Dao of Money

As Chen Ren walked through the forest with the others, his heart thrummed like a drum, loud enough that he half-wondered if the others could hear it. But outwardly, his face stayed calm. He couldn’t let any trace of worry slip—especially not with Hong Yi twitching at every rustle of leaves and Anji glancing over his shoulder like a startled hare.

Only Yalan seemed truly at ease, leaping from branch to branch far ahead of them, her presence barely more than a shadow slipping through the trees. But that didn’t surprise him. There were few things in this world that could truly trouble her.

As they moved deeper into the forest, Chen Ren went over the plan again in his head. He hadn’t crafted it for the treasure—not entirely. It was the knowledge of one key detail that had shaped it all, there was only one entrance into the ruins. No back doors. No hidden paths. That, at least according to Anji, was their advantage.

If they were lucky, they could trap the cultivators before they even stepped inside. With Anji’s descriptions of the internal traps, it might even be possible to turn the ruins into a death trap. Still, if he could, Chen Ren would prefer to end things before anyone even crossed the threshold. That, of course, depended on their enemy’s strength. He couldn’t afford to let a single one escape.

He found himself thinking less about treasure and more about wiping them out completely. It wasn’t greed or anger—it felt more like a test. One he had to pass if he ever wanted to reach the manuals hidden within. The realization unsettled him.

Then, Yalan’s voice sliced through his thoughts.

“I see them.”

She dropped down beside them without a sound. He hadn’t even seen her coming back from scouting. Her voice, like a whisper carried by the wind, echoed in their minds. Hong Yi and Anji tensed, clearly startled by the mental transmission. Chen Ren, however, looked at Yalan for more information.

“Where are they exactly?” he asked calmly, voicing it in a whisper.

“Right at the entrance to what looks like the sect’s vault,” Yalan replied, speaking out loud so the other two would get the information too. “They’re resting. Two of them are scouting the area before they move in. I didn’t see a map, but they’re trying to read the runes on the stone face. Most of them are damaged—likely destroyed by their own hands.”She paused. “They’re about thirty minutes ahead of us.”

Hong Yi spoke next. “How many?”

“Five,” Yalan answered. “Three of them are in the qi refinement realm. Not a threat, unless they’re hiding something. One has just stepped into the foundation establishment realm—his foundation not stable yet. But the last one…” She hesitated. “I couldn’t see him clearly. Might be an artifact hiding his presence, but he’s the one giving orders. That means he’s either mid-star foundation establishment realm or near the peak.”

That didn’t bode well at all.

Chen Ren’s jaw tightened. A mid-star foundation establishment realm cultivator was already pushing their limits—but a peak realm one? That would be above them even if they fought as a group, barring Yalan. But he gave a mindless nod.

They were going to be facing cultivators far stronger than most of his team. Maybe he and Hong Yi could handle the three at the qi refinement realm, but the two foundation establishment ones would fall to Yalan—and that was asking a lot, even from someone like her.

She was strong, no doubt. But at that level, cultivators came armed with more than just raw power—hidden artifacts, unpredictable pills, and techniques sharpened by real bloodshed.

The plan to ambush them outside the vault dissolved in his mind, vanishing like smoke in the wind. Before he could speak, Anji stepped forward.

“How do they look?” she asked, her eyes narrowing at where Yalan said the men were.

Chen Ren frowned, not understanding the question at first. Then he realized—she must have seen members of the Blazing Ember Sect before, maybe even fought them. Descriptions could help her piece together their strengths.

Yalan answered smoothly. “Two of the qi refinement cultivators look like twins. Male and female. Both short. Brown hair. The girl carries a short sword and a bow, I think—her posture’s offhanded, like she’s used to shooting from cover. The boy moves with daggers—quick feet, twitchy hands. Scouts, from the looks of it.”

She paused. “The third one’s a man. Black hair, scar across his face. Looks more seasoned than the twins. Carries himself like he’s survived a few close calls. The leader has red hair. Bushy eyebrows. Wears too many rings, all artifacts. Sharp face, alert eyes. He talks, they listen. And the last one’s bald. No facial hair. No eyebrows either. Stood like a statue, but his eyes never stopped moving.”

Anji’s face drained of color. Then it flushed with something far darker—rage.

“The leader… his name is Wang Fu.”

Chen Ren’s eyes widened. “The spy?”

Anji nodded stiffly. “Yes. It’s him.”

Yalan narrowed her gaze and flicked her tail. “Tell me what you know.”

Anji’s words came fast and bitter. “He entered the foundation establishment realm during the sect war. But with the loot from that conflict, I wouldn’t be surprised if he climbed higher. He hoards poison and healing pills in his spatial rings—throws them mid-battle to confuse or trap enemies. He uses a spear. An artifact.”

She inhaled sharply. “He’s not easy to face. Used to be one of the top duelists in the sect. Arrogant bastard, but skilled.”

Chen Ren’s jaw clenched. This was worse than he thought.

“What about the others?” he asked.

“I only recognize the twins,” Anji replied. “The girl prefers range, but isn’t bad at close combat. The boy uses blades and stealth techniques mixed with the signature flames of his sect. They’re scouts. If we split them from the group, they’re manageable.”

Yalan nodded. “They were moving through the trees earlier, probably scouting the perimeter.”

Chen Ren glanced around. Both Hong Yi and Anji were watching him now, waiting—ready for his call. He paused, thinking it through again. There was no perfect move here. Just the best gamble.

“We stick to the same plan,” he said, attracting attention back to him. “Wang Fu might recognize you, Anji. So we’ll avoid a direct clash outside. We’ll enter the vault once they’re ten minutes in. That’s our window.”

“Alright, sounds good,” Hong Yi said.

And the rest nodded, and without another word, Yalan disappeared into the treeline, her figure vanishing like mist between leaves.

As they waited, Chen Ren unrolled the map Anji had sketched from memory. The layout of the ruins was a maze—twisting paths, dead ends, and trap-laden corridors leading toward the main vault chamber. Every route was dangerous, but one chamber in particular caught his attention. It wasn’t the central vault, not exactly, but it branched from several main paths. If he was right, it would be the point where their enemies would eventually diverge. Unless they had a map of their own—which was doubtful—they would have no choice but to split up.

And when they did, he’d strike.

Before his thoughts could spiral further, Yalan returned, silent as ever. “They’ve entered the ruins,” she reported. “If we run now, we’ll reach the entrance within ten minutes if we are fast.”

Chen Ren gave a nod. “Let’s move.”

The group broke into a sprint, weaving through trees and ducking under branches. The forest blurred around them, the sharp scent of bark and moss rising with each breath. Along the way, they passed several beasts—felled and missing parts, their bodies still fresh. Signs of the cultivators’ passage. It meant fewer threats for them to face… but he didn’t let his guard drop.

Soon, the vault came into view.

It was located within the mountain, hidden by a massive boulder that would have gone unnoticed if you weren’t looking closely. As Chen Ren approached, he noticed the faint shimmer of runes carved along the rocky surface—redirection arrays.

“They must’ve redirected anyone who came too close,” he murmured. “Standard vault defense.”

The Blazing Ember Sect must’ve come prepared. Most old sect vaults used either redirection or illusion formations. It wasn’t hard to guess—they likely had mind-shielding artifacts to counter the effect. For a group like them, that kind of precaution was expected.

He studied the entrance a moment longer before glancing at Hong Yi. “Leave one of your puppets outside. If anyone follows us or the cultivators run out, I want to know.”

Hong Yi nodded and quickly commanded one of his smaller constructs, setting it just behind the boulder. Then Chen Ren turned to the others. “Let’s move.”

They stepped into the darkness.

The corridor was cut straight into the mountain—stone walls stretching endlessly, cold air brushing past their skin. Hong Yi struck a match and lit a torch, the flickering flame casting long shadows across the walls. Their puppets walked in front, heavy steps echoing, ready to trigger any traps—but Chen Ren knew there wouldn’t be any this close to the entrance.

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Still, he kept his eyes low, scanning the dust-filled stone beneath them. Footprints. He counted them as they walked. Some were deep and heavy. Two of them were light and spaced far apart—scouts, quick on their feet.

“Your dantians,” Chen Ren whispered as they moved, glancing at Hong Yi and Yalan. “You’ve shrouded them, right?”

Hong Yi gave a tight nod. “I have.”

Yalan scoffed. “My dantian is always shrouded. I’m not a rookie.”

Chen Ren allowed himself a small breath. One of the more valuable things he’d learned from Yalan recently—core shrouding. A vital technique for stealth. At higher realms, cultivators could sense one another from a distance, thanks to the qi that naturally leaked from their cores. So, shrouding was necessary.

It was something Anji didn’t need, being a mortal. But for them, it could mean the difference between life and death in these narrow corridors. Even as he silently checked himself again—making sure no qi slipped past his control—Chen Ren kept his senses sharp. Every flicker of light, every shift in shadow along the corridor walls made his fingers twitch. He didn’t want anything surprising jumping onto them.

Even if their presence was cloaked from other cultivators, it didn’t mean they were invisible to beasts—and according to Anji, the vault housed more than just traps. There were old nests, left behind as part of the ruins’ natural defense. Beasts raised in the dark, meant to guard what lay buried.

But thirty minutes into the walk, Chen Ren began to suspect that threat had passed—for now. The group halted momentarily as they came upon several carcasses scattered across the corridor floor.

Large, leathery-winged creatures with bloated torsos and sunken eyes. Overgrown bat-like creatures he recognised as nightfeeders—known for sinking their hooked fangs into human prey and draining them dry. Even the sight of them was enough to make Hong Yi grimace.

As they knelt to inspect the bodies, Chen Ren narrowed his eyes. Charred.

Some were burned clean through, ribs split open like dried husks. Others had been crushed outright, their blackened limbs embedded in the stone walls. Splatters of blood painted the rock in jagged arcs.

One of them had hit hard. A brawler, most likely. Someone with strength-based techniques or an artifact that amplified brute force. He filed the detail away for later—until he knew which cultivator it was, it wouldn’t help.

“At least we’re on the right path,” Hong Yi muttered, gaze still on the mangled corpses. “But I guess there’s only one path here, so it’s natural.”

The deeper they went, the more the silence pressed on them. With every step, the corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, turning from passage to maze.

And still, there was no sign of the enemy.

Chen Ren’s unease began to grow.

How massive was this structure? He had known it was deep, but this felt like walking through a tomb built for a sect ten times the size of theirs. It was horrifying to say the least.

Still, he kept his calm, knowing that no matter how far the Blazing Ember cultivators had come… they weren’t leaving with the inheritance. They couldn’t. The final chamber, the true vault, was sealed—possibly accessible only by someone at the meridian expansion realm or above by force. It would take time, effort, and strength far beyond what this team carried. If anything, they were scouts, maybe sent to map it out before an elder or the sect leader came to claim the prize themselves.

That would only happen if these five made it back alive. They shouldn’t, he thought to himself.

His eyes wandered around the path.

More nightfeeder corpses littered the way ahead. Their burned and broken bodies forced the group to slow their pace, but they didn’t stop. Eventually, the corridor widened—and split.

It was a fork, the one he had been waiting for.

Chen Ren raised a hand, halting the group. He crouched near the stone and traced the dusty floor with his fingers, reading the path through faint tracks. Three sets of footsteps went left. Two went right.

His brows furrowed. “They split.”

The prints were clear, and among them, he could see lighter ones—quick, careful. Likely the twins. One went left and one right. He turned to Anji.

“Thoughts?”

She studied the fork, then pointed left. “This one leads to the main vault chamber. There are a few chambers before it, but they’re guarded—traps and beast and puppet guardians. It won’t be easy.”

Chen Ren tilted his head toward the right passage. “And that one?”

She hesitated. “Not sure. But… My father once told me that before the guardians were brought in, some cultivators were stationed here to protect the vault. They had quarters carved into the mountain, so it’s probably that .”

“Why did they stop?”

“One of them tried to steal the inheritance. After that, the elders decided beasts and mindless puppets were more trustworthy.”

Chen Ren let out a dry breath. “Hard to argue with that.”

Yalan perched low, taking a proper look at the paths. “So what are we doing?”

“It’s simple. We’re not getting a better chance than this to thin their numbers. Taking all five head-on would stretch us too thin—but now? This is a golden opportunity.”

He pointed down the left corridor. “I’ll take Anji and one of Hong Yi’s puppets. We’ll follow the group that went left. That path should lead to the quarters—and hopefully to the two qi refinement realm cultivators.”

Then he turned to the other. “You and Hong Yi go right. If we’re right, that path leads to the sect vault. And with you there, Hong Yi won’t have to worry as much.”

“Will we be able to follow the tracks easily?” Yalan asked, her whiskers twitching.

Chen Ren nodded. “They’re not hiding their movements. Probably think they’re alone down here and I don’t think they would shroud their cores.”

Hong Yi frowned, glancing toward the left path. “And what if one of them is a foundation establishment realm cultivator?”

Chen Ren offered a slight shrug. “Then we pull back and regroup. Yalan can speak to me mentally—we’ll stay in touch. But if it’s the two scouts, I can handle them. Fast and clean.”

Yalan smirked faintly. “You think you can take down two of them at once?”

“I’ve got tricks,” Chen Ren said calmly. “And a puppet. That’s more than enough. Trust me—I’ve got plans.”

No one objected, though Hong Yi’s expression said enough. He didn’t like being sent off to face two stronger enemies—even with Yalan by his side. But he didn’t argue. At least with her, he must have felt he had a chance.

They split at the fork, silent as ghosts.

Chen Ren and Anji moved swiftly down the left passage. The air was cooler here, the walls tighter, torches still burning—lit recently by the cultivators ahead. Their shadows danced along the walls, moving right beside them. He had a feeling that the more they walked, the closer they were getting.

But Anji from the side couldn’t keep the silence. “Are you sure you can handle them?”

Chen Ren caught the note of worry beneath it. Whether it was for his safety or hers, he didn’t know.

He whispered back, “I’ve grown. And according to Yalan, if they are actually the qi refinement realm ones, they are the weakest of the group. If we’re not walking into a trap, this is the best scenario we could ask for.” He paused for a breath. “And half the battle is knowing where to fight. I think I can beat them.”

The truth?

He wasn’t sure. Anything could go wrong. A missed strike, a hidden artifact, a wrong assumption. But he trusted in his preparation—his instincts, his techniques, the puppet at his side. And most of all, he knew this was the risk he’d chosen.

He’d come too far to second-guess himself now. But he didn’t want to worry the woman who put her trust in this either. If anything came, he would take on it head-first.

His thoughts paused when the corridor narrowed into a choke point, and when the walls gave way to a larger chamber ahead. Both their feet slowed down.

***

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