Dao of Money

Chen Ren moved through the streets of Goldspire City with a spring in his step.

The past week had been relentless.

Sleep had become a luxury, meals were taken standing, and every waking moment had been spent preparing for the opening of the shop. Pills, artifacts, cultivation techniques—everything that mattered was finally in place. Shelves were stocked, pills were tested again and again, and artifacts were working as well as he had hoped. If the plan failed now, it wouldn’t be because of a lack of preparation.

Still, the cost had been steep.

His ranking had fallen hard.

He opened the rankings briefly as he walked, eyes narrowing at the number beside his name—950. Nearly scraping the bottom. He had spent every last token he possessed, funneling it all into the shop. Others in his group had dropped as well, their rankings steadily sliding, but none as dramatically as his.

Chen Ren had expected complaints or even doubts. But none came—they trusted him.

Even Princess Yanyue had said nothing. She had fallen from sixteenth to five hundred and seventy-eight after investing heavily in him. She spent more time inside the shop than anyone else, working through logistics with calm efficiency.

Of course, she wasn’t doing it for free. Twenty percent of the profits would go to her.

Still, Chen Ren was grateful. And more than that, he knew he couldn’t afford to let her down.

As he walked, the noise of the city faded into the background, replaced by a growing weight in his chest. The next hour would decide everything. Whether his dao held weight in this place… or whether he had just burned through weeks of effort for nothing.

He broke into a light jog down the main street, cut through two side roads, then turned sharply at a familiar corner.

A large three-storey building rose before him.

Its walls were tall and newly reinforced, the surface polished until it reflected the afternoon light. Guards stood posted at measured intervals. The patrols only gave him glances as he moved towards the main doors.

Chen Ren had been coming here every day for the past week.

Without exception.

He had tried everything—waiting patiently in the halls, sending small gifts, even timing his visits to moments where he might finally get a meeting. None of it had worked. The guard captain of Goldspire City had been drowning in work ever since the fifth floor opened. Cultivators poured into the city in waves, many of them arrogant, desperate, or outright troublesome. Fights broke out just outside the walls, residents complained endlessly, and the guards were stretched thin enforcing laws that half the cultivators refused to respect.

Most of the residents were uneasy now, eyeing the climbers with suspicion despite the city guards trying hard to make sure everything went well.

Chen Ren understood why he had been ignored. Still, understanding didn’t make it any less frustrating.

Fortunately, today was different.

He finally had a scheduled meeting. And Chen Ren had no intention of being late.

He quickened his pace and soon arrived at the gates of the guard headquarters. The two guards stationed there brightened when they saw him.

Before either of them could speak, Chen Ren shook his head with a faint smile and reached into his spatial ring. Two steaming bowls of noodles appeared in his hands—the ones Anji had prepared earlier this morning.

The reaction was immediate.

Both guards’ eyes lit up with barely concealed greed. One of them practically snatched a bowl. while the other followed a heartbeat later. Chen Ren calmly produced a spare pair of chopsticks from his robes and handed them over. They began slurping noisily, completely forgetting their professional demeanor.

Between mouthfuls, one of the guards spoke, “Second floor. Third room on the left.” He paused, swallowed, then added, “You’re ten minutes early, but just go in. Captain Lu Jianhong is free right now.”

Chen Ren nodded. “Thank you.”

As he walked past them, the second guard called out with his mouth half full, “Bring us more of these next time.”

Chen Ren laughed softly. “I will.”

He wound his way through the guard headquarters, passing orderly corridors and rooms buzzing with quiet activity. The atmosphere was tense but controlled—exactly what he expected from the heart of city enforcement.

Reaching the second floor, he stopped at the third door and raised his hand to knock.

A gruff voice sounded from inside. “Come in.”

Chen Ren opened the door and stepped inside.

The guard captain sat behind a broad desk, armor set aside, posture straight despite the fatigue etched into his features. Chen Ren bowed deeply.

“Thank you for giving me a moment of your time, Captain Lu Jianhong.”

The man nodded slowly, his sharp eyes never leaving Chen Ren.

“My men seem to like you, for some reason,” he said. “And you’re more polite than most climbers who come through these doors. That’s why I agreed to hear you out.” He leaned back slightly. “Now tell me, why have you been trying to meet me?”

He paused, then added flatly, “If this is about making the lift fare cheaper, then don’t waste your breath. Laws are laws. I can’t and won’t bend them.”

Chen Ren shook his head immediately. “I wouldn’t ask for something like that. I respect the city’s laws.”

Captain Lu Jianhong raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”

Before answering, Chen Ren said calmly, “Before I explain my request, I brought something for you.”

He reached into his spatial ring and produced a bottle of deep red wine, placing it gently on the desk.

The bottle alone spoke of quality.

It had cost him a hundred tokens—a sum that wasn’t insignificant in Goldspire City, especially for wine. Chen Ren had done his homework. Of all the luxuries Captain Lu indulged in, this particular brew was his favorite.

As expected, the moment the bottle touched the desk, Lu Jianhong rose from his chair. His gaze fixed on it, fingers twitching as if he wanted nothing more than to pull the cork and take a long drink.

The past weeks had been relentless for him. Climber disputes, city unrest, endless enforcement. The wine was a promise of relief.

But after a heartbeat, the captain forced himself to step back. His expression hardened as he looked at Chen Ren again.

“I can’t accept a gift without knowing why it’s being given,” he said.

Chen Ren met his gaze evenly. “The reason is simple. I’m gifting it to you because of how hard you’ve been working, and to show that my companions and I stand firmly on the side of the law.”

Lu Jianhong studied him for a long moment, weighing his words.

“Even so,” the captain said at last, “you wouldn’t come all this way without a request.”

Chen Ren smiled sheepishly. “It’s a small request.”

Lu Jianhong crossed his arms, waiting.

“I’m helping one of the city’s residents rebrand his cultivation shop,” Chen Ren continued. “We’re planning to open it this week. I was hoping you—and your men—could visit for about an hour during one of your patrols.”

The guard captain frowned slightly. “Visit?”

“Yes,” Chen Ren said quickly. “I’m not asking you to buy anything. Just stop by. Walk through the shop. If it happens while you’re on duty, no one will think twice about it.”

Lu Jianhong raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”

“That’s all,” Chen Ren replied. “You can take a look at the products if you want, and we’ll be serving noodles to everyone who visits. They’re a delicacy from where I come from.”

That made the captain fall silent.

He glanced at the wine on the desk again, then back at Chen Ren. The request was harmless. No bending of laws. No favors that could be questioned later.

“There won’t be anything else?” Lu Jianhong asked.

“Of course not,” Chen Ren said without hesitation. “I’m a man of my word.”

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The captain studied him for another moment, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll come with my men. We won’t stay longer than an hour.” He snorted lightly. “I don’t quite understand how my presence helps you, but you’ve treated me—and my men—well enough. I won’t question it.”

Chen Ren’s face lit up instantly. He bowed deeply. “Thank you, Captain Lu. Truly.”

He didn’t linger after that, taking his leave so the man could enjoy his wine in peace. As he climbed down the stairs of the guard headquarters, a grin spread across his face.

Everything was falling into place.

More cultivators were arriving in Goldspire City by the hour, and with the guards’ presence, they would definitely stop to see what was going on at his shop.

And in the end, the guards weren’t the only ones he was counting on. He also had the princess’ support with him, and that meant having the royal family support itself.

***

Jun felt that the Pagoda of Eternity was both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing, because within its walls he could kill as many cultivators as he wished, and the outside world would never learn of it. He had always found it troublesome to eliminate promising talents beyond such sealed domains. Sooner or later, a clan or a sect would trace the blood back to him, and Jun had no interest in wasting time slaughtering entire lineages just to silence grudges. Here, death was expected. Here, it was swallowed by the pagoda itself.

And yet, it was also a curse.

Until now, he had failed to obtain the medallion. Worse, he had not managed to kill a single Guardian sect disciple. Even the so-called treasures he had come across were laughable—useless to him, and of no benefit to his two disciples either. The fifth floor’s city promised rarer goods, but everything worth having demanded an absurd amount of tokens. Jun had no intention of stealing here.

The pagoda’s presence was suffocating, its influence went into every stone and street. Any crime committed within the city would mark him instantly.

Jun did not fear such a mark.

What he feared was being forced to reveal himself if he got the pagoda’s scrutiny.

He had deliberately suppressed his cultivation, regressing himself to the peak of the foundation establishment realm. It was a dangerous gamble, but a necessary one. If he unleashed his true strength, even for a moment, the pagoda might recognize him for what he was, and expel him. He had not endured this far only to be thrown out without the medallion in hand.

So he endured.

For now, the only thing he could do was kill more cultivators.

He had already taken a few lives, but none of them were worth remembering. They were weak and unremarkable. The Guardian sects, meanwhile, moved in tight groups, cautious and disciplined. He hadn’t even been able to fight one of them in the arena.

Jun scoffed inwardly.

He had been unlucky before, many times over the course of his long life. It seemed that, even here, fortune had not yet turned in his favor.

And now, he spent most of his time on the fifth floor gathering information about the medallion.

A single week was enough for him to be certain—it was not here. If it existed within the city at all, then it was likely already into the hands of the city lord.

He had briefly considered breaking into the castle to confirm it for himself, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Drawing that much attention while his cultivation was suppressed would be foolish.

From everything he had pieced together, the more likely answer was that the medallion lay on one of the upper floors, waiting as a reward for those strong—or foolish—enough to climb higher. And if that turned out to be wrong, he could always retreat. He had already purchased more than enough return tickets to travel back to any floor he had previously visited.

As he was weighing his next move, a knock echoed against the door.

“Come in,” Jun said calmly.

The door opened, and his two disciples stepped inside. Their robes were stained with blood, but their breathing was steady and their movements unhurried. They bowed deeply after pausing in front of him.

Wenji spoke first. “Master, we returned from hunting for tokens. We also gathered the information you asked for.”

Jun regarded him. “Any surprises?”

Shuyi shook her head. “None. We focused on monsters, but by the end of it, we also encountered a group of foundation establishment cultivators. They seemed to belong to an Established sect, and were… easy enough to kill.”

“Good,” Jun said. “But I’ve already told you—small fries are meaningless. They do nothing for us.” His gaze sharpened, and both disciples straightened instinctively. “I told you to watch the Guardian sects.”

Wenji swallowed before replying. “They’re mostly hunting the strongest beasts near the edges of the floor in large groups, master. Soaring Sword Sect, Thunder Blade Sect, and Frostpeak Sect are all doing that.”

Shuyi added, “The Emerald Sun Sect is different. Most of their people are staying inside the city. Otherwise, we would have targeted them.”

Jun’s expression darkened.

“So,” he said coldly, “you’re telling me you couldn’t take care of even a single Guardian sect disciple? Do you want me to go and kill them myself because you’re too incompetent?”

Both of them shook their heads immediately. Wenji shifted uncomfortably, while Shuyi lowered her gaze.

“No, Master,” Wenji said quickly. “We won’t disappoint you again.”

Shuyi nodded just as fast. “We swear it.”

Jun studied them for a long moment before giving a slow nod. “Make sure of it. I want at least a few Guardian sect disciples dead before we leave this floor.” His tone was calm, but the threat beneath it was unmistakable. “As for the tokens, I’ll gather what’s needed by myself. I’ve grown bored of playing informant in this city.”

He paused, then added, “You said you had information for me.”

Shuyi immediately nodded. “Yes, Master. We gathered intelligence on Prince Yuelan and Princess Yanyue like you asked. I believe it will interest you.”

That earned her his full attention.

“Speak,” Jun said simply.

“Prince Yuelan is still in the city,” she explained. “He’s been trying to arrange meetings with the Guardian sects. Most of the noble sons and daughters who entered with him are either dead or out hunting tokens, but that’s not the interesting part.”

“It turns out Princess Yanyue has acquired a shop here in the city,” Shuyi continued after a breath. “There are whispers that it’s opening tomorrow.”

“A shop?” Jun repeated, frowning. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

He knew the city’s laws well enough. Foreigners couldn’t own businesses. The rules were rigid, enforced by the pagoda itself.

Wenji stepped in. “Apparently, she used a proxy. A resident remains the official owner, but control of the business lies elsewhere.”

Jun’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

“There’s more,” Shuyi said carefully. “Princess Yanyue didn’t arrange any of this herself. The one handling everything is a man named Chen Ren. He’s the sect leader of a small, Emerging sect. But the princess seems to favor him greatly.”

Silence filled the room.

Jun leaned back slowly, his fingers tapping against the armrest. He had watched Princess Yanyue for a long time. Among the royal family, she was the most dangerous—calculating, patient, and never wasteful with her trust. For her to take interest in someone seemingly insignificant was not normal.

“Chen Ren…” Jun repeated softly.

He looked back at his disciples, his gaze turning sharp enough to make them tense.

“Give me everything you have on him,” he said. “And if you don’t have enough—go find more. I want to know who he is, what he’s done, and why the princess is backing him.”

***

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