Here comes the money

The freezing temperatures weakened metal, making their weapons brittle. The issue became glaringly obvious when Meyu, who had been assisting with supplies, called out in frustration, holding up a snapped sword. "

We keep losing weapons to this damn cold!"

Hearing the commotion, Layla, Jiang, and Lin Wuye approached the gathered workers, all of whom were frowning at a pile of cracked and chipped blades. Layla's expression mirrored theirs—this was a major problem. Swords that couldn't hold an edge, staffs that risked splintering in mid-strike—in real combat, this could mean death.

Jiang crossed his arms. "We can't just coat everything in Qi nonstop. That'll drain anyone too fast."

Layla thought for a moment. "Maybe there's a way to reinforce the weapons? Like a protective layer—something to keep the metal from becoming too brittle."

The workers exchanged looks, clearly considering it.

"Or..." Meyu suddenly cut in, her tone far too nonchalant. "We could just heat the weapons before use and store them properly. You know. Like normal people."

Layla blinked. "...What?"

One of the workers sighed. "Yeah, we already figured that out, Sect Leader. We built insulated storage racks and keep them near the forge. We just called you guys over 'cause it was funny watching you frown so hard."

Layla stared at them. Jiang exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. Lin Wuye, ever the composed master, simply nodded in approval. "A simple yet effective solution."

Meyu slapped Layla's back with a grin. "Look at that. You overcomplicated things again."

Layla groaned, muttering, "I'm never living this down, am I?"

Meyu smirked. "Nope."

Before Layla could complain further, she turned to her father. "How long until this brutal cold settles down?"

Lin Wuye, arms crossed, eyed the frost-covered courtyard. "A few more weeks at most. This is the harshest part of the season. After that, the worst should pass."

Layla exhaled, watching her breath curl into the air. "We're lucky to have Master Daokan and Atlas make that deal for the sect. And Meyu, with her oversight." She glanced at her friend.

"What's the next step, then?"

Meyu's grin widened in an all-too-familiar way. "Oh, I'm glad you asked!" She dramatically pulled out the contract, flipping through the parchment before slamming a finger onto a tiny clause at the bottom. "We're going to turn the Silver Lotus Sect into an attraction spot and commercialize our martial arts style!"

Layla, Jiang, and Lin Wuye visibly recoiled.

"Absolutely not!" Lin Wuye said flatly.

"Over my dead body." Jiang added.

"I refuse to turn the sect into some tourist gimmick!" Layla snapped.

Meyu, unfazed, tapped the contract again. "Ah, but behold! This tiny little clause here says the Ryl Trading Company reserves the right to monetize the sect if needed for survivability."

Jiang squinted. "That's barely readable. How small is that writing?"

Meyu grinned, holding up her fingers. "Size 4 script. Just enough to be legal!"

Layla groaned. "Meyu, I swear—"

Meyu clapped her hands together. "Don't worry! It's just a minor adjustment. A little training hall here, a demonstration there—maybe a few guided tours! Just imagine: 'Come witness the legendary Silver Lotus Sect! Live battles! Exclusive lessons! And a chance to dine with the sect leader!'"

Layla buried her face in her hands. "This is a nightmare."

Lin Wuye's expression darkened. "We cannot simply give away the sect's techniques. They have been passed down for generations."

Jiang nodded firmly. "Yeah, this is our legacy. We're not selling it."

Meyu gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if personally offended. "Do I look like some money-hungry fraud to you?" She then blinked.

"Wait—don't answer that."

Layla, arms crossed, eyed her warily. "Then what exactly are you suggesting?"

Meyu's grin stretched wider. "We don't give away the techniques. We just… train people with our martial arts."

Jiang frowned. "Isn't that the same thing?"

Meyu clicked her tongue. "Of course not. Think about it! We make them pay for exclusive training sessions—but, and here's the genius part, we only teach them the basics. Just enough for them to want more but not enough to actually learn the full techniques."

Lin Wuye rubbed his forehead. "This is ridiculous. It's basically a scam but legal"

Jiang sighed. "I don't like this."

Meyu, completely ignoring them, unfurled the contract dramatically, pointing to a specific section in exaggerated fashion. "Behold! The tiny clause that says, and I quote, 'Ryl Trading reserves the right to ensure the sect survivability by any means'''

Layla squinted. "That's… really tiny."

Jiang leaned in. "That's basically microscopic."

Meyu wagged her finger. "Legally binding microscopic."

Lin Wuye exhaled. "This is foolishness."

Layla sighed. "You're just like Atlas."

Meyu threw an arm around Layla, grinning. "Ah, you understand me so well. So, we all agree, right?"

The three of them exchanged glances before collectively groaning.

"Fine." Layla muttered. "But if this turns into a disaster—"

"It won't!" Meyu interrupted cheerfully, clapping her hands. "Now, let's talk pricing!"