Young Master System: My Mother Is the Matriarch-Chapter 46 - : The Standoff Part 1

The rising sun cast vivid shadows across Crescent Moon City, its golden rays bathing the bustling streets in a warm, inviting glow. Shopkeepers bustled about, setting up their stalls with colorful fabrics, fragrant spices, and trinkets that gleamed in the morning light. The air was alive with the sounds of commerce—the rhythmic clanging of blacksmiths sharpening tools, the lively chatter of merchants, and the occasional bark of street vendors hawking their wares.

"Where's the cobblestone?!" roared a burly blacksmith, his muscular arms glistening with sweat as he barked at his assistants. The repetitive clash of metal on metal echoed through the streets, mingling with the hum of activity.

Near the main road leading to the Liu clan residence stood a humble shop, its rustic and weathered appearance a stark contrast to the newer, polished buildings surrounding it. This was Evergreen Pharmaceuticals, a quaint establishment with a charm that spoke of decades of history. Its signboard, nailed to the top of the storefront, bore the shop's name in elegant cursive, the letters shimmering in a soft jade green that caught the morning light like emeralds.

Inside, the shop was a sanctuary of ancient knowledge. The air was thick with the heady aroma of medicinal herbs, and paper talismans hung from the shelves like delicate ornaments. Glass jars lined the wooden counters, each filled with meticulously arranged dried roots, leaves, and flowers, their labels written in neat, precise handwriting. The counters themselves, though worn by time, bore the marks of careful craftsmanship, their surfaces polished smooth by years of use.

'Where is that skinny slacker?' Old Mo, the shopkeeper, muttered under his breath as he adjusted a display of ginseng roots. A stout man in his fifties, Old Mo had a face framed by a cascading white beard that gave him the appearance of a wise old turtle. His faded brown and red robes, threadbare in places, hung loosely on his frame, yet he wore them with a dignified grace. His sharp eyes, however, betrayed a troubled mind as he stood alone in his shop, deep in thought.

The bell above the door tinkled, breaking the silence. Old Mo turned to see a young man burst into the shop, his face flushed and his clothes drenched in sweat. The youth was lanky, with a gaunt face and sunken eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and hard labor. His white martial robes were frayed and stained, his shoes scuffed and barely holding together. His skin, tanned and weathered, hinted at a life spent more outdoors than in.

"Old Mo," the young man panted, struggling to catch his breath, "I've arrived just in time for my shift."

Old Mo raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Lu Tian, you look like you've run straight from the mountains. What's the matter with you, boy?" His voice carried a hint of annoyance, a tone he had perfected after years of dealing with his assistant's tardiness.

Lu Tian wiped his brow with the back of his hand, his eyes darting nervously around the shop. "I've got urgent news, Old Mo. But first, let me catch my breath." A mischievous grin spread across his face, though the beads of sweat dripping from his forehead undermined any attempt at charm.

The old shopkeeper crossed his arms, his expression stern. "Make it quick, boy. I don't have time for your idle chatter." Old Mo's patience was wearing thin, and his tone left no room for argument.

Lu Tian took a deep breath, his chest heaving. "I wanted to thank you for the herbs you gave me last time. They worked wonders for my sister's cough." His voice was sincere, his gratitude evident.

Old Mo's expression softened slightly, though his voice remained gruff. "I was simply doing the right thing. Now, what's this urgent news you're talking about?" His sharp eyes bore into Lu Tian, demanding an explanation.

The young man hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "It's about the Liu clan. There are rumors spreading like wildfire. They say there's going to be a confrontation just outside their residence—a standoff between them and the Shen and Zhang clans."

Old Mo's eyes narrowed, a frown creasing his forehead. "A standoff, you say? And where exactly did you hear this?" His voice carried a note of concern. His shop was situated dangerously close to the Liu clan's residence, and trouble had a way of finding its way to his doorstep.

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Lu Tian's face grew serious. "Not much, Old Mo. Just bits and pieces I overheard while delivering goods. But the animosity between the two sides is said to be irreconcilable. People are saying it could turn bloody." He went on to recount the events of the past few days, his words painting a picture of escalating tensions.

Old Mo stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze distant. "The Shen and Zhang clans have been powerhouses for generations. It's surprising to hear that a mere youngster would dare step on their toes."

Lu Tian nodded vigorously. "That's what I thought too. But what should we do, Old Mo? Should we close up shop?" His eyes gleamed with hope, the notorious loafer already envisioning a day off.

The old shopkeeper sighed, shaking his head. "Enough of your nonsense, boy. Let the clans handle their own affairs. We have our own business to attend to." His tone left no room for argument.

Lu Tian's shoulders slumped, but he didn't argue. "Alright, Old Mo. If you say so." He sighed deeply before grabbing an apron from a nearby rack and tying it around his waist.

Old Mo turned back to his work, his mind already shifting to the tasks ahead. "Now, if you're done with your news, help me hang these herbs outside. We've got a busy day ahead, and these need sunlight."

Lu Tian nodded, rolling up his sleeves. "Of course, Old Mo. Whatever you need." As he stepped outside with a bundle of herbs in hand, his eyes widened in shock.

Not far from the shop, a large group of warriors was marching down the main road, their presence commanding and intimidating. Bystanders scrambled to clear the way, fear etched on their faces. Lu Tian nearly dropped the herbs in his hands, his face pale with terror.

"What's going on?" Old Mo followed Lu Tian outside, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. The air was thick with tension, the sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the narrow street.

"Oh dear..." Lu Tian's hand instinctively went to the talisman hanging around his neck, a gift from his sister for good fortune.

"Shen and Zhang clans? I don't believe it..." Old Mo's voice was barely a whisper as he recognized the insignia on the warriors' armor. Their polished weapons gleamed in the sunlight, and their arrogance was palpable.

The elderly shopkeeper's heart sank. The rumors were true. A confrontation was inevitable, and it was unfolding right before his eyes.

As the group marched past the shop, one of the warriors dismounted with a grace that belied his imposing stature. His gaze swept over the onlookers, settling on Old Mo and Lu Tian.

"Are you the owner of this establishment?" the warrior asked, his voice deep and resonant. There was no room for argument in his tone.

"Y-yes, I am," Old Mo stammered, his hands trembling slightly. Lu Tian stood frozen, his mouth agape.

The warrior, standing well over two meters tall, was an intimidating figure. His hoarse voice carried an air of authority. "It would be wise for you to conclude your business for today."

Old Mo swallowed hard, his mind racing. "O-of course, sir. May I ask why? We are simply humble merchants going about our daily tasks."

"The Shen and Zhang clans have unfinished business to settle," the warrior replied cryptically. "This street is no place for bystanders." His words sent a shiver through the crowd, and many onlookers quickly dispersed.

Old Mo nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Of course, sir. We will close up immediately." He gestured for Lu Tian to start packing up their wares.

The warrior gave a curt nod before rejoining his men, their armor clanking as they continued down the street. As the sound of their footsteps faded, Old Mo let out a shaky breath and sank onto a nearby stool.

Lu Tian rushed to his side, concern etched on his face. "Old Mo, are you alright?"

The old shopkeeper waved him off, trying to muster some composure. "I'm fine, boy. Just shaken up, is all." He glanced out at the street, watching as the last of the warriors disappeared into the distance. The pair hurriedly began to gather their belongings, the weight of the situation settling heavily on their shoulders.