Striking Back, Third Young Master Cui Cuts Off Serena’s Road

Serena and Chief Musa had an agreement: Serena would buy up all the cattle and sheep from Musa's tribe and the surrounding units.

Each month, Chief Musa was to provide Serena with no less than eighty thousand jin of beef and mutton, and no less than three hundred thousand jin per season—more if possible.

Last year was their first time working together, and Chief Musa kept his word, always delivering at least the promised amount of fresh meat—sometimes even more. But this year, problems kept cropping up.

Earlier this year, delays of ten days or half a month were occasional, but Serena didn’t worry about it—after all, the distance was great, and a heavy rain or blocked road could easily mean deliveries were late by ten days, half a month, or even a month. But this time, it had already been three months with no on-time deliveries.

Spring had already sent word to Serena; at that time, Serena was hurrying back, so she told Spring to contact Chief Musa and also sent people to the grasslands to see if anything had happened to Musa’s tribe and whether they needed help.

In the end, no news came from the grasslands, but the word that Chief Musa had arrived in the Capital reached Serena first. As soon as she heard he was in town, she arranged to meet him today.

Seeing Chief Musa sitting across from her, face full of shame, Serena knew things were out of her control—this supply line was probably ruined.

"Chief Musa, what happened?" Serena sat down and got straight to the point.

"Serena, Miss Serena..." Chief Musa’s face flashed with embarrassment. His eyes darted around, unable to meet Serena’s gaze. With that, Serena already understood everything.

"Just say it—who intervened, and what terms did they offer you?" Although her deal with Chief Musa was secret, anyone determined enough could have found out.

Chief Musa, seeing Serena like this, grew even more uneasy. Suppressing his guilt, he said, "It was Third Young Master Cui. He offered a price fifty percent higher than yours—and we wouldn’t even have to deliver the goods ourselves."

To put it simply, selling the same batch of meat to Serena would earn them ten thousand taels, but selling to Third Young Master Cui would net them nearly twenty thousand—a doubled profit. Only a fool would refuse.

"Third Young Master Cui? Quite the move." Serena sneered, her eyes flashing cold.

She’d known it—after being chased by assassins and afraid to step outside, Third Young Master Cui would never let it go without striking back.

Ruthless. He actually cut off her supply line.

"Serena, I... I’m sorry. I didn’t want to, but..." If Serena would just scold him, Chief Musa might feel better. But with her silent, he felt even worse.

Back then, when their cattle and sheep froze to death on the grasslands, it was Serena who stepped in and helped the tribe survive the winter. When they had no doctors or medicine, Serena sent cartloads of supplies and dispatched physicians to treat them. But now...

Their lives had improved, but they’d pushed Serena aside.

"Business is business. There’s nothing wrong with chasing higher profits." Serena cut him off, but just as Chief Musa relaxed, she turned stern: "But your sneaky behavior truly disgusts me. If you thought the price was too low, you could’ve said so. If someone else offered more, you could at least have told me, so I’d have a chance to match it. If I couldn’t compete, I’d accept it. But instead, you kept silent, making me think something had happened to you—I even sent people to the grasslands looking for you. Only when you couldn’t hide it anymore did you come to me."

"Serena, we... we didn’t want to either. But that Third Young Master Cui... he wouldn’t let us say a word." Chief Musa’s head was nearly buried in his chest.

Grassland men were always known for being forthright, but this time, they’d truly let Serena down—not only breaking their word, but turning around and hurting her in the process.

"What’s the use of saying this now? The losses you’ve caused me are far from minor." If they’d told her even two months earlier, she could’ve found a way.

Now it was winter—no new grain could be harvested, and cattle, sheep, and pigs couldn’t be fattened up in such a short time. The rations she had on hand wouldn’t last until the next harvest.

Just thinking about those tens of thousands of mouths to feed, Serena felt like she couldn’t breathe—the pressure was crushing.

Seeing the worry on Serena’s face, Chief Musa grew even more uneasy. "Miss Serena, we were in the wrong. We... if you want, we’ll forgo payment for the last batch."

Serena had always paid in advance for each batch, mainly to guard against exactly this kind of betrayal. But now, what use was that small sum of silver?

"Business is business, but I keep my word even if you don’t. Go settle accounts with the bookkeeper—you’ll get every tael owed. I hope we can still work together in the future." Serena was deeply offended, but she couldn’t afford to burn this bridge—her people’s training was intense, and they needed plenty of meat.

"Thank you, Miss Serena. Thank you." Chief Musa kept his head down, not daring to meet her eyes, and quickly took his leave.

Serena sat alone in the greenhouse, propping her head on her hand and gently pressing her temples, her thin face full of worry.

Third Young Master Cui had drawn the battle line—if she didn’t strike back, she’d be letting herself down. But for now, the urgent thing was to secure food supplies. Otherwise, in two months, Shandong would run out of grain.

"Raising troops really is a money-burning business." Especially since she only spent and never earned—her accounts were running out of silver, and at this rate, she wouldn’t be able to support her people much longer.

She had the Lu clan’s gold in her hands, but for now, she couldn’t use it. If too much gold suddenly flooded the market, people would start asking questions. If they traced it back to her, she’d become the sworn enemy of the Four Kingdoms and Nine Cities.

"Should I do what Ninth Royal Uncle did—take a city and use its taxes to feed my army?" Supporting troops is a long-term expense; she needed steady income, or she’d never last.

"But which city should I go after?" Serena mentally ran through all nine cities, but with her current strength, she couldn’t take any of them.

Serena shook her head with a bitter smile, temporarily setting the idea aside. She sat quietly in the greenhouse for a while, making sure her face betrayed nothing before heading downstairs.

She hadn’t even reached the bottom of the stairs when someone blocked her path. Serena looked at the person below and greeted him first: "Felix Fuller—no, I should say Lord Fuller."

"Just call me Felix," he replied. "'Lord Fuller' sounds too stiff." Felix pointed to the seat by the window. "Sit for a bit?"

"Alright." Serena didn’t refuse and sat down with Felix.

As soon as they sat, a waiter brought wine and dishes. Serena frowned. "I don’t drink."

The waiter was about to take it away, but Felix stopped him: "It’s just fruit wine—a couple of sips won’t hurt. I’ve got good news to share. For this, we should have a toast."

"What good news could possibly be worth celebrating with wine?" Serena didn’t argue further, her expression calm as she looked at Felix—she didn’t seem that interested in his so-called good news.

Felix didn’t mind. He poured them both a glass, then drank his own, his manner full of mysterious, prophetic flair. It actually piqued Serena’s curiosity; after Felix had downed three cups, she finally asked him what was going on...