Dao of Money

Despite the relentless sabotage of their supply lines by the Bai Hu Trade Association, Heavenly Fragrances grew stronger with each passing day. It was as though the heavens themselves had taken a liking to Chen Ren in this world.

As the time went on, he felt more relaxed. Unlike the initial days where his eyes always scanned for threats, now he felt at ease. Obviously, he wasn’t foolish enough to think that Bai Hu trades wouldn’t try something new, but something had shifted. A quiet confidence had settled into his bones.

His second business—the one that had started out as little more than a daring gamble— was thriving, and Chen Ren could no longer ignore the fact that it was moving on its own, gaining momentum as if the tides themselves had shifted in his favour. And that was worthy of a celebration on its own.

Deep down, he knew it was all due to the hard work and careful planning that had been put into work. Which would result in getting back his medallion sooner.

It was no longer a pressing worry. The debts, too, that had once seemed like a huge mountain before him, were beginning to shrink in size.

The surge of success also carried a surge of energy within him. As his businesses flourished, so too did his cultivation. The energy in his dantian flowed like a river in flood, ready to burst forth and carry him to the next star.

He felt his strength growing every day and his body humming with vitality, his soul expanding.

But Yalan had warned him not to rush. “Your foundation is not solid enough,” she had told him one evening. “Rushing ahead will only make your cultivation unstable. Strength gained without a firm foundation is like a house built on sand.”

Chen Ren had understood the truth in her words. He knew that if he advanced too quickly, the power he gained would slip through his fingers like water. So, he had agreed to wait. His dantian swelled with energy every day, but he focused instead on his basic techniques, his footwork, his breath control, and his internal strength. He would wait until the day was right— until the foundation had been fully set— before advancing to the next star of cultivation.

And so, he bided his time, quietly practising his basics, knowing that his true breakthrough would come only when the foundation was unshakable. But amidst this flurry of activity—his thriving businesses, his growing power, and his ongoing training— there was one task that had been occupying his thoughts more and more. He had been dreaming of it for a while, waiting for the moment when the time would be right. And now, at last, he felt it had come.

It was time to register his sect. Unofficially, of course.

In this world, forming a sect was no small feat. It was not merely a matter of gathering a few disciples and proclaiming oneself as a sect leader.

According to the laws of the empire, an official sect required a formal registration process, complete with an application detailing the sect’s values, goals, and leadership structure. Even for an unofficial sect, the application needed to be submitted to the City Lord’s office. This was not a formality one could ignore, for failure to register could lead to unwanted attention from the local authorities.

Fortunately for Chen Ren, there was no cap on who could be a leader of a sect. Even someone at the body forging realm, like him, could claim the title.

After gathering all the necessary information about the process of registration, he made his way toward the City Lord’s office. Yalan followed behind him, her steps light and graceful, her presence like a soft whisper on the wind. As always, she moved with the languid grace of a cat— her posture relaxed, yet her eyes ever-watchful.

In fact, with the way she acted so casually beside him, it was hard to remember that she was something more than just a… pet, one who had lived through centuries and seen far more than he could imagine.

The City Lord’s office was located right in the centre of the city. Its marble columns reached toward the sky from four directions— two at the front, and two from behind. The whole building was white and it shone under the midday sun.

The building was a symbol of the Kalian Empire’s might and prosperity, its polished gates were coloured with gold. There were guards stationed at every entrance, their expressions impassive as they observed the comings and goings of the people.

One word that described the ongoing activities of the place would be… Busy— merchants, cultivators, bureaucrats, and normal commoners walking in and out of the grand entrance, some hurrying with urgent matters, others exchanging polite nods and greetings. The scale of the place was staggering, with multiple wings and levels filled with bustling offices.

As they approached the main entrance, Chen Ren paused momentarily to take in the sight of a large stone tablet standing near the courtyard. Its surface was polished to a gleam, and inscriptions ran across it in flowing script. It was a monument to the history of the Kalian Empire, reminding everyone how far they had come.

Chen Ren’s gaze lingered on the stone tablet for a while, his mind wandering.

Kalian Empire was the biggest power in this world, but there was always something about the empire that struck him as... fragile. How could a single emperor, even one of such immense power, keep it together for so long? Something about the weight of thousands of years, the endless cycles of history, made him wonder how it had all survived.

For example, cultivators could live for a long time, so how come not one of them had gotten strong enough to challenge the might of the empire?

From what he knew, the empire was founded by Xian Ju, a nascent soul cultivator. Yet as he thought further about him, he realised there were no records about him that he could remember. He had just vanished one day, leaving the whole empire to his descendants.

“I wonder if he simply got killed since nascent soul cultivators can live for thousands of years. But who will be strong enough to kill such a being?” he muttered, reading the stone table where information about the current emperor Xian Shuren was written.

The current emperor, a domain manifestation stage cultivator, ruled over the empire’s vast territories. Despite being an entire realm weaker than the founder, it was said that his power was unmatched, his control over the empire absolute.

The cities stretched far and wide, and the sects, each with their own powerful cultivators, were united under his rule. It all sounded like the height of stability. Yet, there was a gnawing feeling in Chen Ren’s chest, a question that remained unanswered: How had the empire lasted for so long?

His musing was interrupted by Yalan’s soft voice, cutting through his thoughts like a cool breeze.

”Thousands of years is a long time, isn’t it?” she said, talking to his mind. ”I’ve wondered about that too. I’ve heard whispers of rebellions, but they were all swiftly quashed. The royal family is strong— stronger than any of the rebellious factions could ever hope to be. Even the first emperor was like that— unyielding.”

Chen Ren turned toward her. ”You mean the founder Xian Ju? The one who established the Kalian Empire?”

Yalan nodded. ”Yes, he was already a legend by the time I got my senses. The stories about him… there were mysteries surrounding him, even back then.”

”What kind of mysteries?”

”Mostly about the founding of the empire, there are very few records of how it came to be, but there were rumours. Some say the Kalian Empire emerged from the ashes of a cataclysm that destroyed all the other empires and kingdoms. It’s said that Xian Ju rose from that destruction like a phoenix, uniting the fractured lands and forging the empire while making the weakened sects his subordinates. But... These are just rumours, and I doubt anyone will ever uncover the full truth unless they become royalty themselves.”

Chen Ren’s brow furrowed. The idea of an empire rising from such devastation fascinated him, but it also struck him as tragic— an entire world consumed by a cataclysm, only for a new order to rise from its ruins. It made him wonder if there was something more to the empire’s stability than met the eye.

Yalan, however, was quick to dismiss it with a lazy stretch, her tail flicking behind her. ”Either way, these things aren’t important for you to learn about right now. There’s nothing you can do with that knowledge anyway. You’re more concerned with your own rise, aren’t you? Let’s go inside.”

Chen Ren smiled, amused by her practicality. ”You’re right, I suppose. Let’s take care of what matters first.”

With a final glance at the tablet, Chen Ren turned and stepped through the gilded gates of the City Lord’s office.

He approached the receptionist’s desk, where a young woman sat with an air of practised indifference, her quill moving swiftly over a ledger. Her eyes were narrowed at whatever she was writing on.

”I’m here to register my sect as an unofficial one,” he said steadily.

She looked up at him for a moment, her eyes moving over him as if appraising his status, then nodded. ”Go up to the second floor, Room 215. You’ll find an official there who can assist you.”

”Thank you,” he said, giving her a polite nod before turning to ascend the staircase. Yalan, following behind him like a shadow, swooshed her tail in a languid motion, seemingly uninterested in the busy surroundings.

The second floor was quieter, the grand echo of the lobby muted by thick carpets and polished wood. The hallway stretched out before him, lined with closed doors and the occasional guard or assistant passing by. At the end of the hall, Room 215 had a simple plaque affixed to the door. Chen Ren approached, gently pushing it open.

Inside, it was a normal office— a little less ornate than the grandiose structure of the building might suggest, but still neat and professional.

The room was well-lit, with a large table at the far side, piles of scrolls and paper scattered neatly in organised disarray. Behind one of the nearby desks sat an official, a man in his late thirties, with black robes adorned with the insignia of the City Lord’s office. He was bent over a piece of parchment, scribbling something with a quill, completely absorbed in his work.

As soon as Chen Ren saw him, he recognised him as Liu Wen, one of his first and regular customers who would try his noodles everyday.

Near the centre of the room, two men sat at a table, one leaning forward with an intense focus, while the other was reclining back in his chair, eyes narrowed in concentration. He also recognized these two men— Zhang Wei and Lin Feng.

Although these two weren’t as regular, they would still try out the noodles every few days. And would often ask for a second bowl.

They were playing chess, a game that had clearly captured their full attention. Their moves were slow but careful, and from the looks of it, they had been at it for some time. The atmosphere in the room felt relaxed— perhaps a little too much so, given the status of the place.

Ignoring them, he stepped forward towards Liu Wen and his eyes widened slightly, a flicker of recognition passing through them.

”Ah, Scholar Wen,” Chen Ren said, standing before the stall with a polite smile. He hoped his registration would be quicker with familiar faces. ”It’s good to see you again.”

Liu Wen blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment. ”Aha, it’s you, the noodle stall owner,” he said, adjusting his robes with a small cough, obviously trying to make sense of the situation. ”I didn’t expect to see you here. I don’t know if you are lost, but this is the room for sect registration.”

Chen Ren chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he extended his hand in a friendly gesture. ”Yes, Scholar Wen. I’m a cultivator as well. Noodles are just a business of mine. I came here to register my sect— an unofficial one, of course.”

Liu Wen’s eyes widened further, and for a moment, his expression grew stiff. He looked between Chen Ren and the two chess players, a slightly bewildered expression forming on his face. It was clear that Liu Wen hadn’t realised who Chen Ren was beyond his role as the noodle vendor.

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Liu Wen, soon masked his surprise as he smiled apologetically, realising the misunderstanding. ”I’m sorry, I never addressed you properly before. I should have been more respectful.” With that, he gave a small, formal bow, intending to show Chen Ren the respect he felt was due.

Chen Ren, still somewhat flustered, waved a hand in protest. ”No, no, there’s no need for that. I should be thanking you for trying my noodles. Now, if it’s not too much trouble, could we proceed with the registration for my sect?”

Liu Wen nodded quickly, recovering his usual composure. ”Yes, yes, of course. My apologies for the delay. Just give me a moment. I’m not the one handling the sect registrations usually— more on the finance side of things— but I’m covering for a friend today. I’ll get you the form.”

Chen Ren nodded in understanding. Liu Wen stood up from his seat and walked over to a shelf on the wall, pulling down a scroll and quickly unfurling it. After glancing at it for a moment, he walked back to Chen Ren.

”Here,” Liu Wen said, handing the scroll to him. ”This is the debrief form, basically things that you need to know about. But I believe you won’t be here if you don’t know the right way to register. Anyways, it’s just protocol. I will bring you the application form soon. You’ll need to fill it out with your sect’s name, its values, and any members you have. Then, it will be processed and reviewed. If everything is in order, you’ll get approval for it to be recognized as an unofficial sect.”

He accepted the scroll with a nod. ”Thank you, Scholar Wen. I appreciate your help.” He unfurled the scroll, glancing over pages. Liu Wen was right, he already knew the things that were written.

Liu Wen gave a tired smile. ”I’m just doing my job,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. ”It’s not often I see someone I recognise here. Anyway, wait for a bit as I get the form.”

He left after giving another bow.

Chen Ren sat at the desk, reading through the scroll leisurely to see if he had forgotten something when his ears were drawn to the quiet murmurs of conversation between the two men still playing chess nearby.

The room was filled with a soft ambient noise— rustling papers, quills scratching against parchment, the faint shuffle of footsteps as people moved in and out— but these two men seemed oblivious to the rest of the office. Their conversation, more casual than anything of great importance, floated to Chen Ren’s ears.

”Did you hear? The city tournament is starting in two months,” Zhang Wei said, tapping a pawn across the chessboard with an absent flick of his wrist.

”Really?” Lin Feng replied, lifting an eyebrow as he pondered his next move. ”I didn’t know they would hold it so soon.”

”Yeah, it seems like it’s been scheduled for a while. I wonder who’s gonna win this time. What sects do you think will send their competitors?”

”Hmm, well, Li Xuan’s probably gonna take the win again, right?”

Zhang Wei chuckled, shaking his head. ”I don’t know. He might, but there’s a big question mark hanging over him now that he entered the Soaring Sword Sect. That might change things. My bet’s on the Void Blade Sect this time.”

”Void Blade? They lost a sect war and disappeared, didn’t you know?”

”What do you mean, ’disappeared’?”

“The entire sect building got confiscated. The sect vanished off the map, just like that. No one knows what happened. They say there’s a lot of internal politics behind it. But whatever the case, they’re no longer around to compete.”

”Really? That’s crazy. Void Blade Sect was a powerhouse three years back... How could they just vanish like that?”

”Yeah,” Lin Feng murmured, tapping his fingers against the chessboard. ”It’s all whispers, really. But it’s a shame, though. They were strong. I guess there’s no guarantee of success even if you’re strong.”

Chen Ren listened intently, his mind turning. He knew of the Void Blade Sect. It was one of the sects Chen Ren wanted to get into if Soaring Sword Sect didn’t take him.

Although not as grand as the Soaring Sword Sect, it was one of the well-known established sects and apparently now, it was reduced to nothing.

It was a powerful reminder of the unpredictable tides of power in the cultivation world for him. Even a sect with a rich history and strong disciples could be wiped out in the blink of an eye, either through internal betrayal or external war. It made him wonder about his own ambitions— how easily they could come crumbling down if the right forces were at play.

Yalan’s voice broke through his thoughts. ”Will you be taking part in the tournament?”

Chen Ren glanced up at her, still processing what he’d heard. She was sitting at the edge of the room, her tail curled around her legs, watching the chess players with mild interest. He tilted his head slightly, considering the question. ”If sect cultivators are going to be entering, it’s bound to be fierce. I probably won’t, though. I’m not strong enough, I believe. But…” He paused, the thought lingering in his mind. ”I might change my mind once I see the prizes. Who knows? It might be worth it.”

”True. There’s always a reason to join a competition if the rewards are great enough.”

At that moment, Liu Wen returned, holding the application form in his hand. ”Here,” he said, offering it to Chen Ren. ”Please fill this one out and I’ll submit it for you to be registered as an unofficial sect.”

Chen Ren took the form, unfurling it with a glance.

It was simple enough— sections for the sect’s name, the name of the sect leader, a short description of the sect’s mission and goals, and, of course, the sect crest.

All things he had already considered and decided upon. He filled it out quickly, every line coming naturally to him. He filled in his own name as the leader, wrote a short but clear description of the sect’s values, and sketched a basic idea of its crest.

Once completed, he handed the form back to Liu Wen, who looked it over with a quick scan.

”Divine Coin Sect,” Liu Wen said with a raised eyebrow. ”A sect focused on business and cultivation, huh? Never saw that before.”

Chen Ren stood silent, simply nodding.

Liu Wen continued. ”That’s a unique idea. I haven’t heard of many sects that take that approach.” He paused for a moment, as if contemplating it further, then set the form aside. ”Alright, I’ll submit this to the City Lord’s office for processing. You should receive a confirmation soon enough.”

”Thank you, Scholar Wen,” Chen Ren said, his gratitude sincere. ”I appreciate your help.”

***

Chen Ren stood at the front of his new stall that Tang Jihao had helped build, eyes scanning the area, a sense of pride swelling in his chest.

The stall was modest but well-built, the hard work of helping Tang Yuqiu paying off in every detail. He hadn’t manually set up everything, but the entire design was his work.

It was made up of wood, the exterior painted in a simple but elegant shade of green that matched the natural surroundings. A counter was set up in the front, where customers could easily approach to make their purchases. A few seats were placed around the stall, offering a place for those who wanted to sit and enjoy their noodles or just take a break from the busy street.

At the back of the stall, a small, cosy corner had been set up for Tang Xiulan. She would be working here— with a seat which she didn’t have before so she could rest whenever she could.

But it wasn’t just the exterior that caught his attention. No, his gaze moved upward, where the sect crest had been proudly placed on a sign above the stall.

The crest was simple yet meaningful— an image of a golden dragon on a coin surrounded by swirling energies, symbolising both wealth and cultivation, the merging of the material and spiritual. Chen Ren smiled softly as he took in the sight.

Surely I came a long way from that small noodle stall, heh. But still, so far to go.

The Divine Coin Sect’s noodle stall was busy with customers— some returning for their daily fix of noodles, others drawn in by the enticing smell of freshly cooked food. The steady flow of people had turned the corner of the street into a small gathering, with lines of customers waiting to be served.

Chen Ren leaned against the side of the stall, his arms folded, observing the scene. Tang Xiulan moved as usual, taking orders, preparing dishes, and managing the growing crowd. She was gentle yet precise with her movements, a smile never leaving her face as she greeted each customer. The scent of boiling broth and fried ingredients filled the air.

His eyes flickered to a group of street children who had gathered around the stall. They were quick, their nimble hands darting in and out as they helped Xiulan manage the orders— running small errands, delivering food, and helping with whatever they could.

Chen Ren had known they had been helping out ever since the noodle stall had begun growing in popularity, but seeing them now, as an integral part of the stall’s operation, made him feel a mix of pride and concern.

He approached Tang Xiulan, watching the group for a moment before turning his gaze to the bustling crowd.

”It looks like business has really boomed,” he said, feeling satisfaction.

Xiulan glanced up at him, her smile warm. ”We’ve got a lot of repeat customers now. The noodles are light and easy to eat, and they crave it every day.”

Chen Ren nodded thoughtfully. ”I believe we can start thinking about expansion once I figure out the sauce. It’s the key to making us stand out even more.”

”Expansion?” Xiulan asked.

”Yeah,” Chen Ren continued, his mind already turning to future plans. ”I want to open more stalls, hire employees, and let them handle the operations. That way, I can focus on other things and let the business grow by itself.”

Xiulan was about to respond, but just then, the leader of the street children, Mei Lin called out to her, asking for help.

”Young Master, we can talk about it later,” she said. ”There’s something I need to take care of. But before I go, could you give those noodles to those people over there?” She pointed down the street, toward a small corner where a cluster of figures sat hunched over.

Chen Ren’s gaze followed her finger, and he froze. The group of people were sitting at the edge of the street, dressed in ragged clothes, with dirt smudged across their faces. Their eyes were filled with hopelessness as they watched the crowd move. Some of them had their legs crossed awkwardly, while others seemed to be hunched over as if carrying invisible burdens. They didn’t seem like ordinary customers— no, these were beggars, their posture and appearance easily gave them away.

”You’re feeding them?” Chen Ren asked, his brows furrowing as he glanced back at Xiulan.

Xiulan nodded, her expression soft. ”I felt for them, so I started giving them noodles every day. They’ve started gathering around now.” She paused, and her gaze softened further. ”All of them have physical deficiencies, and they don’t have the money for treatment. I just... I feel bad.”

Chen Ren watched her for a moment, his mind turning over her words. He wasn’t a man to turn his back on the poor, but there was always a limit. ”I see,” he said slowly. ”I don’t mind feeding them, but just make sure we don’t get more of them.”

I’m not running a charity here, he wanted to say, but he knew better. She was empathetic, and he understood that.

Xiulan nodded in agreement, her expression thoughtful. ”Of course, Young Master.”

As she turned to attend to the children, Chen Ren picked up the batch of noodles she had set aside, still mulling over the situation.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but there were always consequences. More beggars would mean more mouths to feed, and soon he would have a crowd of freeloaders on his hands. It wasn’t his job to take care of the city’s problems— it was the authorities’ responsibility to manage the streets.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse to give noodles. The group of beggars had been lingering around for some time, and some of them had even started approaching the stall looking for food. With a sigh, he made his way toward the corner.

The beggars were quiet, huddled together on the dirt-covered ground in an uneasy stillness. Their faces were gaunt, their bodies thin, and their clothes were threadbare. Some of them didn’t even have shoes. Chen Ren approached, and as he did, the beggars slowly turned their heads towards him. Their eyes were hollow, filled with a deep sadness.

One by one, they murmured their gratitude. ”Thank you for your generosity, young master,” they said in unison, their voices faint but clear.

Chen Ren nodded stiffly as he handed out the noodles, each one muttering their thanks as they received their portions.

But then, as he came to the last person in line, something caught his eye.

A figure was sitting at the far end of the group, alone, their head lowered. At first glance, there was nothing unusual about them— except that they didn’t seem to belong with the others. The person had long, dishevelled hair that fell like a veil over the face. Their posture was different— stronger, more upright— but their head was lowered, hiding their features.

He couldn’t see any physical deficiency and couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman.

Chen Ren hesitated for a moment before crouching down, offering the noodles with a soft voice. ”Here... eat. You look like you haven’t eaten much in days.”

The person slowly lifted their head, and as they did, Chen Ren saw their face for the first time.

A woman. Her features were sharp, delicate even, but there was something unsettling about her. Her cheeks were sunken, her skin pale and stretched thin over her bones. But it was her eyes that struck him. Violet eyes, piercing, full of something he couldn’t quite place. They glinted with an intensity that made him uneasy.

”Why are you feeding me?” she asked, her voice low, almost defiant.

Chen Ren didn’t quite know how to respond. ”You look hungry,” he said lamely.

The woman stared at him for a long moment, her gaze unwavering. ”What do you want in return?”

He fumbled for an answer, feeling out of his depth. ”Nothing,” he repeated his intentions. ”I’m just... giving it to you because you look like you haven’t eaten much.”

She glanced down at the noodles, her lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

”I don’t think you’re capable of giving me anything,” he said, as a matter of fact. He set the noodles down before her ”Just eat it,” he said for the third time, then turned and walked away.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about that encounter. But as he returned to the stall, the strange sense of unease faded, only to be replaced by something much more immediate.

A large group of men, all dressed in black, were slowly making their way toward the stall. He froze, his heart sinking as he watched them. They moved with a quiet confidence, as though they owned the street.

One of the men at the front shouted, his voice carrying across the street. ”Listen up, everyone! Blood Snakes are doing an inspection here tonight! Show us proper respect and behave!”

Blood Snakes? Chen Ren’s brow furrowed, and a sense of dread settled in his chest.

He didn’t know who— or what— the Blood Snakes were, but the way the men moved, the way they commanded the street, told him that this was no ordinary group.

***

A/N - Almost 5k words. Thank you for reading.