"Brother Rui, you’re going to the Black Market?"

Mrs. Xue of the Fang Family frowned. "That place is so chaotic..."

She was clearly worried about Fang Rui’s safety.

Since Fang Rui dared to bring up going to the Black Market, he was confident he could persuade his mother. "Mother, I’ve reached Entry Grade!"

An Entry Grade Martial Artist was different from an ordinary person. For one thing, their appetite was much larger. Living under the same roof, it was impossible to hide it from his family forever.

Rather than letting it be discovered later, it was better to reveal it himself. That way, he could also put Mrs. Xue of the Fang Family’s mind at ease.

"You’ve really reached Entry Grade?"

Her own husband, Fang Baicao, was an Entry Grade Martial Artist, so Mrs. Xue of the Fang Family naturally understood what Entry Grade meant. She couldn’t help but ask in shock.

"I wouldn’t dare lie to you, Mother."

As he spoke, Fang Rui grabbed the edge of the counter with one hand and abruptly lifted it.

"My son!"

Mrs. Xue of the Fang Family’s eyes went wide. She covered her mouth, a mix of shock and joy on her face. "This is truly a blessing from the heavens! A blessing from the Immortals!"

Fang Baicao had once said that Fang Rui suffered from Innate Body Weakness, an ailment incurable by medicine. He could only rely on his own strength... Only by reaching Entry Grade and advancing step-by-step in his Martial Arts could he hope to overcome his body’s deficiency.

Now that Fang Rui had reached Entry Grade in Martial Arts, he was no longer a sickly weakling, which naturally made her overjoyed.

More importantly...

Ever since Fang Baicao had been conscripted in Fang Rui’s place, the family had been without its pillar of support. There was Lord Hu coming to collect his fee today, what happened to the Chus’, and that afternoon, she had witnessed a woman being dragged away right on the street...

All of this had left Mrs. Xue of the Fang Family feeling utterly insecure. Fang Rui’s breakthrough to Entry Grade was what finally filled that void.

It took a while for Mrs. Xue of the Fang Family to calm down. Her face was flushed, her joy was irrepressible, and she kept repeating, "My son has made something of himself! My son has finally made something of himself!"

Fang Rui didn’t interrupt, letting his mother revel in her happiness. A faint sense of pride welled up inside him. Only when she had calmed down did he say, "Mother, you must keep this a secret. This is our family’s trump card."

"I understand, I understand. I’ll do as you say, my son!" Mrs. Xue of the Fang Family readily agreed.

Fang Rui added, "I heard from Third Lady that the city is likely to get even more chaotic. Our family must stock up on more grain. Having grain in store brings peace of mind!"

"Of course, we can’t rush this. We have to take it slow, and we must be careful, even when going to the Black Market."

"My plan is to buy just a portion at a time. We’ll make multiple trips, moving it bit by bit like a mouse, so we don’t draw any attention."

"Alright, Brother Rui, we’ll do as you say." Mrs. Xue of the Fang Family was a decisive woman. After a brief discussion with Fang Rui, she immediately went to her room to get the money.

「A short while later.」

Fang Rui took some of the family’s savings and slipped out quietly under the cover of darkness.

...

Fang Rui knew where the Black Market was. Before Fang Baicao left to join the army in his stead, he had told him many things, including details about the Black Market.

His father had taught him a lot about the Black Market—the basics, the things to watch out for. But even with this knowledge, he had been a sickly weakling with no way to protect himself. If he had been targeted, he would have been done for, so he never dared to go.

Now that he had reached Entry Grade in Martial Arts, that was no longer a problem.

Of course, even a Ninth Grade Martial Artist was by no means top-tier in the Black Market; it just meant he had gained a measure of self-protection.

As the saying goes, "Don’t bite off more than you can chew." Fang Rui understood this principle well. As long as he didn’t overreach, protecting twenty or thirty catties of grain was well within his capabilities.

And besides, this wasn’t fine white flour or meat—it was just twenty or thirty catties of Sorghum Flour, not even cornmeal.

The sort of vicious thugs that a Ninth Grade Martial Artist couldn’t handle wouldn’t deign to notice such a small amount anyway. It wasn’t worth their trouble to target him.

The Black Market was located in a corner of the southern district, a journey that took about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

At the entrance, a burly, bearded man stood guard, his face expressionless. "One large coin for the entrance fee. Once inside, fighting is forbidden. Violators will face the consequences."

Fang Rui already knew the routine. He paid the fee in silence and entered.

Most people in the Black Market kept their faces covered. Some wore wide-brimmed conical hats, with sabers or swords at their sides.

Fang Rui gave them a wide berth—his father had warned him that such people were dangerous characters. If he saw anyone like that in the Black Market, he was to get as far away as he could.

He didn’t rush to buy grain, deciding to look around slowly first.

Though it was called the Black Market, it wasn’t particularly mysterious. It was just an alternative marketplace, with stalls selling all sorts of miscellaneous goods.

Most of the sellers were ordinary people, hoping to trade items like roosters and eggs here for a better price—after all, things fetched more in the Black Market.

There was also another point.

Ironically, order in the Black Market was actually better than in the legitimate markets. Incidents of forced transactions or what amounted to thinly veiled robbery were almost unheard of here.

Therefore, many common folk would rather pay the entrance fee of one large coin to trade here.

There were quite a few grain sellers as well.

And that’s no joke; it was the truth.

Even with this year’s severe drought and widespread shortages, the grain merchants themselves were not lacking for grain. The Government Office had a regulation: citizens could purchase a limited quantity of grain at a fixed price, based on their household registration.

In times like these, this decree was actually strictly enforced—at least, on the surface.

The reason?

It was simple: fines.

A single decree imposing fines was enough to motivate the lower-ranking officials and clerks.

In these times, even an honest merchant could be extorted for two taels. But if a petty official found some real leverage, they wouldn’t hesitate to skin them alive.

In fact, even with this decree, the grain merchants still made a profit. But to a merchant, earning less is the same as taking a loss, which is why there were stalls selling grain in the Black Market.

You could say that of the stalls selling grain in the Black Market, six out of ten belonged to the city’s grain merchants, and the other four belonged to other prominent households in the city.