The morning sun cast long shadows as Eamon and I entered Peach Blossom City. The streets buzzed with unusual activity, rchants hawking their wares with extra enthusiasm.
"More crowded than I expected," I remarked, scanning the faces in the crowd for any sign of Caleb Thorne.
Eamon nodded. "This city is known for its herb markets. Maybe there's a special event?"
My stomach growled, reminding we hadn't eaten since dawn. "Let's find a place to eat first. We can gather information while we're at it."
We found a modest teahouse near the city center. The savory aroma of stead dumplings and roasted duck filled the air as we settled at a corner table.
"What brings you gentlen to our city?" The proprietor asked, placing cups of fragrant tea before us.
"Business with Caleb Thorne," I replied, watching his reaction carefully.
The man's smile faltered slightly. "Ah, Master Thorne. He's quite... prominent in our herb trade."
"You don't sound impressed," I noted.
He glanced around nervously before leaning closer. "Not my place to speak ill of successful n. What would you like to eat?"
After ordering, I pressed further. "We're having trouble locating him. Any suggestions?"
"You picked an interesting ti to visit," the proprietor said. "The annual Herbs Convention starts today at Longevity Village. Every herbalist worth their salt will be there, including Master Thorne."
My interest piqued. "Herbs Convention?"
"Hosted by the Celestial Apothecary Guild," he explained, pride evident in his voice. "The greatest gathering of herbalists in the province. This year, they're even showcasing a top-grade dicinal herb."
Eamon perked up. "What kind of herb?"
"They call it the Thousand-Year Ginseng. Said to have absorbed the essence of the mountains for over a millennium." The man's eyes glead. "Rumored to extend life by decades with a single dose."
I exchanged a aningful look with Eamon. This was unexpected but potentially fortunate timing.
"Where exactly is Longevity Village?" I asked.
"Just beyond the eastern gate. You can't miss the crowds." He set down our food. "If you're heading there after your al, I suggest you hurry. The rare herbs sell out quickly."
We finished our al in contemplative silence. The Celestial Apothecary Guild wasn't a na I'd heard before, but any organization hosting a convention of herbalists might prove useful to my growing knowledge of dicinal arts.
"Change of plans," I told Eamon as we paid our bill. "We'll find Thorne at this convention."
---
Longevity Village was less a village and more a sprawling marketplace transford for the occasion. Colorful banners hung between buildings, proclaiming the "47th Annual Herbs Convention" in bold calligraphy.
Hundreds of stalls lined the streets, each displaying herbs in various forms—dried, powdered, fresh, or processed into pills and tinctures. The air was thick with mingling fragrances, so pleasant, others distinctly dicinal.
"Look at these prices," I muttered, examining a display of white ginseng. "They're selling for a fraction of what Thorne charged us."
Eamon's expression darkened. "We were cheated badly, then."
"Knowledge is power," I replied, moving deeper into the market. "Now we know his true profit margins."
We wandered through the convention, taking in the sights. I was impressed by the variety—herbs from mountain peaks and ocean depths, from distant deserts and tropical forests. My eyes cataloged everything, adding to my ntal repository of dicinal knowledge.
The crowd thickened as we approached the central plaza. A large pavilion dominated the space, elegant and imposing with the Celestial Apothecary Guild's emblem—a mortar and pestle encircled by celestial symbols—flying proudly above.
"That must be where they'll showcase the Thousand-Year Ginseng," Eamon said.
Before I could respond, a feminine voice called out from behind us. "You look lost, gentlen."
I turned to find a woman watching us with amused interest. She appeared to be in her late twenties, with sharp features softened by an engaging smile. Her clothing was simple but of excellent quality, suggesting wealth without ostentation.
"Not lost," I replied. "Just new to the convention."
"First-tirs, then." Her smile widened as she extended her hand. "Evelyn Norton. I've been attending since I was a child."
"Liam Knight." I took her hand briefly. "And this is Eamon Greene."
Eamon bowed respectfully. Evelyn's gaze lingered on a mont too long, her eyes calculating despite her friendly deanor.
"What brings you to our humble herb fair, Master Knight?" she asked.
"Business and curiosity," I answered vaguely. Sothing about her manner put on guard—her charm seed practiced, almost strategic.
"Then allow to assist you." She gestured toward the central pavilion. "The main event begins in an hour. Until then, I'd be happy to show you around."
I was about to decline politely when a commotion near one of the larger stalls caught my attention. A group of n were making their way through the crowd, which parted before them like water around a stone.
"Who's that?" Eamon whispered.
Evelyn's expression soured slightly. "Reginald Talbot and his entourage. One of River North's self-important 'young masters.'"
The na struck a chord in my mory. Reginald Talbot—son of Glenn Talbot, who had tried to force into servitude during one of my earlier adventures in Havenwood City. I'd humiliated the father; it seed the son was now prospering in River North.
"You know him?" I asked Evelyn.
"Everyone knows the Talbots," she replied with a hint of distaste. "They own half the herb farms in River North and think it entitles them to own the people as well."
As if sensing our scrutiny, Reginald turned. Our eyes t across the crowded marketplace, and recognition flashed in his gaze. His handso face twisted into a sneer, and he whispered sothing to his companions, who all turned to look at .
"He's coming this way," Eamon warned, tensing beside .
I remained calm. In the months since our last encounter, my strength had grown exponentially. With the Shrinking Ground Into An Inch technique at my disposal, I could disappear in an instant if needed.
"Liam Knight," Reginald called out as he approached, his voice carrying over the market's buzz. "I didn't expect to see you alive, let alone in River North."
I kept my expression neutral. "Reginald. You're a long way from ho."
He laughed, though his eyes remained cold. "This is my territory now. After you humiliated my father, he sent here to rebuild our family's standing."
"Seems you've done well for yourself," I observed.
"Better than well." He gestured broadly. "While you've been playing at being important in that backwater Havenwood, I've beco River North's foremost authority on dicinal herbs."
This chapter is part of the collection on *.
Evelyn coughed delicately. "Second foremost, perhaps. The Celestial Apothecary Guild might dispute your claim."
Reginald's gaze slid to her, recognition and annoyance flashing across his features. "Ah, the lovely Miss Norton. Still associating with outsiders, I see."
"I prefer the term 'visitors,'" she replied smoothly.
Reginald returned his attention to . "You know, Knight, I never properly thanked you for what you did to my father."
"No thanks necessary," I replied, matching his false cordiality.
"Oh, but I insist." His smile turned predatory. "The leg you shattered—he walks with a cane now. Permanent damage, the physicians say."
I felt no remorse. Glenn Talbot had been a cruel man who'd tried to enslave . "He made his choices."
"Indeed." Reginald's voice hardened. "As will you. River North isn't like your precious Havenwood. Here, there are... consequences for one's actions."
The threat was unmistakable, but I'd faced far worse than this petty tyrant. "I'll keep that in mind."
"See that you do." He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Enjoy the convention while you can, Knight. Your stay in River North will be brief—and potentially painful."
With that, he turned and strode away, his entourage following like well-trained dogs.
Evelyn released a breath once they were out of earshot. "That was tense. You've made a dangerous enemy, Master Knight."
"He was already my enemy," I replied. "Now he's just a more vocal one."
She studied with newfound interest. "You don't seem concerned."
"Should I be?"
"The Talbots control much of the herb trade here. They can make life difficult for newcors."
I smiled slightly. "I've faced worse odds."
"Perhaps," Evelyn conceded, though her tone suggested doubt. "But be cautious in River North, Master Knight. Not all dangers announce themselves as clearly as Reginald Talbot."
As if to punctuate her warning, Reginald glanced back at us from across the plaza. When our eyes t again, he drew a finger slowly across his throat before disappearing into the crowd.
Evelyn sighed. "Well, that was subtle."
"Subtlety isn't the Talbot family's strong suit," I replied, unperturbed.
"You should take his threat seriously," she insisted.
I turned to face her directly. "Why do you care what happens to , Miss Norton? We've only just t."
A flicker of sothing—surprise? respect?—crossed her face before her charming smile returned. "Let's just say I find you... intriguing. And I've never cared for Reginald's type."
Before I could probe further, Reginald's voice carried across the plaza once more.
"What's this?" he called mockingly. "Even a seductive vixen has her tender monts? How touching, Miss Norton!"
Evelyn's face hardened as the crowd around us began to whisper and stare. Whatever ga was being played between these two, I had inadvertently stepped into the middle of it—and in River North, that might prove more dangerous than I had anticipated.
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