold pillar of light was piercing upward from beneath the sea surface. It was not sunlight—it was the spiritual light reflected from the Array Patterns around the keyhole of the Seal after being drenched in blood.

Old Mai Liu folded the oilcloth, tucked it into his shirt, and stood up. Tomorrow at the Mao hour, there would be at least ten more teams waiting to go into the water. The gap was still there—time was running out.