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Chapter 5: Smoke, Secrets, and Shadow Markets
The stars hung low over the village that night, veiled by thin clouds and the hum of something unspoken. Shen Ci stood by her window, notebook open, system screen glowing faintly behind her eyes.
[Encrypted Trade Route Interface Unlocked]
[Alias Required for Access]
She tapped her pen against the page and wrote two words:
Midnight Vine.
The system accepted it with a soft chime.
And just like that, Shen Ci wasn't just a village girl anymore.
She was a player.
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The underground network wasn't flashy. No dramatic cloak-and-dagger drama. No neon-lit hacker servers. Just a string of burner forums, secret delivery paths, and coded exchanges nestled inside a glorified barter app disguised as a farming co-op.
It was genius, honestly.
"Organic millet for bulk-grade lithium? Who's running this—Elon Musk with a hoe?" she muttered.
Still, she followed the threads.
Rare earth metals.
Vintage currencies.
Heirloom seeds with unstable genetics.
The digital stalls were packed with goods nobody should legally have, sold in hush-hush trades between people too smart—or too desperate—to use regular markets.
She listed one of the old stock certificates her father had stashed, just to test the waters.
Within minutes, two offers rolled in.
One was from someone calling themselves "GhostRoot," offering a month's supply of drought-resistant hybrid grain.
The other… was encrypted.
Just a blinking cursor and a single phrase:
"I know what that certificate hides. You interested in doubling your land?"
Shen Ci leaned back, eyes narrowing.
Now that was interesting.
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The next morning, she buried her reply in system code and let the network do its thing. Then she headed to the forest edge with a hatchet, gloves, and a new plan.
Time to survey the newly reclaimed land.
The trees were old, branches twisted like arthritic fingers. Moss clung to the trunks, thick and damp. But beneath that overgrowth, the ground was rich—black loam, warm to the touch. The system buzzed as she stepped deeper in.
[Sub-surface mineral activity detected.]
[Potential value: 1.2 million yuan, based on current market projections.]
"Don't lie to me unless you're prepared to back it up," she whispered.
But the reading held.
She marked off the boundaries with sticks and red string, then turned to see someone waiting at the trail's edge.
Zhao Feng.
Again.
He wasn't alone—behind him, two men in city suits looked wildly out of place on the muddy forest path.
"Ci," Zhao Feng said with forced calm. "We need to talk."
She crossed her arms. "No, you need to leave."
"The land transfer—your father's plot. That was never officially recorded. My uncle says—"
Shen Ci held up the stamped documents. "You mean this official record?"
Zhao Feng's face twitched.
The suited men stepped forward. "We represent Eastern Horizon Holdings. We're interested in acquiring the land."
She smiled sweetly. "It's not for sale."
"We're prepared to offer—"
"I'm not."
One of them sneered. "Do you understand what you're sitting on?"
"I do. Better than you," she said. "And I suggest you get off my land before I call the village chief and tell him two out-of-town parasites are trespassing."
They left.
But not before one of them dropped a card at her feet.
No name. Just a number.
And a symbol.
A black chrysanthemum.
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That night, she ran the symbol through the system. The result made her sit up straight.
[Flagged Entity: Chrysanthemum Syndicate]
[Status: Semi-Legal. Interests: Land acquisition, mineral control, offshore logistics, political leverage.]
[Recommendation: Extreme caution.]
So that's who she'd stirred.
She smiled faintly.
Good.
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Two days later, her perilla harvest began. Leaves dried in her mother's old bamboo trays. Bottles of infused oil lined the shelves like soldiers waiting to be deployed. The system helped optimize the packaging process with recycled materials and temperature-resistant seals.
She listed the first batch online using her alias.
Within hours, a restaurant chain placed a bulk order.
Her first big break.
And right as she was boxing the last crate, her system pinged again.
[Black Market Buyer Request: Meet in person. Coordinates uploaded. 3-hour window.]
She stared at the screen.
Bold.
Risky.
Perfect.
She packed a small crate, slipped her pocket knife into her boot, and headed out.
The meeting point was an old warehouse near a dried-up riverbed. Rusted tin walls. A gate that hung sideways like a broken promise.
Inside, a man stood waiting.
Face shadowed. Hands in his coat.
"You Midnight Vine?" he asked.
"You first," she replied.
He tossed her a coin.
An old American silver dollar. Pre-war. Nearly flawless.
"I want five more of what your father had," he said.
She lifted the lid of the crate, showing the certificate, wrapped and sealed.
"I want land," she replied. "And I want a name."
The man tilted his head. "They said you were bold."
"They didn't lie."
He grinned.
And the deal was made.
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When she returned home that night, her fingers still smelled faintly of iron and risk.
She leaned against the doorframe, watching the moon rise over her field.
One foot in the village.
One in the underworld.
And both firmly planted in her future.
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End of Chapter 5
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