Though Lin Mu felt this mission seemed tailor-made for him, his mind was still rapidly calculating the pros and cons—this was his habitual caution.
The Grand Competition was indeed the most critical main quest at present, determining whether he could establish a firm foothold in the clan and obtain more resources.
But if he didn't resolve the Liquor Worm's advancement problem, his cultivation speed would plummet drastically after reaching Rank 2. What would he use then to compete against those direct lineage disciples with deep foundations and tilted resources?
Although this smuggling mission carried the risk of encountering demonic rogue cultivators, it was also an excellent opportunity.
He could use it to make contact with outside "demonic rogues" and learn about the broader situation in Southern Border, no longer remaining a frog at the bottom of a well.
Furthermore, if that rogue cultivator lacked strength or harbored ill intentions, he could simply rob the robber and make a windfall profit. Why not?
Moreover, he was now at peak Rank 1 cultivation.
Combined with the exquisite coordination of "Earth Ring Body" and "Dust Escape Gu," even if his opponent was a Rank 2 Gu Master, he was confident that if he wanted to flee, no one in the outer regions of Black Wind Ridge could keep him.
The abacus clicked loudly in his heart, but Lin Mu couldn't let any of it show on his face.
If he agreed too easily, this old fox Old Ma would certainly grow suspicious, perhaps even push for more.
His expression suddenly darkened. He slammed his palm hard on the wooden counter, producing a muffled thud.
His voice carried suppressed anger and dissatisfaction at being manipulated:
"Old Ma, do you take me for a three-year-old who's easy to fool?"
"You want me to carry black-market goods that could explode at any moment and bring great clans hunting me down, then go deep into Black Wind Ridge to trade with some demonic rogue who kills without blinking?"
"This isn't asking me to deliver goods—this is asking me to deliver myself to death!"
Lin Mu stared hard at Old Ma's single eye, his momentum overwhelming, refusing to yield an inch:
"You think some vague, unverified lead can buy my life? This deal has too much risk and too little reward. I won't do it! Find someone else!"
With that, Lin Mu made as if to grab the leather pouch on the counter and turn to leave.
What kind of shrewd operator was Old Ma?
Having crawled through Grey Street for most of his life, what kind of people hadn't he seen? He understood this routine of asking for the sky and bargaining down to earth all too well.
If Lin Mu truly feared the risk and didn't want to do it, he wouldn't waste words—he'd simply turn and leave.
Since he was here throwing a fit and listing a pile of reasons, it meant this job wasn't impossible—he just felt the stakes weren't high enough.
"The price needs to go up."
The power dynamic reversed in that instant.
"Oh my, my Brother Lin, Grandpa Lin! Don't rush off, don't be angry!"
Old Ma hurriedly rose from his rattan chair, even disregarding his image to reach out and press down on the other end of the leather pouch, his face plastered with an ingratiating smile.
After all, he was the one asking for help now. If the goods got stuck in his hands, not only would he suffer heavy losses, but endless trouble might follow.
"I know this job is risky—this old brother understands completely. How could I let you run around for nothing?"
"That Liquor Worm lead, I guarantee on this head of mine, is absolutely real! And furthermore..."
Old Ma gritted his teeth, as if steeling himself with tremendous resolve, and extended two withered fingers:
"Besides the intelligence, after the job's done, I'll pay you an extra two hundred Primeval Stones! As a courier's fee. This price is the absolute ceiling in Grey Street!"
Lin Mu stopped in his tracks, coldly regarding him, still not relenting:
"Two hundred stones? To buy my life? Old Ma, your calculations are truly precise."
"I want three hundred stones, plus whatever intelligence you've gathered on recent unusual activities in Grey Street."
The two of them faced off across that worn counter, launching into a fierce verbal sparring match and psychological battle.
Finally, after extreme haggling, both sides made concessions and reached an agreement:
Old Ma would not only provide the Liquor Worm lead and serve as intermediary, but after the job was complete, he would also pay Lin Mu an additional two hundred fifty Primeval Stones as courier's fee, plus a complimentary briefing on recent movements among the various mountain strongholds circulating through Grey Street.
"Fine then. For the sake of old acquaintance, I'll reluctantly take this job."
Only then did Lin Mu assume an expression of unwillingness, as if he'd taken a huge loss, slowly releasing his hand from the leather pouch.
Old Ma let out a long breath of relief, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.
He turned and walked to the deepest part of the shop. Beneath a shelf piled with miscellaneous goods, he fumbled around for a while before opening an extremely hidden compartment.
From the compartment, he carefully lifted out a heavy lead box.
Lead could effectively block many detection methods—a common packaging choice for black market merchants.
Old Ma placed the lead box on the counter and slowly opened it. Inside lay a layer of soft shock-absorbing velvet, upon which rested two listless Gu worms.
Though they were weak to the extreme, their vital signs faint, Lin Mu could still clearly sense a special fluctuation emanating from them—feeble yet extremely stubborn, carrying a thick scent of blood.
Like faint yet piercing fireflies in the darkness, once they left this lead box's suppression, anyone with intent within a dozen li, along with those clan spies who specially raised tracking Gu worms, might detect them.
"This is the merchandise." Old Ma's tone became extremely grave as he warned repeatedly:
"Be extremely careful. Before you hand them to 'Wild Dog,' absolutely do not let them leave this lead box for even a moment."
"Once their aura leaks, drawing those clans' mad dogs, neither of us will have a good ending."
"I know, stop nagging."
Lin Mu accepted the lead box expressionlessly, not employing any techniques in front of Old Ma. Trump cards should always be used in the shadows.
He glanced at the leather pouch full of Primeval Stones on the table and said lightly: "These stones are inconvenient to carry while moving. I'll store them here for now."
"Rest assured, this old man's place is safer than Black Blood Stockade's treasury. No one dares touch my accounts."
Old Ma patted his shriveled chest in guarantee, though a glint of shrewdness flashed in his eyes. He knew Lin Mu was leaving himself a backup—if this shipment went wrong, these stones would serve as collateral.
Lin Mu nodded, saying nothing more. He tucked the lead box close against his chest, pulled down his bamboo hat, and quietly departed from this shop filled with schemes and transactions.
Leaving Grey Street, the night grew darker, the pale moonlight mostly obscured by clouds.
After confirming that no one was within several hundred meters and that he wasn't being followed by Old Ma's lookouts, Lin Mu stopped in a sheltered mountain hollow.
He pulled out the lead box from his chest and opened the lid. His eyes held not a trace of apprehension—only absolute coldness and confidence.
The Primeval Essence within his aperture began to surge. With a thought, a layer of dark red, viscous mud like boiling magma instantly welled up in his palm.
Red Mud Gu activated.
The red mud churned, tightly wrapping both dead Gu bearing tracking auras along with the small piece of velvet around them.
The red mud not only created physical isolation but, under the effect of Primeval Essence, completely sealed off that faint fluctuation's outward radiation.
Within just a few breaths, the viscous red mud rapidly dehydrated and hardened.
Click, click.
Two ordinary-looking, rough-surfaced dark red "pebbles" fell into Lin Mu's palm.
Lin Mu carefully sensed them. No luster whatsoever, not even the faintest wisp of aura leaking out!
Now they were just two stones that, if thrown by the roadside or mixed into a pile of gravel, wouldn't merit a second glance from even the keenest tracking hound.
This was precisely the most unreasonable marvel of the Red Mud Gu—and Lin Mu's absolute confidence in accepting this smuggling mission in this man-eating Southern Border.
"Demonic rogue cultivator, hm..."
Lin Mu hefted the two heavy "stones" in his hand, then casually stuffed them into the cloth pouch at his waist for easy access.
He raised his head, his gaze passing through layers of tree shadows, looking toward the depths of Black Wind Ridge that rose and fell continuously in the darkness, as if countless fierce beasts lurked within.
"I hope you'll bring me a pleasant surprise rather than an unpleasant shock."