Dao of Money

Tang Xiulan walked quietly to the kitchen, her gaze fixed on the distant mountains that were visible from outside the chamber halls, but her thoughts were wandering away, wrapped around the figure of a man who only recently was known as one of the most arrogant and hedonistic men in Cloud Mist City.

Chen Ren— the young master she temporarily served, had been quite the individual whom she had gotten the chance to observe a few too many times to her liking.

He was bold, brash, and full of empty boasts— but now, she found herself at a loss with this new persona. He had been flaunting his cultivation, tossing around his weight in the city, and flirting with anything that moved, but now…

Now he was different.

It started after the defeat by Li Xuan. It hadn’t been something small, the young master had almost died in front of many people. That day had shaken him to his core, she could tell.

But instead of the loud proclamations of revenge or desperate attempts to regain his lost face, he had retreated into himself.

He kept to his chambers, scribbling away in a language she didn’t recognize. She had taken a peek at it when she had entered his room to clean and found the language unfamiliar and foreign.

Tang Xiulan wasn’t illiterate and had been taught the common script. But it wasn’t that.

Moreover, there was a politeness to him now that hadn’t existed before, a quiet respect in the way he spoke and acted. Not just with her, but with everyone.

He even talked about starting a business, of all things! The idea was so far removed from the man she once knew that it made her wonder if he was even the same person.Is he the same person or a shapeshifter? No, if that was the case, I would have already been dead.

Xiulan couldn’t shake the feeling that he was playing some kind of game, that this was all a facade. Yet when she looked into his eyes, she saw something she hadn’t seen before— a light, a spark of purpose and clarity that had been missing before.

They were not the eyes of a defeated man, nor of one who sought to reclaim his former glory through the same reckless means.

No, these were the eyes of someone who had glimpsed something greater, something beyond the petty squabbles of sects and clans, beyond the simple pleasures of life.

And that unsettled her more than anything.

The man she once knew might have been a fool, but he was a predictable fool. This new version, with his quiet intensity and strange behaviour, was a mystery she wasn’t sure she wanted to solve.

Though she was certain he’d give up sooner or later, her confidence wavered when she discovered the reason behind his visits to the stall owners. It was a strategy so unexpected that it caught her off guard.

Her mind drifted back to a few months prior when the family head had handed the young miss, Tang Yuqiu, a sum of money to start a business. To test her capabilities. But, she had faltered at the very first hurdle, unable to secure a permit due to the officials’ endless delays and other lazy reasons— and her father had barred her from using the family name to sway things in her favour.

But Chen Ren… Chen Ren was already ahead of where the young miss had stumbled, though she doubted his approach would lead to anything substantial.

The idea that he could create a dish unique enough to captivate the entire empire seemed like just another empty boast— a large but empty boast.

So when he had asked her to bring rice and a mortar, claiming he would craft this so-called legendary dish, she nodded and fetched the sack of rice that had been sitting in the kitchen, along with a mortar.

As she handed him the items, a part of her wanted to see him fail— wanted to see that spark in his eyes and movements extinguished by the harsh reality that the world wasn’t so easily conquered, things couldn’t be easily achieved.

When she gave the items, Chen Ren took them from her hands without a word, his expression unreadable.

Then, to her surprise, he asked, “Can you help me out? This might take a while.”

There was no hint of the usual bravado in his tone, just a calm expectation that she would follow his lead.

Tang Xiulan nodded. “Okay.”

They started by rinsing, then soaking the rice, a process that took six to seven hours— an eternity in Xiulan’s mind. She had never known a dish to require such long and careful preparation, and the repetitive nature of it wore on her patience.

When it was finally done, Chen Ren turned around and looked at her.

He handed her the mortar. “Grind it,” he said, leaving no room for debate.

Xiulan couldn’t help but wonder if she was the one making the dish while he simply watched, but she complied nonetheless, her curiosity piqued despite the work.

Either way, even if the entire thing ends up being an utter waste of time, she was just a maid. How could she defy the young master? Also, they had already spent quite a lot of time on this. Washing rice then soaking them for almost seven hours… Really?

Xiulan shook her head and focused on grinding the rice, resulting in a smooth paste.

Throughout the process, she repeatedly asked what they were making, but Chen Ren remained tight-lipped, offering nothing more than a cryptic smile and a promise that she would soon see for herself.

Finally, she finished her task and turned to him.

“And now?” she asked.

“Now, you watch.”

He prepared a bamboo steamer and lined it with a cloth. Then, he poured a thin layer of the rice batter before closing the lid. After a minute, he opened the steamer and carefully removed the cooked layer of rice, placing it on a cutting board. He poured another layer of batter and repeated the process until all was used.

Once the cooked rice had slightly cooled, he rolled the layers and cut them into thin strips, his hands moving with unexpected precision. The silence between them was punctuated only by the soft rustle of the wind outside.

Xiulan had never seen anything like it before. She watched, half in wonder, half in disbelief, as he took the strips and they moved back to the kitchen.

There, he gathered the strips in a bowl, their texture smooth and translucent. The simplicity of the act belied the anticipation that had built up in the hours of preparation.

“What is this called, young master?” she asked once again, not able to contact her curiosity.

He smiled. “Noodles.”

Tang Xiulan had never heard that before, but before she could ask more questions about it, another order came from Chen Ren.

“I want you to bring me vegetables. Whatever you have, bok choy, spinach, mushrooms, green onions, scallions, carrots, broccoli. Make haste,” Chen Ren said while she tried to keep everything in her mind.

The list wasn’t hard to memorise so she quickly walked off to fetch them, still unsure of how the noodles might taste.

After she brought them back, they chopped the vegetables together, the slamming of the knife against the board being the only noise in the room. From time to time, she would glance at the young master and wonder how he was so skillful with a knife.

She knew about his skills with the sword due to his boasting, but she had no idea it would also make him proficient in chopping.

“What should we do next?” she asked once all the vegetables she managed to bring were cut into small pieces. Her question went unanswered as Chen Ren walked around the small space to reach the boiling water.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“Hand me the vegetables,” he commanded.

She quickly took it to him and watched him throw them into the pot. A few minutes later, he scooped them out and added them to the rice noodles. The smell made Xiulan’s stomach grumble.

He turned and handed the bowl to Xiulan, who blinked at it in mild confusion.

“These ‘noodles’, are they for me?” she asked, tilting her head at the unfamiliar dish.

“Yes, and these are called rice noodles. There are more varieties of them depending on the ingredients you use,” he replied, his tone casual as if the name of the dish wasn’t strange at all. Seeing the bewilderment on her face, he simply added, “Go on, try it and tell me what you think.”

Xiulan hesitated, the nerves evident in the way she handled the chopsticks. She took a small bite, half-expecting the dish to be as strange in taste as its name.

To her surprise, the noodles were chewy, with a satisfying texture that paired well with the boiled vegetables. It could use a bit more seasoning, but the initial taste wasn’t bad at all. It was… pleasant.

“It tastes good,” she admitted, her voice carrying a hint of surprise.

Chen Ren nodded and took the bowl from her, tasting the noodles himself. But unlike her, his expression shifted into a frown as soon as the noodles hit his tongue.

“It doesn’t even taste half as good as ramen,” he muttered and all Tang Xiulan could think of was one thing.

What is this thing called ramen now?

***

As Chen Ren set the bowl down, his mind churned with dissatisfaction.

The rice noodles had come out well enough for a first attempt, but they were far from perfect. The texture was decent, and the flavour was acceptable, but “acceptable” wouldn’t be enough if he wanted to turn this into a product that could dominate the market.

The memory of Xiulan’s reaction played in his mind— her initial surprise, the cautious bite, and the eventual approval. She enjoyed it, yes, but she hadn’t been blown away. And that wasn’t good enough for him. He couldn’t afford to settle for mediocrity, not when the stakes were this high.

If he was going to make a name for himself, if he was going to sell this dish across the empire, then it needed to be more than just acceptable. It needed to be exceptional. Every bite had to leave an impression, something that would linger on the tongue and make people crave more.

Hence, from that day onward, he began experimenting in earnest.

Each day brought new variations, new attempts to refine the texture, balance the flavours, and elevate the simple ingredients into something that’d leave his mark behind. He knew he had a long way to go, but he was determined.

Because if he knew anything, it was that food could be something that would be etched into one’s mind like a tattoo, whether it was good or bad. Foods were memories, and they could easily shock the taste buds, digging into the senses of one’s very being.

Another important thing when it came to them was their scent.

He needed his noodles to be something that people crave daily— and for any dish to truly succeed, the details had to be perfect. For that, experimenting was the key.

If he didn’t dive deep into each aspect of the process, his efforts would be wasted, and customers wouldn’t return.

He must not give up, especially when his life was at stake.

Fortunately, the Tang Clan had an abundant supply of rice because one of their businesses was selling rice, and with the guest room courtyard currently unoccupied, he had the space and freedom to test his recipes.

So, each day, he set to work, creating rice noodles with a focus that bordered on obsession.

He experimented with everything: the exact amount of rice, how long he soaked it, the boiling time, the vegetables, the salt.

Every evening, he called Tang Xiulan to taste the newest batch, using her feedback to make incremental changes. She was candid with her opinions, sometimes too much so, but it was exactly what he needed. Each critique helped him refine the recipe further.

At the same time, Chen Ren kept a careful eye on the cost of ingredients.

He knew that while rice was relatively cheap, it alone wouldn’t be enough to draw in a large customer base. The addition of salt and vegetables, though necessary for flavour, also increased the overall cost, which was something he had to keep in mind if he wanted the business to be profitable.

He realised that creating a sauce to accompany the noodles—especially a spicy one— could be a key factor in making his dish stand out.

But before he could even think about adding that extra layer of flavour, he needed to perfect the texture of the noodles themselves. They had to be more than just edible; they had to be something that left a lasting impression, something that people would come back for.

Fortunately, it seemed that Chen Ren’s efforts were paying off.

Xiulan’s once sceptical eyes now watched him with anticipation every day as he prepared the noodles. He could tell that she expected something different every time she brought the chopstick to her lips.

But it wasn’t just her— word of his daily experiments had spread among the servants, and even a young maid, who was too enthusiastic to know about the dish and taste, began showing up regularly, eager to sample it and offer her thoughts.

Her name was Lihua and she had been supportive throughout, not just with trying the dish, but also with words of motivation. It seemed as if this young maid rooted for Chen Ren due to the flirting of his predecessor.

Whenever she was done with tasting a meal, she’d say things like, “Young master, I will come by tomorrow too. It was better than yesterday and I feel less boiling time would do wonders. Firmer noodles like two days ago would be great, or it could be my personal preference. Either way, eating a dish from your own hands seems like a dream.”

Xiulan squinted her eyes at Lihua before turning to the noodles. “I prefer softer noodles. Maybe young master, you should try adding oil to the boiling water to prevent sticking and to add a subtle flavour.”

Chen Ren nodded. He had thought of it considering there were so many ways that noodles could be made.

“How’s the broth?” He asked.

“The salt ratio is perfect, I feel,” the younger maid replied with excitement. Xiulan on the other hand, simply nodded along.

“Thanks,” Chen Ren collected the dishes and went back, knowing the other maids would come rushing in soon. It was quite… exciting.

At first, Chen Ren thought they were merely being helpful, giving him feedback to refine his recipe. But the stars in their eyes and the way they eagerly awaited each new serving told a different story— they genuinely liked the noodles.

A small part of him was tempted to start charging them, but since he wasn’t paying for the ingredients, he decided against it. Besides, he didn’t want to risk discouraging them from coming back; their enthusiasm was valuable in its own right. These taste testers were the key to refining his dish.

As he continued to make noodles for them every day, he found an unexpected joy in the process. A type of joy that couldn’t be put into words but warmed the heart from the inside when he thought about it.

Creating something that others enjoyed was fulfilling in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

While his ultimate goal was to make money, the satisfaction he felt when he saw the pleasure on their faces made the effort worthwhile— at least for now.

I always thought being a full-time cook was nothing but stress, but was this how Gordon Ramsay and Marco Pierre felt? Maybe I should’ve tried working at my uncle’s restaurant, I may have had a hidden talent for cooking.

He started piling the bowls so that he could be ready to serve when the maids came rushing in.

It was during these moments of focus, that he noticed something strange.

His qi would occasionally flare up in his core, a sudden surge of energy that caught him off guard. He felt it everywhere to the tip of his fingers. A sensation, a tingle— a rush of something.

It happened a few times as he worked on the noodles, but since there were no other effects, he didn’t dwell on it too much.

Like all those times, he chalked it up to his lack of training since arriving in this world, dismissing it as a minor side effect of his current lifestyle.

For now, his focus was entirely on perfecting his noodles.

With each new batch of noodles, he refined his process, and more and more servants began lining up in the guest room courtyard.

Their eager faces waited for their turn to taste his creation. It almost felt like he was already running a stall, and the idea of taking the next step— moving outside and starting a real business— began to take root in his mind.

***

Tang Yuqiu, the young miss of the Tang family, returned from overseeing one of the family’s businesses. There was no work, but just checking if everything was going right was also a part of running a business.

As she entered the main courtyard that evening, she was struck by the unusual stillness. The place was eerily quiet, with not a single servant in sight.

Normally, they would at least be picking up water from the well and there would be the sound of footsteps or chatter, but today it was as if the place was abandoned.

Frowning, she turned to her maid, who always accompanied her.

“Where is everyone?” Tang Yuqiu asked, her voice laced with irritation.

Her maid hesitated for a moment before replying, “There’s been a rumour, miss… about Young master Chen Ren. They say he’s been making a dish for the servants every evening in the guest kitchen. They could be there.”

Tang Yuqiu scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Chen Ren? That idiot? He can’t do anything right. What could he possibly be making that’s worth their time?”

Despite her dismissive words, curiosity got the better of her, and she motioned for her maid to lead the way. As they made their way through the corridors towards the guest courtyard that was adjacent to the main one, the distant sound of chatter and laughter grew louder, guiding them toward the source of the commotion.

Finally, they turned a corner and came upon a long line of servants stretching out from the guest room courtyard. Even some of the older servants had joined the queue, waiting patiently with eager expressions.

At the front, Tang Yuqiu spotted Chen Ren and Tang Xiulan working together, preparing something and handling the bowls with utmost care.

The moment the servants noticed Tang Yuqiu’s arrival, the lively atmosphere froze.

All eyes turned toward her, the air thick with tension as everyone stepped back, unsure of what to expect.

Tang Yuqiu marched forward, her gaze narrowing as she approached Chen Ren.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked loudly, unable to hold what she was witnessing.

Without looking up, Chen Ren responded with slight irritation from being disturbed, “Who the hell are you?”