Dao of Money

There were only a few moments in Xueying Shenmu’s life when he had truly felt humiliated. There was the time he had lost to his brothers after they had begun their cultivation journeys—when he, once the most talented among them, had been left in the dust.

Then there were the bitter losses he had suffered in his early years of business, each one a wound to his pride. But none of those compared to this. Because they were lessons, and this; this was humiliation.

To be dragged from his own estate, flanked by city guards like some common criminal, while his sons, daughters, wives, and even the lowliest servants watched—it was beyond disgraceful. His skin reddened and he felt heat crawling up it at all the whispers, wide-eyed stares, the barely hidden smirks of those who had once groveled at his feet. All of it burned him from inside out.

And it wasn’t just his household. The whole city seemed to have gotten word of his arrest. People lined the streets as the carriage rolled toward the magistrate’s estate, their murmurs and speculative glances cutting deeper than any weapon in the world. They were looking as if it was a spectacle.

Shenmu clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, shooting pain through his hand.

At least they hadn’t bound him in ropes. That was the only silver lining. But even without them, the humiliation was complete.

How did this happen? How?

His competitors had tried to report his methods before, whining to the bureaucrats like dogs yapping at his heels. But he had long since ensured that any such complaints were conveniently lost, ignored, or buried beneath a mountain of red tape.

This time, however, there had been no warning, no attempt to negotiate—just a swift and public humiliation. Someone had planned this. Someone had made sure that no bribe, no favor, no threat would be sufficient to stop it.

Whoever they were, Shenmu swore he would find them. And when he did, their heads would roll. He could see the magistrate’s office, its large iron gates parting to admit them. As soon as the carriage stopped, the guards wasted no time. They escorted him swiftly inside, leading him not to some dim interrogation chamber where he could stall, bribe, or negotiate, but directly to the magistrate’s office itself.

That was when his worry truly set in.

The old man, the magistrate he had greased the palms of so many times, had betrayed him. There was no other explanation to this.

Shenmu entered the office, his steps heavy with the weight of his humiliation. Even his breath felt heavy.

Inside, the old magistrate, Qi Heng, was pacing back and forth, his long goatee swaying slightly. The man had always been composed, his wrinkled face unreadable, but now there was a clear sign of distress—the way his fingers twitched against his robes, the restless shifting of his feet.

As soon as Shenmu stepped in, Qi Heng snapped his gaze toward him. “Lock the door.”

Shenmu hesitated for a fraction of a second but did as instructed before striding to the chair across from the magistrate’s desk. Qi Heng motioned for him to sit.

The moment he lowered himself into the seat, the words burst out of him. “What the fuck is going on here? Is this just some way for you to squeeze more silver out of me? Or is this because I didn’t recommend your daughter to my brothers for a sect placement?” His lip curled. “You know as well as I do that her spirit roots are abysmal. Roots so weak they might as well be a curse, not a blessing. She wouldn’t make it past the first threshold.”

Before he could continue, Qi Heng reached out and gripped his wrist tight. “Enough.” His voice was sharp, his grip firmer than Shenmu expected from an old bureaucrat. “It’s not about that. You’re in trouble. A big, big problem.” He exhaled heavily and released his hold. “And I had no hand in your arrest. More importantly, I won’t be able to help you much. Not right now anyways.”

Shenmu’s confidence wavered at those words. A sliver of ice ran down his spine. The magistrate wasn’t playing games. His eyelids were half closed, his usual self-serving smirk nowhere in sight. This wasn’t a ploy. This wasn’t leverage for a better bribe. This was real.

His throat felt dry. “What do you mean? I have no idea what’s happening here.”

Qi Heng pinched the bridge of his nose before sighing. “Of course, you don’t. It’s a shitshow of the highest order.” He let the words hang for a moment before shaking his head. “Four dozen merchants—four dozen—filed formal complaints against you at the same time.”

Shenmu’s breath hitched. “What?”

Four dozen? That is a shitshow.

“Yes,” Qi Heng confirmed. “If it were just complaints, I could have buried them like always, no matter how many came. At worst, I’d have warned you. But this time, these merchants came prepared. Many of them have men with direct ties to the bureaucracy. That’s something I’ve never seen before. And with so many of them acting at once, various departments in the city requested the City Lord’s aides to investigate. Even they were caught off guard by how fast it all happened.”

Shenmu’s face lost all color.

“I wasn’t even able to stop it. Do you understand what’s happening now?”

A sickening realization settled in Shenmu’s gut. His voice came out weaker than he would have liked. “The City Lord knows everything.”

Qi Heng nodded. “Yes. If it were just merchant complaints, he might have ignored them or delayed action. But it wasn’t just that. There were written records. From your own men.” He leaned in, his gaze sharp as a dagger. “And some of them were cultivators who confessed to the crimes you made them commit.”

Shenmu’s fingers clenched against the armrests of his chair. “They… they confessed? Even cultivators?”

“Yes.” Qi Heng scoffed. “What did you do to them? Did you starve them? Feed them grass? Because for them to betray you like this—knowing they’d face punishment themselves—they must have had a damn good reason.”

At that moment, the pieces fell into place. Shenmu’s eyes widened as a name slipped from his lips, barely more than a whisper.

“Chen Ren.”

But even as he said it, he couldn’t understand how the man had pulled it off. Mortals, sure. They could be threatened, bribed, or beaten into submission. But cultivators? They weren’t so easily broken. What had that bastard done to make them turn?

Before he could process it further, Qi Heng’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“I had to act, Shenmu. If I delayed, the City Lord would have turned his suspicion toward me as well.” He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “And I don’t think the merchants are your only problem.”

Shenmu’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

Qi Heng leaned forward, voice dropping lower. “One of the City Lord’s aides is actively working against you. He’s the one who got the city guards involved alongside my enforcers.” He watched Shenmu carefully. “Did you offend one of them?”

Shenmu frowned, thinking hard. He had his fair share of enemies, but a City Lord’s aide? He would have remembered stepping on someone that important. He shook his head.

“No, I don’t think so. Who is it?”

Qi Heng hesitated before saying the name. “Mingwei.”

The moment Shenmu heard it, a fresh wave of realization hit him, one far worse than before. His stomach twisted as a deep sense of betrayal seeped into his bones. He felt his lunch churn in his stomach.

It was him—the brother of Wenqing.

That was why the woman had been able to establish her restaurant so quickly in the city. The Xueying Clan had been in business for decades, yet she had only been here for five years and still managed to thrive. It had been because of her brother’s silent backing.

And now, she had turned against him.

No—this wasn’t her alone.

Chen Ren.

Shenmu could already see it. The bastard had somehow managed not just the merchants grouping together but also Wenqing’s betrayal.

But how?

That was the part he couldn’t wrap his head around. What kind of leverage did Chen Ren have to move so many pieces at once?

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that if he didn’t find a way out of this mess, he was going to end up a prisoner.

His gaze hardened as he met Qi Heng’s eyes.

“Get me out of here.” His lips thinned. “I don’t care how, but I’m not going to rot in a cell over this.” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, his nose flaring in anger. “And don’t forget—if I go down, I won’t be the only one.”

Qi Heng squinted his eyes at him, his frown deepening. “Stop threatening the only person who can help you right now,” he said flatly. “Your emotions are clouding your reason.”

Shenmu clenched his fists but didn’t back down. “I can apologize all you want once I’m free of this mess. Do you have any idea what this will do to me? My businesses? My family?”

The magistrate sighed, nodding as he reached for the teapot. “I understand.” He poured two cups, sliding one across the table. “Drink first. Then we’ll talk.”

Shenmu took the cup without hesitation, draining it in one go. A quick wave of relief washed over him as he realised something. “You already have a plan, don’t you?”

Qi Heng exhaled, his expression dark. “You won’t like it.”

Shenmu let out a bitter chuckle. “I’ll like anything that gets me out of this situation.”

“First of all, there’s no immediate way out. No matter what, there’s going to be an investigation. The City Lord won’t let this go. It could take months for him to shift his attention elsewhere.” He hesitated before adding, “Maybe a year.”

“I need to stay here for a fucking year?”

“That’s just an estimate.” Qi Heng sighed. “I’ll do my best to get you out sooner, but a lot depends on how severe your offenses appear. And now, even if you do want to get out, there’s only one way.” He paused. “You have to sacrifice your sons.”

Silence filled the room.

Shenmu stared at him, his entire body going stiff. “That’s your plan?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Throwing my own blood to the wolves?”

“There’s no other way,” Qi Heng said and groaned. “You have a lot of sons, and some of them already handle your businesses. They’re young. They can endure this better than you. By the end of the investigation, we’ll push the blame onto them. They’ll be jailed, but you will come out as the clueless patriarch who had no idea what was happening under his nose. At most, there will be fines. But no prison for you.”

“And how long will that take?”

Qi Heng didn’t answer immediately. “That depends. There are people working against you. They’ll try to drag this out for as long as possible.”

Shenmu gulped. His anger coiled inside him like a snake, but he forced it down. Lashing out wouldn’t help him now.

This morning, he had woken up as the untouchable head of the Xueying Clan. Now, he was trapped like a rat.

His past sins had caught up to him.

But this wasn’t fate or retribution.

This was the work of one man.

Chen Ren.

Shenmu exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the chair as reality sank in.

He had known Chen Ren was shrewd when their usual carriage ambush had failed. The man had slipped through their grasp like an eel, always a step ahead. But this?

Banding together so many merchants? Reaching deep enough to sink his nails into the union members?

This was something else entirely.

Shenmu had been betrayed from every angle. His competitors, the bureaucrats, and even people within the merchant guild had all turned against him. The magistrate spoke with confidence about getting him out, but even he didn’t know when that would be. A year? That was just an estimate.

And even if he got out, a year was more than enough time for everything to change.

Just the thought made his stomach churn with something violent. He wanted to slam his head against the floor and drown in his own blood rather than swallow this kind of defeat.

But he wasn’t dead yet.

And as long as he lived—and as long as even a part of his businesses remained—he could make a comeback.

And when he did, Chen Ren was going to pay.

Early in his life, he had learned that revenge was the best motivator a man could have. Even the thought of sacrificing his sons felt like a small price to pay for the opportunity.

His jaw clenched as he turned back to the magistrate. “Fine. Do it. I’ll talk to my sons when they come to see me.” He leveled the man with a hard stare. “But know this—if you don’t get me out of here in a year, we’ll be sharing the same cell.”

***

The news of Xueying Shenmu’s arrest spread like crazy.

Chen Ren didn’t even have to fan the flames—the scandal was too big to contain.

For a trade city like Jingxi, where laws around corruption and business practices were strict, this wasn’t something that could be brushed under the rug. He had made sure of that. Shenmu wouldn’t be seeing freedom for at least a year or two.

But even though this was a huge victory, Chen Ren knew better than to celebrate just yet.

Because it wasn’t over.

Getting a man like Shenmu locked away for life was beyond him. The old man’s claws were too deeply embedded in the city. At best, all Chen Ren had done was buy time—time to grow his mall to a level where even if Shenmu returned, it wouldn’t matter.

Of course, that didn’t mean the attacks would stop.

His sons were still out there.

And in this world, if you kill a son, the father comes to fight. And if you kill the father, the son takes up the blade.

But that was fine. He was prepared.

With the support he had gathered, he doubted any of them could seriously harm his business. In fact, the smaller merchants were already celebrating, eager to devour the market share the Xueying Clan had monopolized.

He was happy to let them.

Let them tear apart the old man’s business—because in the end, he was going to own the biggest slice.

Perfumes and fabrics. Two industries Shenmu had dominated for years. And now? They were his. That alone was enough for the merchant union to consider him for partnership. Of course, his current contracts played a part, as did the fact that he wasn’t just any merchant—he had a sect backing him.

Whatever the reason, he knew one thing—He had done everything he could in this city.

And more importantly, he had driven his roots so deep that no one was pulling them out. People would try, of course. Success always attracted jealousy. Always brought conflict.

But if he could take down the Xueying Clan, then there wasn’t a single merchant in Jingxi that he feared.

And now? Now, it was time to expand.

His mall was already a massive success. But he still had his noodles. He still had his chips.

And he had no doubt that the people of this city were going to love them.

***

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