Dao of Money

After being in this world for a while, Chen Ren had realized that despite there being a royal family at the center of the Empire, the distribution of power in every big city and its nearby region was different, depending on the clans and sects that dominated them. For example, even though Cloud Mist City had a city lord, there was no denying that the Soaring Sword Sect held a much stronger claim to power, being the Guardian sect of the region.

Like Cloud Mist City, many other cities either had dominant clans or nearby sects sitting at the true center of power. Even when a city lord bore a noble title and officially governed, they could rarely act without considering these clans—organizations that had spent centuries cultivating generations of powerful individuals. Their deep-rooted history made them a force that couldn’t be ignored.

Now that he thought about it, Red Peak City—Chen Ren’s home—was much the same. The Chen Clan controlled most aspects of governance, despite the presence of an appointed city lord. It wasn’t that city lords held no power; in some cities, their influence far outweighed that of sects or clans. But in most, it was either a delicate balance—a 50-50 symbiotic relationship—or the clans remained the real heavyweights in the region. Unfortunately, Ashen City fell into the latter category, with a few dominant clans holding the reins of power.

It wasn’t necessarily bad for Chen Ren—except for one issue. These clans were used to having their way. With their wealth and their cultivators, they had established a near-monopoly on businesses in the city and surrounding settlements. Even during his journey toward Ashen City, he had noticed numerous small towns and trade hubs where businesses were clearly owned by these clans—particularly the Zhu Clan.

The Zhu Clan was, without a doubt, the most powerful faction in Ashen City. More importantly, they owned a staggering number of pubs and taverns. If he could strike a business deal with them, he would have a constant market for his alcohol. But before he could dream of making a fortune and advancing his cultivation, he had to figure out a way to get their attention.

“What are you thinking, Sect Leader Chen?”

Chen Ren blinked, pulled from his thoughts by Anji’s voice. He turned to her, briefly considering his words before speaking. “Just thinking about this place—and the powers that occupy it.”

As he spoke, he swept his gaze outside the carriage window, taking in the sight of Ashen City. They had entered the city a while back, and through the carriage’s wooden frame, he could see just how bustling the streets were. Merchant stalls lined the roads, people weaved between buildings, and the energy of trade and power warmed the air. If he wanted to carve a place for himself here, he needed to act carefully.

Yet, beneath the lively facade, something darker clung to the air.

A thin layer of black soot floated through the city, barely perceptible unless one truly focused. It did not choke the lungs nor cloud the vision, but it was there—settling on rooftops, streaking the edges of signboards, dulling the once-bright hues of banners. Even the occasional cultivator who sped past through the streets at full speed left behind a faint swirl of black.Chen Ren sat within the carriage, one hand idly brushing against the wooden armrest. His gaze flickered toward the sky, where the sun’s light strained to cut through the lingering haze. It was the mark of Ashen City’s namesake—the legacy of a volcano that had erupted centuries ago. Though dormant, its breath still reached out, carried on the wind.

A voice pulled him from his thoughts.

”Are you worried that the Zhu Clan won’t buy our alcohol?” Zi Han leaned forward and asked.

Chen Ren chuckled, shaking his head. ”They’ll be interested. Their establishments cater to more than just mortals. Look around—this city teems with cultivators, and not the kind who shut themselves away in caves seeking enlightenment.” His fingers tapped against his knee as he observed the crowd outside. ”Most of them chase after beasts near the volcano, delve into caves for treasures, then return to spend their earnings on indulgence. They want fine food, warm company, and strong liquor. Ours will be exactly what they’re looking for.”

He paused, his gaze sharpening. ”The problem isn’t demand. It’s price. A clan like the Zhu won’t pay fair coin if they can twist our arms into selling cheap. If we let them dictate the terms, we’ll be left with crumbs while they feast.”

Zi Han frowned slightly, crossing his arms. ”So what’s your plan, Sect Master Chen? They have power, influence, and from what you are saying, they don’t play fair.”

Anji, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. ”Do we even have leverage? If they decide to force us, what then?”

Chen Ren smirked. ”Clans are never monolithic. Rivalries exist—both within and outside. We just need to play them against each other.”

His fingers traced a slow circle on the wooden surface beside him, mind already running through possibilities. ”The first step is a demonstration. Not just to them, but to the city itself. We need to make them feel like they need our product, like they’ll lose something if they don’t act fast. The moment we turn the tables, it’ll be them chasing us.”

Zi Han’s expression eased into a comprehending smile. Anji gave a slow nod, understanding dawning in her eyes. Chen Ren turned to look outside; outside the carriage window, Ashen City sprawled before them.

***

While Chen Ren and the others were away, Meadow Village was anything but quiet. Activity buzzed through its streets and courtyards, the air thick with the sounds of construction, training, and murmured conversations. And as Zi Wen made his way through the sect’s compound, he bore witness to it all.

He still wasn’t sure if he should even call it a sect yet. Not in the way true sects were—where towering halls loomed over vast training fields, where disciples practiced in neat ranks under the watchful eyes of elders, and where the weight of centuries settled into every stone and pillar. No, this wasn’t that.

But it would be.

Somewhere deep in his chest, an unshakable certainty had taken root. He couldn’t explain it, but as he walked past the bustling activity, watching the pieces come together, he knew that the Divine Coin Sect was going to become something great.

Through a window, he caught sight of the mortal members seated inside a modest hall, practicing their numbers on wooden slates, their faces scrunched in concentration. Numbers. Not sword techniques or spell incantations, but calculations.

To anyone else, it might seem absurd, but Zi Wen had begun to understand the strange logic of his sect leader. A strong foundation wasn’t just about physical power—it was about knowledge, control, and mastery over more than just one’s fists.

Further ahead, Miss Tang Xiulan was hard at work, speaking with the builders as they fitted massive tubes into place and dug trenches along the sect grounds. Zi Wen frowned, watching as sweat glistened on their brows. Plumbing, they had called it.

Another one of Sect Leader Chen’s strange ideas.

Zi Wen didn’t understand it fully, but he had long since learned that when a sect leader spoke, it was better to listen. And although he still wasn’t fully sure of Chen Ren, he knew he was capable and at least had good ideas in that big brain of his.

And the sect leader’s words and actions with the locust weren’t the only reason to believe in him.

There was also Yalan, a white furred cat that rarely left Sect Leader’s Chen’s side, acting like an ordinary pet.

But Zi Wen knew the truth.

That was not a mere pet. Yalan was a master of the Meridian Expansion realm, a being whose strength dwarfed most cultivators who walked the land. And yet, she had willingly chosen to remain by Sect Leader Chen’s side.

The day he had found out still sent a chill through him. He had always felt something unusual about that cat—an instinct, a whisper at the back of his mind. A spirit beast of that caliber lending its strength to the sect? The weight of that revelation had only cemented his belief.

The Divine Coin Sect would not remain unknown for long.

And as if that thought had summoned fate itself, he recalled Chen Ren’s words before leaving.

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”Zi Wen, if the sect is to grow, you will have a role to play.”

Not just as a disciple, not just as another follower. But as a cultivator who would help shape its future.

And so, as he walked the paths of the sect, watching the pieces fall into place, Zi Wen exhaled slowly.

For now, his task was clear. He had to train. He had to connect with his Dao. That was his sole goal.

Connecting to his Dao was proving more difficult than he had expected. It wasn’t as though he lacked hard work—he had cultivated diligently, followed Sect Leader Chen’s advice, and even meditated beneath the old sycamore tree that overlooked the village. But clarity continued to elude him, like mist slipping through his fingers.

Which was why he now found himself searching for Little Yuze.

If he couldn’t grasp his Dao on his own, then perhaps he could find inspiration elsewhere. The spirit wolf despite seeming like a harmless pet was strong and someone he had tamed. If he truly had Dao of Taming, then being near Little Yuze was definitely going to help.

It didn’t take long to find him.

The distant sounds of movement and soft laughter drew Zi Wen’s gaze toward the space that had become the training grounds. There, beneath the late afternoon sun, Luo Heng danced back and forth, his body shifting through clumsy yet determined steps. Opposite him, Little Yuze crouched low, tail wagging as he darted forward with swift but controlled strikes.

Zi Wen’s eyes narrowed slightly. A movement technique?

Luo Heng’s breath came in ragged bursts as he leapt back from a claw swipe, his foot digging into the dirt. His brows furrowed in focus, and just as he landed, he shouted—

”[Drifting Cloud Steps!]”

His form blurred ever so slightly, but before he could fully evade, his foot caught on uneven ground, and he stumbled.

Little Yuze paused, his teal eyes blinking in amusement, clearly holding back.

Luo Heng groaned, brushing dust from his clothes. “Still not right…”

Before he could try again, he heard the approaching footsteps and turned to see Zi Wen striding toward them.

The boy straightened, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Senior Brother Wen! What are you doing here?”

Zi Wen smiled at the title. It was still unfamiliar, but… pleasant.

“I’m here to take Little Yuze for a walk.”

Luo Heng nodded, rubbing the back of his head. “That’s fine. We’ve been practicing for an hour anyway. But… I’m still not getting used to these techniques.” He looked down, his eyes proof of frustration.

Zi Wen folded his arms. “Take your time with it. They’re only mortal-grade techniques—if you rush, you’ll trip over yourself more than you’ll progress. Enjoy the process. You’re still a new cultivator.”

Luo Heng’s eyes flickered with understanding before he gave a determined nod. “Yes, I will, Senior Brother. I’ll think on them while I tend to my field.”

Zi Wen raised an eyebrow. “You’re still keeping up with your farm?”

Luo Heng straightened his back with a hint of pride. “Of course. Sect Leader Chen said I could, and now that the locusts are gone, I can finally care for my crops properly. Besides…” His voice softened slightly. “I inherited it from my father. He passed away last year. I don’t want to let it go.”

Zi Wen studied the boy for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Then keep at it.”

Luo Heng grinned before bidding his farewell, jogging off toward the fields, his steps a little steadier than before.

Zi Wen turned to Little Yuze, who watched him expectantly, tail flicking.

“Come,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s take a walk.”

Little Yuze let out a small huff before lowering himself to the ground. Zi Wen instinctively moved, and before he could think twice, he found himself atop the wolf’s broad back.

The forest stretched before them, dappled sunlight filtering through the thick canopy. The familiar path they took wound through towering trees, their roots twisting across the ground like the veins of the earth itself. The rustling of leaves accompanied their journey, but no wild beast dared approach them.

Zi Wen sat upright, letting the wind brush against his face. The soft fur beneath his hands was warm, and the steady rhythm of Little Yuze’s movements lulled him into a quiet calm.

For the first time in days, his thoughts settled. His mind calmed and his always raising heartbeat was at pace. The frustration of failing to connect with his Dao faded into the background, carried away by the wind. A long, slow sigh left his lips, and he closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the moment.

Before he knew it, they had arrived.

The hilltop was in front of them. The air was fresher here, the scent of damp earth and wildflowers mixing together in a way that felt… grounding.

Little Yuze came to a stop and gently lowered him to the ground before stepping forward and pressing his head against Zi Wen’s chest.

A small laugh escaped him, and he ran his fingers through the wolf’s fur, rubbing and scratching at all the familiar spots. The way Little Yuze leaned into his touch made his heart feel a little lighter.

But then, his hands stilled.

The wolf looked up at him, teal eyes twinkling with curiosity. What’s wrong? they seemed to ask.

Zi Wen exhaled softly and shook his head. “Nothing much,” he murmured. “I was just wondering… am I really someone who can be a Beastmaster?”

Little Yuze blinked at him.

“The Dao of Taming exists, but I never thought it would be my path,” Zi Wen continued. His voice was calm, but a hint of hesitation lingered. “Sect Leader Chen fully believes it is, but… I don’t know. I feel like I’m stuck.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, without warning, a wet tongue dragged across his face.

Zi Wen recoiled. “Ugh—!”

Little Yuze let out a series of short, excited woofs, his tail wagging as if to say, Stop overthinking. Just trust yourself.

Zi Wen wiped at his face, but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “…Yeah. You’re right. I should stop overthinking. Just because I haven’t connected to my Dao yet doesn’t mean I should be anxious about it.”

Still, a thought lingered in his mind.

“I just…” His fingers curled slightly. “I don’t think I can fully give up on the Martial Dao.”

Little Yuze tilted his head.

“I used to love training,” Zi Wen admitted, his voice softer now, as if he were speaking more to himself than to his companion. “I thought I’d become an immortal cultivator one day—slaying demons, fighting powerful enemies, becoming someone worthy of legends—”

He paused.

A thought entered his mind, quiet but undeniable.

His eyes drifted to Little Yuze.

Did I truly enjoy training as much as I enjoy this?

The memory of those long days resurfaced—the endless hours of striking dummies, the exhaustion of drilling techniques over and over again, the aching limbs and bruised knuckles. He remembered the initial rush of excitement whenever he learned something new, the thrill of growing stronger… but that feeling always faded, replaced by repetition.

It had been rewarding, yes. But had it been fun?

Right now, as he sat beside Little Yuze, scratching behind his ears, the warmth of the afternoon sun on his skin… he couldn’t deny it.

This moment, this feeling—this was happiness.

Even playing with that mischievous squirrel, Whis Ke, had been fun.

But had he ever felt this way about his martial training?

Zi Wen lowered his gaze, lost in thought.

Perhaps… he had been walking the wrong path all along.

Zi Wen stared at the sky, watching as the clouds drifted by, his fingers idly running through the wolf’s fur.

He exhaled.

The realization settled over him like a quiet tide.

His past wasn’t a mistake—it had been good in its own way. But had he been truly happy?

No.

It was nostalgia that had clouded his thoughts.

Back then, he had walked the path of the Martial Dao because it had been his childhood dream. He had believed himself to be chosen—a favored son of the heavens, destined for greatness. But that had been nothing more than a story he told himself, a fantasy spun from the arrogance of youth.

Reality had been different.

But this…

Zi Wen glanced at Little Yuze, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his presence.

This felt different.

The connection he had with the wolf wasn’t something written in fate or dictated by the heavens. It was something real, something forged through time, care, and trust.

Maybe he hadn’t been chosen by the heavens.

But he had been chosen to meet Little Yuze, to take care of him, to befriend him.

And that—

That was enough.

Just then, a strange sensation pulsed through him, a warmth curling in his chest, unfamiliar yet natural. His breath hitched, his fingers twitching against Little Yuze’s fur.

His eyes widened.

He turned sharply to the wolf. “Did you feel that?”

Little Yuze blinked at him before tilting his head, a picture of pure confusion.

Zi Wen’s pulse quickened.

Was this… what i thought it was?

Without another word, he shifted into a meditative position, his breathing steadying.

If this was what he thought it was—if this was the moment where he finally shed his Martial Dao and stepped onto a new path—then he couldn’t let it slip away.

He closed his eyes and let the world around him fade. And then, as he focused inward, he found himself in his Star Space—that vast, endless expanse within him. A place where the echoes of his Dao awaited. And for the first time, he reached forward, not toward the path he had once believed in—

But toward the path that had already been waiting for him.

***

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