Dao of Money

Their whole party took a day to get accustomed to Ashen City.

It was far bigger than any place most of them had ever visited. Even Cloud Mist City, which had once seemed massive, paled in comparison. After all, Ashen City was the third largest city in the entire empire, rich with life, trade, and power.

While they stayed at an inn, Chen Ren wasted no time. He sent his people out to gather every bit of information they could about the local bars, taverns, and clans. In a city this large, specifics were hard to come by, but after a night of careful but precise inquiries and subtle negotiations, he had a decent grasp of the major powers and how best to approach them.

As his subordinates moved through the streets, collecting details and rumors, he once again felt grateful that he had worked on recruitment. Having more people under him wasn’t just convenient—it was a necessity. It made everything smoother, faster, and more efficient. Once he secured a proper contract for his supply chain, he planned to hand the entire distribution process over to Zi Han. The man was the most enthusiastic about this venture, and he would thrive handling the logistics.

With the information he needed in hand, Chen Ren didn’t waste another moment.

He gave out commands to his people, setting their roles in motion, and then personally made his way toward the largest bar in Ashen City— The Alehouse, one of the main establishments of the Zhu Family.

The building was a large three-story wooden structure, its wide entrance marked with the Zhu Family’s distinct crest. Even from outside, Chen Ren could hear the dull murmur of voices, the occasional burst of laughter, and the clatter of mugs.

Despite it being morning, a quarter of the bar was still filled with patrons. Some sat nursing their drinks, either still awake from the previous night or starting early for the day. A few were sprawled across the large tables, clearly having passed out sometime before dawn.

Anji, who had accompanied him, shuddered slightly at the atmosphere but didn’t complain.

Together, they walked toward the main counter, where two people—a man and a woman—sat at a polished wooden desk. Both bore the Zhu Family’s insignia on their chests, marking them as members of the clan.As Chen Ren took a seat, the woman leaned forward with a professional yet somewhat disinterested smile.

”What type of drink would you like? We also serve light snacks to go with them.”

The woman gestured to the board behind her, where the prices of the alcohol were listed. The cheapest drink started at 50 copper wen per glass, while the higher-end ones went for 100 copper wen.

He resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow.

Considering how people had complained about his 5 copper wen noodles being expensive, these prices were on an entirely different level. But he understood why—alcohol was still a luxury in the continent. Most common folk didn’t drink it daily, and when they did, they usually settled for cheap liquor rather than the high-quality brews offered in establishments like this.

Ignoring the prices, he turned back to the woman and smiled.

”I’m sorry, but I’m not here to drink or try snacks. Instead, I’d like to meet the manager of this place—I have a new drink for him to try.”

At his words, the woman blinked in confusion, clearly not expecting that answer. Before she could respond, the man sitting beside her, who had overheard the conversation, glanced over and approached them.

He crossed his arms. ”I’m sorry, but Manager Zhu Yuan doesn’t meet just anyone. He’s a busy man.”

Chen Ren’s smile didn’t waver. ”I know. He only meets reputable people.”

The man nodded. ”Then you should understand that if you don’t—”

”And I would like to tell you that I’m one such person,” Chen Ren interrupted smoothly, pulling something out of his robes.

The two employees tensed slightly, but their expressions shifted as he placed his sect crest on the counter, sliding it toward them.

A small but unmistakable emblem with the dragon gleamed under the lamp, its design distinct—the crest of the Divine Coin Sect.

The man and woman exchanged glances, now looking at him with a mix of curiosity and caution.

The woman hesitated before asking, ”You’re from a sect?”

Chen Ren nodded. ”Not just any sect. The Divine Coin Sect. And not only that—I was born into the Chen Clan that controls Red Peak City. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”

Their eyes widened slightly. Even if they hadn’t personally dealt with the Chen Clan, it was a well-known name, being one of the more famous clans in the empire.

He leaned forward slightly. ”My name is Chen Ren, and I can tell you this—the opportunity my sect wants to discuss with the Zhu Clan is something you won’t regret.”

A pause followed, just as he had expected. They weren’t foolish enough to immediately believe him, but they also couldn’t outright dismiss someone from a sect and an influential clan.

After a moment, the man nodded toward the woman, and she disappeared into the back. Likely to fetch the manager.

As they waited, Chen Ren turned to Anji, who seemed more relaxed now.

He smirked. ”See? This is something you should learn if you’re going to take part in business.”

She raised an eyebrow. ”What? How to interrupt people?”

”No,” he chuckled. ”Background is everything. If I were just a normal merchant, they’d have thrown me out. But being from a reputable clan and sect makes them reconsider.”

Anji shrugged. ”I still think they would’ve let you in if you just told them you’re a Cultivator.”

”Maybe,” Chen Ren admitted with a shrug. ”But most members of our sect aren’t Cultivators. Even you aren’t.”

At that, he noticed a slight twitch in Anji’s expression, something brief but telling.

He chose to ignore it and continued, ”That’s why you need to learn how to throw your background around. And even if you don’t have a background—make one.”

Anji shot him an unimpressed look, but before she could respond, he smirked. ”You look good enough for them to believe you come from a reputable clan.”

A faint flush dusted her cheeks.

Before anything else could be said, the door to the back swung open. The female worker from before stepped out, followed by a bigger man—broad-shouldered and round-faced, with a three-day-old beard that made him look slightly unkempt. His clothes were well-tailored, but there was no hiding the slight bloat in his features or the lingering scent of alcohol that clung to him.

Chen Ren instantly pegged him as someone who enjoyed his own stock a little too much.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Yet, despite that, the man wasn’t old—he was around Chen Ren’s age, maybe a year or two older.

The man approached the counter, placing a large palm on the wooden surface as his gaze settled neutrally on Chen Ren. ”I heard you’re from a sect and wish to discuss a business opportunity with the Zhu Clan.”

Chen Ren smiled, unfazed. ”For Zhu Alehouse, mostly.”

A single brow lifted, but there was a subtle shift in the man’s posture, an indicator that he was taking this more seriously now.

”So, what’s the deal?”

Chen Ren chuckled. ”Why don’t you try it for yourself?”

At that, he glanced at Anji, who swiftly pulled out a small container she had been carrying. The moment Chen Ren uncorked it, a rich, potent aroma of distilled spirits filled the air.

The fat manager and the two workers instinctively leaned forward, eyes drawn to the swirling liquid inside.

It was clear, almost too clear, yet had a subtle shimmer. Unlike the thick, golden-brown ales they were used to, this drink looked deceptively light—but the scent told an entirely different story.

Zhu Yuan narrowed his eyes. ”You’re trying to sell alcohol to the best bar in town?”

Chen Ren grinned. ”No. I’m selling the best alcohol.”

A slight silence followed before the manager let out a sigh and grabbed a glass. He poured himself a small amount, lifting it to eye level before finally taking a sip.

The moment it touched his tongue, his face changed instantly.

Chen Ren knew what the man was experiencing. A sharp burn, across his mouth and down his throat—like fire igniting every nerve. His face contorted in surprise, and he coughed silently before blinking at Chen Ren in shock.

”My tongue feels like it’s burning. What the hell is this?”

Chen Ren leaned against the counter, smirking. ”The strongest drink you’ll ever try. Gives a nice little kick, doesn’t it?”

The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took another sip, slower this time—trying to savor the burn. It wasn’t just fire; underneath the intensity, there was a smoothness, a depth that cheap grain alcohol didn’t have.

Visibly, he let the drink roll over his tongue, exhaling slightly as he finally admitted, ”It does… yeah, it really does.”

Then he paused, looking at Chen Ren more seriously now.

”I haven’t tried anything like this before. Where did you get it?”

Chen Ren smiled easily. ”My sect has an elder who’s interested in spirit-making. He ended up creating this, and now we’re trying to ensure his work reaches the rest of the Kalian Empire.”

A blatant lie.

But talking about elders would make the manager think their sect was bigger and more influential than he had originally assumed—worth forming connections with.

Just as Chen Ren had expected, the fat man stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. ”What was the name of your sect again?”

”Divine Coin Sect,” Chen Ren answered smoothly.

The man frowned. ”Never heard of it.”

Chen Ren chuckled. ”We like to stay low-key. But our new sect leader is trying to change that—he wants our name to spread across the continent. And what better way than through our creations?”

Zhu Yuan hummed, his lips twitching. He looked interested, at the very least.

Chen Ren took the chance to press further. ”So, what do you think? Would you be interested in a supply contract?”

The manager leaned back slightly, considering. ”I can consider it.”

Then came the real test.

”How much will you be selling it for?”

Chen Ren glanced at the container Anji had placed on the counter, then turned back to the man. ”That depends on how much you can shell out.”

He wasn’t going to name a price first. He wanted to see what kind of offer the manager would make.

The fat man rubbed his chin, then finally said, ”Thirty silver wen per container.”

Chen Ren’s smile didn’t waver, but internally, he scoffed. As expected, the man was trying to shortchange him.

With everything required to make moonshine—high-quality grains, fermentation agents, distillation materials—his total cost of production already sat at twenty-five silver wen per container.

And that wasn’t even counting the labor costs.

Zhu Yuan knew the value of a product like this. Clearly, he’d been in this business for a long time. A single container held enough alcohol for 20 to 30 glasses, and considering the prices listed earlier, the tavern could easily sell each glass for 2 to 5 silver wen.

If they marketed it as a luxury drink or something suited for cultivators, the price could soar even higher.

Yet, despite that, the manager was offering a measly 30 silver wen?

Chen Ren’s neutral expression didn’t change. But in his mind, he was already deciding on his counteroffer.

Chen Ren had come here expecting this kind of back-and-forth, so he didn’t seem the least bit fazed.

”I’m sorry,” he said. ”That’s not a price I’m willing to sell it for.”

Zhu Yuan frowned but quickly responded. ”Fine. 35 silver wen. I won’t go beyond that.”

His voice carried absolute certainty, like he thought he was making a generous offer. ”You know our bar is the best in the city. You won’t get better rates anywhere else.”

Chen Ren’s lips curled into a relaxed smile. ”I’ll see about that.”

The manager narrowed his eyes. ”You’re planning to sell it to other establishments?” His voice carried a more serious weight now. ”The Zhu Clan might not like that.”

Chen Ren met his gaze straight and raised his eyebrow. ”Are you trying to threaten me?”

Zhu Yuan shook his head quickly. ”No, but I think you should understand that we’re the biggest clan in Ashen City. If you get into business with another pub, we might take offense.” He leaned forward slightly. ”I believe you already know that—otherwise, you wouldn’t have come here first.”

Chen Ren’s smile widened. ”I don’t think so.”

The manager blinked. ”What do you mean?”

Chen Ren chuckled. ”Right now, my men are in every other pub in town—showing off this creation.”

A flicker of displeasure crossed the fat man’s face.

”The Zhu Clan won’t like that,” he warned.

Chen Ren’s expression darkened slightly, and his voice carried a dangerous undertone. ”I don’t know if you understand, but you’re standing in front of a cultivator.”

The manager visibly tensed, his confidence cracking for the first time.

Chen Ren let the silence hang for a moment before adding, ”Moreover, the Zhu Clan might be the biggest in the city, but do you really want to offend a sect like ours?”

Silence.

Zhu Yuan clearly didn’t know how big the Divine Coin Sect actually was, and that uncertainty worked in Chen Ren’s favor. Even if the manager had never heard of it, going against a sect was never a wise move.

Seeing that he had made his point, Chen Ren turned away.

”I’ll be staying at the Heavenly Sleep Inn if you change your mind,” he said casually. Then, without sparing the manager another glance, he walked out of the tavern with Anji following close behind.

***

Chen Ren sat cross-legged on the bed. He looked around at the small room in Heavenly Sleep Inn.

Across from him, Zi Han and Hong Yi sat with straight backs, their faces composed but expectant. Anji, still getting used to these kinds of discussions, leaned slightly against the bedpost, listening carefully. On the far side of the bed, Whiskey was curled up, peacefully napping. As for Yalan, she was out, likely gathering information or exploring the city.

Chen Ren finally broke the silence.

”Yes? So what happened?.”

Zi Han and Hong Yi exchanged glances before Zi Han took the lead.

”It was as you predicted, Sect Leader,” he said. ”The bars liked the product. Both places, Shuang Guan and Phoenix Tear Tavern agreed to meet us after we mentioned our sect and let them try the moonshine. They enjoyed it, but...” He hesitated. ”They were only willing to pay 20 silver wen per container.”

Hong Yi picked up from there. ”After some negotiation, we got them to raise the price to 35 and 40, but they refused to go higher. We tried a few other places, but it was the same story.”

Chen Ren nodded thoughtfully. 40 silver wen wasn’t bad, and he could turn a solid profit at that rate. But he also knew moonshine was worth far more. With its high concentration, Cultivators in the city would go crazy for it, and those kinds of customers wouldn’t blink before dropping 5 to 6 silver wen for a single glass.

That meant there was still a lot of room to push the price up.

He looked at the people gathered around him and smirked. ”Sounds like things are going according to plan.”

Anji raised an eyebrow. ”Does it? I thought you wanted a higher price?”

Chen Ren chuckled. ”I do. But right now, they only know our product is good—they haven’t seen its full potential.”

Zi Han’s eyes sharpened. ”You mean…?”

Chen Ren leaned forward slightly. ”We need to raise its demand in the city. Once the demand is high enough, these establishments won’t have a choice. They’ll be pushing each other out of the way just to get a supply deal with us, no matter what price we set.”

The room fell silent for a moment before Hong Yi asked, ”And how do we do that, Sect Leader?”

Chen Ren’s smirk widened. ”I already have a plan for that.”

***

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