Dao of Money

Chen Ren hunched over a small desk in his room, the only light came from a half-melted candle. His brush moved swiftly, filling the scroll with characters that came to his mind. He paused, the tip hovering over the paper as he thought of the recent encounter with the old lady at the teahouse. A smile tugged at his lips, just barely there.

The deal with her had been sort of a gamble of its own, but one that turned out better than he had expected.

He had proposed writing a story, one of those romantic tales popular on Earth, but not just any tale— one that could tug at heartstrings and spark a fluttering in the hearts of young women.

There was a problem, though. He had never really read those kinds of books back in his world, just watched them in movies. So, he took the fragments he remembered, twisted them with his imagination and stuff he had read about cultivation, and poured them into the scrolls over the last two days.

Writing here had come with its surprises. His thoughts, once sluggish when it came to putting words down on paper, now flowed like a river. Once he had finished the story, Once he finished the story, Qing He’s approval arrived quickly, allowing him to obtain the book on herbs and beasts he had been searching for.

Yet, the true treasure wasn’t just in the book she’d given him. It was in the dusty, cluttered shelves he’d glimpsed behind her, shelves filled with scrolls and tomes that looked far more valuable than mere stories. Cultivation manuals, techniques, and perhaps even secret arts lay within that room. If he played his cards right, he might get access to those secrets too.

But those aspirations would have to wait. Chen Ren put the scroll aside, pushing thoughts of ancient techniques and hidden power from his mind for now and focusing on his task at hand, from where he was in his room.

Alright, so, focus! He forced himself to look at the notes he’d made in his notebook.

His first goal was much simpler: herbs.

Since his noodle stall was working well, he had thought a lot on his second business idea and landed on a product that he would be able to earn a lot out of, especially with Tang Yuqiu— fragrances, makeup and hygiene products. It was an idea born from a class he’d taken back in his previous life when perfumes and their crafting had been little more than an idle curiosity. Yet now, that knowledge held the potential for a lot of profit.

He picked up another sheet, dipping his brush once more as he began to scribble notes. Memories of perfume-making techniques surfaced, thoughts threading through the delicate process of creating a fragrance.

He jotted down the key ideas that had lingered in his mind: the use of essential oils for heart notes, the balancing of top notes like citrus to create an immediate scent, and the heavier, lasting base notes— musk, sandalwood, or even something rarer. It was a process that required patience, an art of blending nature’s essence into a single, captivating aroma.

Chen Ren’s brush moved swiftly, laying out the steps for his perfume-making process as he included his earthly knowledge with the herbs he had read about.

He wrote about selecting top, middle, and base notes that he thought would fit— whispering lily for the initial burst, martha wood for depth, and silvermist bloom to anchor the blend.

He detailed how to combine them, starting with a few drops of each in a small bottle, adding alcohol to carry the fragrance, and letting it rest for days to meld the scents. He noted the importance of testing the mixture on the skin, adjusting with more alcohol if too strong, and recording each variation to refine what he’d have made—

A faint, high-pitched sound cut through his focus, like the creak of old wood or the whisper of an unseen presence.

Chen Ren’s hand stilled, his breath catching in his throat as his senses sharpened. His gaze darted around the murkily lit room, the tension coiling through his muscles like a spring.

Did one of the creditors send an assassin after me? No, it shouldn’t be. But I still need to check.

He slowly pushed back from the desk, his eyes scanning the corners, each shadow stretching longer than it should under the wavering candlelight.

The silence hung heavy, every beat of his heart echoing in his ears. Then, he spotted the source of the sound— a small, scraggly rat, scuttling along the edge of the room, its tiny claws scraping against the wooden floor.

Chen Ren exhaled, a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He leaned back, feeling the tightness in his shoulders ease.

The rat was a scrawny creature, its fur matted and rough, the pale light casting shadows over its twitching whiskers. It paused for a heartbeat, its tiny eyes glinting like dark beads in the candlelight as it met Chen Ren’s gaze. A cornered look passed between them— one of primal fear on the rat’s part and a flash of something else, a sudden whim, in Chen Ren’s.

He stood up slowly, the wooden chair creaking beneath him. His lips twisted into a grin.

”I didn’t know I had rats in my room,” he muttered, brushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Then, an idea took root, his grin widening. ”Maybe I can try catching it... as a treat for that high-and-mighty cat.” He chuckled under his breath at the thought and, without further hesitation, lunged toward the rat.

But the rat, sensing the danger, moved at a godly speed. It darted between his legs, slipping past the edge of the desk, and scrambled over a stack of scrolls piled in the corner. Chen Ren, not to be outdone, dove after it, his fingers just brushing against the coarse fur before it wriggled free, leaping toward his bed.

He nearly stumbled, catching himself on the bedpost as he shifted through the tight space of his room, his mind racing to keep up with the rat’s frantic scurrying. He winced as his elbow knocked into a porcelain cup, sending it spinning across the desk before it wobbled back to a stop.

He had to be careful— one wrong move and he’d leave a mess for Tang Xiulan to clean up, not to mention the damage to his already limited belongings.

The rat seemed to sense the challenge, scampering with renewed speed, its tiny claws skittering over his notes, then darting under a small chest that held his writing supplies. Chen Ren huffed in frustration, quickly closing the distance, leaping to block its path. For a moment, they both froze— Chen Ren, with his arm outstretched, and the rat, quivering in the corner.

With a final quick motion, he managed to trap the creature beneath his hands, feeling it squirm against his palms. He grinned, ready to praise himself for the little victory, but then a voice from the doorway cut through his moment of triumph like a blade.

”What are you doing, human?” It was a low, annoyed tone, carrying the unmistakable haughtiness of a creature who had seen far too many years to be amused by such antics.

Chen Ren froze, turning slowly to see Yalan standing in the doorway, her amber eyes narrowed to slits, the tip of her tail twitching impatiently— she regarded him with a disdainful look that could have made any mortal feel foolish.

He raised his hands, displaying the wriggling rat with a sheepish grin. ”I thought you might appreciate a fresh catch,” he offered, trying to inject a bit of charm into his voice. ”You know, a snack?”

Yalan’s glare sharpened, her whiskers twitching with irritation. ”Do you think I would stoop so low to eat such a filthy creature?” she replied, her voice dripping with scorn. She cast a disdainful glance at the rat. ”Even a hungry stray would turn its nose up at such a pitiful offering. I have some standards, human. If you want to feed me, try something more... refined. I’d rather eat mud than a rat.”

Chen Ren flinched, his shoulders sagging as he sighed and released the rat, which immediately darted away, disappearing into a crack in the wall. He watched it vanish with exasperation and amusement, muttering under his breath, ”Well, I tried my best for you, you know.”

Yalan, however, only smirked, a flash of amusement in her eyes that quickly turned serious. She flicked her tail toward the door. ”If you truly wish to be useful, stop playing with vermin and start moving. We need to make our way to the forest and return before midnight. The window of opportunity is closing and we need to get on with your training.”

Chen Ren straightened, dusting off his hands as he eyed her warily. ”What’s this about, anyway? And what kind of training are we talking about?”

Yalan turned her head. ”You’ll find out when we get there,” she said. ”Now, hurry up. The herbs we seek will not wait, and neither will your training.”

***

Chen Ren moved through the mist that curled around the city, his steps careful yet swift, Yalan walking silently at his side.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The lanterns that hung from the edges of rooftops did little to pierce the thick veil that blanketed everything in sight. The mist clung to him, cold and damp, and each breath drew in tendrils of vapour that seeped into his lungs.

The city’s boundary had always been like this at night. No matter how clear the day was, once the sun dipped below the horizon and everything turned dark, the fog rolled in, settling over the city like an ancient habit.

Chen Ren had overheard countless theories about it since arriving— rumours spun by merchants, old scholars, and idle cityfolks who enjoyed the mystery of it all.

Some said it was the work of the sect master from the Soaring Sword Sect, his power so great that he could summon an array to ward off beasts from the nearby forest, keeping them from straying too close to the city’s walls. Others believed it was the result of a natural formation, a confluence of spiritual energies that gathered each night, creating a fog that acted as a barrier.

Then there were the more mundane explanations— tales of strange plants that grew along the city’s borders, exhaling mist as they absorbed the moon’s light, or ancient streams hidden beneath the earth, releasing the vapour into the cool night air. Whatever the cause, the fog had been a fixture of the city for centuries, an unchanging fact of life that everyone learned to accept.

Chen Ren, however, had little interest in deciphering its origins. It served its purpose tonight, helping to mask his movements as he and Yalan slipped through the twisting paths that led to the city’s edge.

The mist muffled the sounds of their footsteps, and he moved like a fox, covering a large distance in a matter of minutes, again thankful for the fact that he had been transmigrated as a cultivator.

As they approached the outer gates, the outline of two guards materialised through the fog, their figures indistinct but solid against the shifting veil of mist.

Their armour clinked softly as they turned, their expressions obscured beneath helmets that reflected the faint glow of nearby lanterns. But when Chen Ren revealed the faint glimmer of his cultivation aura, they barely gave him a second glance.

One of them, an older man with a streak of silver in his beard, grunted a curt acknowledgement and bowed slightly before waving him through without so much as a question.

Since the city had cultivators, guards seemed to let them be and not interfere. He was sure that he wasn’t the only one who had thought of training in the nearby forest.

Chen Ren slipped past the gate with a nod, feeling the slight tension in his shoulders ease. He had grown used to this reaction from most guards— he had discovered that most common folk treated cultivators with a blend of awe and wariness. It was a small advantage, but one he’d learned to use well.

The mist beyond the gate was thicker still. He could barely see through the thick fog.

But he knew that the forest should be in the distance. Chen Ren’s breath formed soft clouds before him, mingling with the drifting vapour as he trudged forward, Yalan moving with unerring grace beside him.

”Keep up,” Yalan said, her voice a low murmur that barely disturbed the quiet. “We don’t have time to waste. If we delay too long, we’ll miss our chance.”

Chen Ren gritted his teeth, adjusting his stride to match her pace. The mist wrapped around them, swallowing the city behind and leaving only the path ahead.

He moved deeper into the forest, the shadows shifting around him as the mist thinned, replaced by the looming silhouettes of ancient trees. He had initially planned to gather the herbs in the morning when the sun would illuminate the undergrowth, making the search easier. But Yalan had insisted on venturing out at night, her reasoning delivered with her usual disdainful tone.

According to her, training under the moon’s glow would force him to adapt to the challenges of nighttime. Nocturnal beasts often come out during this hour and if he was going to learn how to deal with cultivation shenanigans, it was important to fight them.

“Nocturnal beasts have their dangers,” she had said, her tail swishing with a faint hiss through the air. “Many of them become stronger under the moon’s lunar qi, their instincts sharper. It’s the perfect time for training. Besides, no one will be around to interrupt us.”

Chen Ren had reluctantly agreed, knowing that she had a point. Moreover, nighttime brought out not only predators that moved with deadly grace, but also certain plants to bloom— herbs that hid their true qualities during the day, their petals and leaves only unfurling in the moonlight to release their potent essence.

He had a few of such herbs in his list and if he wanted to make a perfume that could truly captivate people, he needed to gather them.

The forest was alive with soft rustlings and distant calls, sounds that threaded through the quiet like a constant, murmuring breath.

He moved carefully over the uneven ground, the notes he had scrawled earlier clutched behind him in a bag. The mist lingered here, draped low over the ground, obscuring the roots and rocks that threatened to trip him with every step.

His eyes moved between the shadows, scanning the undergrowth for any sign of the herbs he sought

After what felt like hours of searching, he spotted the faint glimmer of moonlight reflecting off a cluster of leaves, their edges lined with a pale, silver sheen. He crouched down, brushing aside the underbrush to reveal a low-growing plant, its buds glowing faintly in the dark.

”Martha wood,” he muttered to himself, recognizing the herb from his notes. It was known for its fragrant oil and smelled like lavender, a key ingredient that could add a lingering, mysterious scent to his perfume.

Carefully, he plucked the leaves, mindful not to damage the delicate roots that held the plant to the soil. He tucked them into a small pouch, his fingers working with the precision of someone who had done this before, albeit in a different world.

He straightened up, his gaze sweeping the shadows again, his ears straining for any signs of movement.

With Yalan by his side, Chen Ren didn’t feel the same sense of dread he might have if he were alone.

She rarely showed it, but he could sense her power, a quiet, coiled strength beneath her haughty demeanour. If something truly dangerous emerged, he knew she could handle it. It allowed him to focus on his task without constantly looking over his shoulder, without that creeping fear that something might be stalking him through the darkness.

He found another herb tucked near the base of a twisted tree, its flowers closed like tiny fists, waiting for the moonlight to coax them open. This one, a whispering lily, was known for its faint, almost ethereal scent that could lend a subtle layer to his creation. He gently harvested the blossoms, placing them next to the other leaves in his pouch.

Satisfied with his progress, he started toward a small riverbank nestled deeper in the woods. He simply followed the waters, trying to find what he needed: silvermist bloom.

But before he could move further he felt Yalan suddenly halt in her tracks. Her ears twitched and she fixed her gaze toward a dark cluster of trees beyond the lake’s edge.

“It seems like you might finally encounter a beast worthy of my taste,” she remarked, her voice cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Chen Ren stopped, turning to face her. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he tried to peer through the shadows.

“A beast is nearby,” Yalan replied, a hint of amusement in her tone. “A Tier 1 creature, nothing you should fear. But it’s enough for some practice. You need to fight it.”

He stiffened, glancing toward the darkness where Yalan’s eyes were fixed. His pulse quickened a mixture of nervousness and reluctant excitement stirring in his chest.

“Are you sure I can fight it? I don’t think I told you before, but the only beast I fought in my world was a small swarm of mosquitoes,” he admitted, feeling the weight of his unease settle over him. “Also, I only know one fist technique, and even that isn’t very polished.”

“It’s just a Tier 1 beast. If things go poorly, I’ll pull you out before you get hurt,” she replied, the confidence in her tone leaving little room for argument.

Chen Ren swallowed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

He knew that if he wanted to survive in this world, he had to confront this fear sooner or later. The structure of this world, built on the strength of cultivators and the endless struggle against beasts and rivals, demanded courage. Better to start with a small step under the watchful eye of his unusual mentor than to be caught unprepared when real danger came knocking.

“Alright,” he said slowly, nodding as if to reassure himself. “Let’s do this.” He clenched his fists, feeling a tingling in his core as he tried to steady his breathing, and began to move forward.

They moved deeper into the forest until the trees began to thin, following the shimmering surface of the river. The mist had settled low here, hugging the ground and drifting like ghostly veils over the water’s edge. But what drew Chen Ren’s attention wasn’t the serene view— it was the grisly scene unfolding just a few steps from the shore.

Near a cluster of gnarled roots that twisted into the water, a creature crouched, tearing into the carcass of a normal deer with savage hunger.

It resembled a rat and was nearly as large as a wild boar, its matted, bristling fur slick with dark stains of fresh blood. Its long, crooked teeth gleamed in the moonlight as it dug into the flesh, muscles rippling beneath its coarse hide with every vicious bite. Tufts of fur were missing in places, revealing patches of rough, scarred skin, as if it had survived countless brawls in its time.

Its eyes, small and beady, glowed with a faint red light, casting an eerie reflection on the bloodied ground around it. Even crouched over its meal, the creature exuded a wild, untamed ferocity, the scent of blood mingling with the damp air, sharp enough to make Chen Ren wrinkle his nose.

The deer lay limp beneath the monstrous rat’s claws, its legs bent at unnatural angles, neck twisted and broken.

Chen Ren swallowed hard, his breath catching as he tried to keep his voice steady. “This... This thing is really Tier 1?” he asked, his gaze flicking nervously from the rat beast to Yalan. “It looks tough.”

Yalan, perched on a nearby rock with a bored expression, simply flicked her tail and gave him a sidelong glance. “It’s nothing you can’t handle,” she replied, a hint of a challenge in her tone. “Don’t worry.”

But Chen Ren couldn’t quite quell the nerves that tightened in his chest as he took in the rat beast’s powerful limbs and the sharp, glinting claws that dug into the deer’s flesh. Compared to the small rat he had fought, this one looked more like a predator than prey.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before stepping forward, feeling the cool air hitting his face.

The rat beast’s ears twitched, and it jerked its head up, crimson eyes locking onto Chen Ren.

Its mouth hung open, revealing rows of sharp, crooked teeth stained with the remnants of its meal. They stared at each other, the air thick with the tension of the encounter. The creature’s nostrils flared as it took in his scent, and for a heartbeat, everything was still— just the faint rustle of leaves and the quiet lap of water against the shore.

Then, with a guttural snarl that seemed to rattle the very trees, the rat beast lunged. It moved with a speed that belied its bulky frame, a blur of matted fur and flashing claws.

Chen Ren’s breath hitched, and his feet seemed to root themselves to the spot as he watched the mass of muscle and fangs hurtling toward him, his mind going blank with the sudden rush of terror.

The ground seemed to shake beneath the creature’s charge, and all Chen Ren could do was brace himself as every cell of his body came alive with the sound of snapping branches and the beast’s roar that almost deafened him.