The scent of newly tilled soil and sun-warmed leaves lingered in the air. Lin Feng knelt beside a patch of blooming coriander in the outer fields of the inner realm. The leaves were fuller, more vibrant than anything outside. The irrigation system he had installed using parts from the hidden ores was functioning at peak efficiency.
It wasn't just the environment that was thriving—it was his vision.
But as with all things that grow rapidly, so too did the pressure around him.
---
Early the next morning, Lin Feng met with Liu Ying and Zhao Yun at a teahouse in town. The mood was calm, but tension pulsed beneath the surface.
Liu Ying was first to speak. "I spoke to the accounting agency that handles the three shell companies. They received an inquiry last week—anonymous, but requesting confirmation of ownership for 'Yunhe Produce Transport.'"
Zhao Yun frowned. "That's one of our cleaner fronts."
"Exactly," Liu Ying nodded. "I traced the IP address of the inquiry to an office park in Jiangnan City—belongs to the Zhao Clan's seafood subsidiary."
"The same clan that tried to bribe the inspector," Lin Feng murmured, sipping his tea. "So they're not done yet."
"No," Liu Ying said. "They're regrouping. Probably think you're a threat to their supply chain network."
Zhao Yun leaned forward. "Do you want us to freeze operations through that company? Shift deliveries?"
Lin Feng shook his head.
"No. I want you to triple the deliveries through Yunhe. Give them more data to dig through. Let them burn their fingers chasing shadows."
Zhao Yun grinned. "Smokescreen again?"
"Not just smoke," Lin Feng said. "A full-on wildfire—of misinformation."
---
By the next week, Yunhe Produce was suddenly handling a suspiciously high volume of "blue-grade organic water spinach" and "snow-fed alpine garlic."
Neither product existed.
Fake invoices were generated. Dummy trucks logged routes through rural side roads and delivery endpoints that didn't exist.
When the Zhao Clan dug deeper, all they found were closed gates, wrong addresses, and warehouses full of perfectly ordinary garlic bound for school canteens.
Lin Feng wanted them to waste time. Because while they hunted ghosts, he was taking another major step:
Influencing local power structures.
---
Lin Feng knew that in the countryside, more important than wealth was who respected you.
So he began investing in ways that didn't scream power—but whispered leadership.
First, he quietly replaced the water filtration system at the local elementary school. No nameplate. No ribbon-cutting. Just a box of new filters delivered at night and installed by a "private donor."
Next, he restored the long-abandoned village reading room.
Using timber and jade-inlaid tiles from the inner realm, he personally renovated the room over several evenings, leaving the original wall scrolls untouched. He installed new bookshelves and donated hundreds of titles—ranging from agricultural guides to Chinese classics.
Old villagers noticed. One by one, they started calling him "Little Feng" again, a name from his childhood. The tone had shifted—no longer casual. There was reverence now.
Then came the medical van.
One of Lin Feng's shell companies "partnered" with a health startup to provide a once-a-month visit from a licensed doctor and nurse to Chen Valley. Blood pressure checks, glucose tests, minor treatments—all free.
No one knew who paid for it.
But everyone benefited.
And the whispers grew.
> "That quiet Lin boy—he must have backing." "No young man does all this without reason." "Maybe he's working for a government program."
Lin Feng never corrected them.
Let them believe what they wanted. Truth didn't matter—only perception.
---
In the inner realm, the newest section of forest had fully matured. Towering pines, golden larches, and a grove of cherry blossoms gave the landscape a majestic calm.
Lin Feng stood beneath the trees, a blueprint in hand.
It was for a scenic trail, a 1.2 km walking path around the crystal river that curved through the inner realm.
He planned to use this area for two things:
1. To host private guests—investors, media, and select partners.
2. To test hospitality services using inner realm produce and aesthetics.
He had already built a lakeside pavilion—white stone floors, bamboo panels, and silk lanterns hanging from carved eaves.
Zhao Yun dubbed it The Hidden Pavilion.
Eventually, when the time was right, this place would host tastings, quiet negotiations, and invitations no one could refuse.
---
Back in the real world, the food blogger Chen Yuxin struck again.
He released a short video titled:
> "A Farm That Doesn't Exist – But You Can Taste It."
The visuals were stunning—mist over cabbage fields, morning dew on tomatoes, the sizzle of stir-fried greens in a cast iron wok.
No names. No map.
Just the voiceover: "Somewhere in the rural South, someone is farming the way our grandparents dreamed."
Within days, Lin Feng's online storefront was flooded.
RuralCloud E-Market hit its highest-ever monthly sale.
He immediately shut it down.
> "Due to seasonal limitations, we will not accept new orders this month."
Instead of complaints, the comments overflowed with envy and loyalty:
> "I ordered last month. The lettuce still tasted fresh after a week!" "Please restock next month!" "Whatever this is—it's real. I can feel it."
---
But success also brought risk.
Zhao Yun walked into Lin Feng's office one evening, expression serious.
"We have a problem."
Lin Feng closed his ledger. "Go on."
"There's a girl—Fang Ruo. Graduate student in agricultural economics. She's been snooping around town."
Lin Feng raised an eyebrow. "Snooping how?"
"Interviewing farmers. Asking about independent growers, unconventional logistics. She's smart—too smart."
"Who's backing her?"
"Unknown. Could be her thesis. Or she's working for someone."
Lin Feng thought for a moment. "Set up a meeting. I'll talk to her myself."
---
The next morning, under the pretense of visiting the reading room, Lin Feng encountered Fang Ruo.
She was sharp-eyed, polite, and clearly suspicious of coincidences.
"I've heard some interesting things about this village," she said. "Incredible crop yields. Advanced logistics. Products reaching luxury buyers without a traceable brand."
Lin Feng smiled calmly. "Sounds like a great thesis topic."
She didn't smile back. "You're too clean. No one here claims credit. But something big is happening."
Lin Feng said nothing.
So she continued, "If this is a grey-market setup, someone will eventually find out."
He tilted his head. "What if it's something simpler? What if it's just people who care more than usual, working quietly?"
She frowned. "That's not how this country works."
Lin Feng leaned closer.
"Maybe that's the problem."
They stared at each other for a moment—equal parts challenge and curiosity.
Fang Ruo didn't press further.
But he could tell—she wasn't finished.
---
Later that day, Xu Yuhan called.
"I heard from a friend at the agricultural department—some student has been filing data requests about rural productivity spikes. Unusual requests."
Lin Feng sighed. "Yes. She's already sniffing around."
"Want me to run interference?"
Lin Feng hesitated.
"No. Not yet. Let's see where her curiosity leads."
"Still playing the long game?" she teased.
"It's the only game worth playing."
---
By evening, Lin Feng was back in the inner realm, walking the new forest trail.
Birds chirped. The wind was soft. The Hidden Pavilion glowed under starlight.
He sat by the riverbank, plucked a cherry blossom, and watched it float.
Around him, ten thousand square meters of paradise lay blooming—untouched by the outside world.
For now.
Because soon, he would start planting a different seed:
Influence. Quiet, patient, and unstoppable.
---
End of Chapter 18