The silver Taichu cargo airships cruised south across the cloud-draped peaks, leaving the smoking chimneys of the Nine Spirit-Quarries behind.
Below the flight deck, fifty thousand acres of lush green meadows and emerald hills unfurled toward the horizon.
This vast expanse was Taichu Sanctuary Valley, the designated headquarters for Lin Mo’s expanding immortal enterprise.
Lin Mo stood on the observation balcony of the lead flagship, feeling the crisp mountain wind whip against his charcoal trench coat.
Behind him, Su Wan reviewed the latest logistical spreadsheets on a glowing tablet.
“Chairman Lin,” Su Wan said, looking up from the screen. “All five cargo airships have docked at the valley’s northern depot. Twenty thousand tons of seasoned spirit-timber and raw star-iron have been offloaded without a scratch.”
“Good,” Lin Mo replied, taking a sip of warm jasmine tea. “Grand Elder Kunwu thought an embargo would starve us. Instead, we bought his entire supply chain for ten million stones and walked away one billion richer.”
As the airship touched down on the green terrace, a deep, resonant hum vibrated within Lin Mo’s chest.
