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Dao of money Chapter 161
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 17:23:29 +0000 UTCChapter 161
In an instant, it felt as if the world itself had stilled.
The voice that rang out froze the gorge in place. Disciples who had been lunging for Zi Wen, Hong Yi, and his puppets halted mid-strike, their blades trembling in the air. From above, hidden cultivators leaping down from the cliffs staggered mid-flight, their footing breaking as their bodies slammed against stone, bullets piercing them before they even struck the ground.
Even Shen Linao faltered. The fiery tide of his aura recoiled at once, collapsing back into his dantian as if doused by ice water.
His face drained of color almost immediately, lips parting in a silent gasp. It was as though he had heard a voice long buried, a ghost that haunted his dreams, and a name carved into his fear.
Only Chen Ren looked composed, his eyes calm amidst the chaos. Relaxed, even. Their gamble had borne fruit. At least… I hope so, he thought, lifting his gaze to the sky.
Qing He floated there, her robes billowing gently against the oppressive silence. Yet Chen Ren’s eyes did not linger on her.
They locked instead on the man beside her.
Flames twisted around him, licking his limbs, wreathing him in a crown of fire. Chen Ren couldn’t properly see his face; the pressure alone was enough. Subtle, restrained, yet unmistakable—he stood in a realm none present could touch. Even without a domain manifest, Chen Ren felt it in his bones: the man was a breath away from one.
He wore the same cut and color robes as Shen Linao—deep red and black—though his shone brighter, and richer than Shen Linao’s own, even though tattered edges and scorched hems. His shade of robe was not reserved for common disciples or even elders. But someone higher.
Chen Ren felt the weight of it before he even turned his eyes toward Shen Linao.
The old man’s lips opened, then closed. Then they opened again. No sound came. His chest heaved as though words caught in his throat, strangled before breath. His eyes betrayed him—terror glinting there. Chen Ren felt a cruel satisfaction creeping to his bones by the look on his face.
Slowly, the man of flames descended. His feet did not touch the ground. He hovered just above it, gaze sweeping across the camp.
The gorge had fallen silent.
That was when Chen Ren looked at him properly. His face was long and narrow, with sharp cheekbones that had shadows. His jaw was squared, framed by a silver streaked beard. The old man had a sharp nose which made him even more intimidating.
Most striking of all were his eyes—a shade of gray that made him look—soulless.
Chen Ren carved the man’s face to his mind and shifted his gaze to the surroundings. Some of the Blazing Ember Sect disciples had their foreheads pressed against the earth. Their qi trembled, unwilling to resist the force pressing against their cores.
Even Chen Ren felt it—the invisible weight, a pressure that bent the spine and suffocated the lungs. His knees strained, his bones groaned, but he forced himself upright. He alone remained standing, the faintest flicker of defiance in his eyes, as the old man’s gaze locked on Shen Linao.
“Linao,” the man said at last. “Decades ago, I left you to tend to my sect. And I see that you have grown in those years. But tell me, have you done what I asked of you when I left?”
Shen Linao’s lips twitched. “I… I did…” His head dipped, and then, with reluctance heavy in every word, he finally said, “Sect Leader, Xinyan”
“I made sure our sect prospered beyond its limits,” Shen Linao continued quickly, as though to cover the quiver in his voice. “We have taken in the most talented disciples, those who understand the glory of flames, the intensity of our way. Our foundations have never been stronger.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed, flames coiling tighter about him. “Yet what I have heard… about this war with the Void Blade Sect. That is not what I instructed.”
Shen Linao’s jaw tightened. “It was inevitable. They sought to launch war upon us. I only did what was necessary, what I believed was right as the sect regent.”
Elder Xinyan’s gaze sharpened. “You believed the right course was to eradicate them? To burn their sect grounds until nothing remained? You understand why they were valuable to us, yes? A war does not demand annihilation. Do you understand me?!”
Shen Linao’s face hardened, his spine stiffening beneath the rebuke. “I did what was necessary. It brought glory to Blazing Ember Sect. I wielded power, and so I acted. I don’t think you should mind it, Sect Leader… but—” his voice trembled faintly, the question forced out—“should I ask how you are here? I thought you were to be—”
The old man cut him off. “In seclusion? For another decade?” A cold smile touched his lips. “Yes. That was the plan. My cultivation had been advancing steadily, though slowly. I could have waited, and I would have emerged far stronger.”
His eyes grew colder, the weight of his gaze sweeping across every trembling disciple.
“But then… I was woken.”
“Who… who dared such a thing?” Shen Linao asked, looking around as if all the terrified cultivators had answers. No one said anything, all their gazes locked on the ground.
“Shen Linao, you need not worry about that! What happened was necessary. Had I not been woken, I would not have been able to save my sect,” Elder Xinyan spoke ever so slowly, fire moving around his arms in circles.
Shen Linao’s brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion flashing across his face. “Save… the sect? From whom, Sect Leader? Blazing Ember has not been this rich, this glorious, since its founding.”
“Rich. Glorious. Yes, the surface shines. But parasites have burrowed deep, Linao. They have veered from the sacred path of cultivation. Their loyalty is not to the sect, but to their own greed, their own advancement. So long as their flames burn higher, they will watch our foundations crumble.”
A confused expression spread across Shen Linao’s face, carefully crafted. “Sect Leader… I don’t understand.” His voice quavered with practiced humility.
Chen Ren’s eyes narrowed. He did understand. That feigned confusion, that tilt of the head, that half-step backward—It was the mask of a man stalling, buying breath, preparing.
Around them, disciples were frozen, too enthralled by the conversation between the two to notice anything else.
Chen Ren seized the moment. With a subtle gesture, he drew Hong Yi and Zi Wen back, Yalan falling in step without a word. They slipped farther into the gorge’s shadows, far enough that when the storm broke—and it would—they would not be caught in its first, crushing wave.
Still, Chen Ren’s gaze never left Shen Linao. The old man wore the mask of confusion well, nodding, bowing his head, pretending to be lost in his sect leader’s words. But Chen Ren could see the cracks—how his eyes never blinked, how his fingers twitched ever so slightly, how the aura around him thickened with every passing breath.
Xinyan’s voice grew harder. “Do you really not grasp what I’m saying? Do you truly believe no one can sense it in you?” The flames at his back roared louder, a tide threatening to consume. “Confess. Reveal everything. Do that, and I will spare you from death. Whatever punishment you deserve, you will endure, but you will live.”
Shen Linao bowed his head deeper, his voice soft, trembling. “Sect Leader… I truly don’t know what you mean.”
Despite his words, a second later his qi erupted.
Though Chen Ren was prepared, he was taken back. He expected the same oppressive wave he had wielded before, but no, this was suffocating in its strength. Snow hissed into steam as his qi clawed outward.
Even at a distance, Chen Ren's heart lurched in his chest.
The air split as Shen Linao’s qi surged again—no longer the steady blaze of a seasoned cultivator, but something warped, something wrong. His fire qi roared outward, tainted with a murky blackness that twisted its heat into suffocating pressure.
When it struck Xinyan and Qing He, the ground groaned in protest. Stone cracked open like brittle bone, the ground beneath their feet splitting wide. Several disciples screamed as the earth collapsed, bodies tumbling into the sudden fissures.
Shen Linao’s figure blurred, charging forward. His fist clenched, and from it manifested a claw of dark, blazing fire—talons stretching, burning as though to tear heaven itself apart. He slashed at Xinyan, a strike heavy enough to rend the air—
—only for the figure in flames to shift aside with effortless grace. The attack ripped into empty space, tearing another scar into the gorge wall.
“I never expected you of all people to appear here today!” Shen Linao’s voice was hoarse, shrill, yet burning with madness. “But it makes no difference! I’ll crush you here and now—strip away this title of sect regent, and claim the sect leader’s mantle for myself!”
“Ha ha ha.” Elder Xinyan’s laughter rang out rolling through the gorge like an inferno. Flames gushed from his body, pouring from his very stomach until they spiraled into massive burning hands.
“Corrupted!” he spat, his eyes alight with fury. “I always knew your soul was dull, Linao, but I thought at least your mind had sense enough to steer it. I was wrong. Clearly. Look at you!”
The flaming hands lashed out, each the size of a house, slamming down on Shen Linao. He met them with his own claws, dark fire howling as it clashed with the pure blaze.
The collision erupted.
A detonation of flame and darkness burst outward, rattling the gorge, hurling rubble down from the cliffs. The world shook with the shockwave.
To Chen Ren’s left, one of the hidden cultivators was flung down from his perch, landing hard. His face was pale as ash as he staggered back up, eyes darting between the clashing titans. Then his gaze fell on Chen Ren.
Their eyes met—just once—before the man bolted, scrambling out of the valley as though death itself snapped at his heels.
He was not the last.
Other disciples, shaken from their stupor by the explosion, began to scatter. Some ran outright, vanishing into the snowy cliffs with panicked shouts. Others dove behind rocks and fissures, curling into whatever shelter they could find. There were only a handful that refused to flee. Even as the fight between sect leader and regent threatened to devour everything around them.
Zi Wen watched it happen and his hand stroked Sori who was perched on his shoulder. Little Yuze had made his way behind them. “For those who dabble in demonic arts themselves. They know what’s coming even if they gain power to deny it everyday.”
Chen Ren nodded faintly at Zi Wen’s words, though his eyes never left the battlefield.
Against the wall, Hong Yi slumped with a puppet at his side, his face pale but his lips twitching into something between disbelief and relief. “I can’t believe this actually worked…”
The words struck closer to Chen Ren’s own heart than he cared to admit. He hadn’t believed it either, not fully. So many threads could have frayed, so many variables could have snapped apart at the seams. But somehow, against all odds, it worked.
The idea had first struck him from a single thread of truth he stumbled across. For decades, Blazing Ember Sect and Void Blade Sect had barked and bitten at each other, but never gone for the throat. Skirmishes, ambushes, a steady river of blood, but no true war.
And Qing He had once told him that rivalries were sometimes cultivated deliberately, a stage built for disciples to sharpen their blades against one another, Chen Ren had begun to wonder. Could it be the same here?
The shift came when he learned that Sect Leader Xinyan had gone into seclusion, entrusting everything to Shen Linao. The thought had clung to him: what if they weren’t the same? Perhaps Xinyan wasn't the most righteous, but what if he wasn't corrupted like Shen Linao.
If the leader himself had been a demonic cultivator, Chen Ren reasoned, Shen Linao would never have hesitated. He would not have waited for him to go into seclusion before starting a war.
That was the gamble.
If he was right, then the true way to face overwhelming power was not to shatter it head-on, but to lure another greater power against it.
And so, the seed of his plan was planted.
Void Blade Sect had shallow rumors of where the Blazing Ember leader had gone into seclusion. And even without those whispers, some truths were obvious: a cultivator following the path of flames would not hide in plains or lakes, but in volcanoes, moldering mountains, or in hidden craters where earth and flame merged.
He had simply asked Qing He to scour them. Every likely place within reach. It had been a huge request, to ask her of it. But she agreed and found him.
It worked, Chen Ren thought again, his lips tightening into a faint smile. The board is broken, but at least the pieces aren’t falling on me.
Now all Chen Ren had to do was wait. To watch the sect leader, Xinyan himself, tear into Shen Linao.
And he had to admit—it was a fight worth all the trouble.
Black-tinted flame clashed against burning crimson fire in the sky, every collision blooming into explosions that devoured chunks of the gorge. Rock shattered, cliffs crumbled, and each detonation sent a storm of ash and embers raining down. It was impossible to say who had the upper hand. To Chen Ren’s eyes, they were still measuring, each strike testing, each burst probing.
It sent shivers down his spine.
“...We’ll be fine, right?” Hong Yi muttered beside him, his voice thin, a hand clutching his puppet as though it could shield him from the falling sky. Chen Ren had the same question after seeing the destruction happen above.
Yalan purred next to them. “If anything strays our way, I’ll cut it down–” she paused as a huge explosion took place. “–Just watch. It will be good for you—see what higher-realm cultivators look like when they fight to kill.”
Before Chen Ren could answer, a familiar presence brushed against his senses. Qing He landed lightly beside them, her robes fluttering in the fiery wind. Her eyes never left the battlefield.
“She’s right,” Qing He said evenly. “Since you’ve chosen to follow this kid, one day a higher-realm cultivator will come to kill you. Better to see now what level of power you’ll be facing, than to go blind.”
Chen Ren smiled awkwardly. “If that time comes, I’ll just rely on you.” Because in reality, he was not prepared for such a battle.
Qing He scoffed, folding her arms. “I’ve already done you a greater favor than you deserve. That should last you for a long time. Now watch. And pray Shen Linao dies here.”
Chen Ren nodded, drawing in a slow breath as he fixed his eyes on the sky.
And in the short span of their exchange, the fight had shifted. The testing blows had turned heavier, sharper, crueler.
He saw Elder Xinyan driving Shen Linao back, wielding a massive hammer of flames, each swing carving through stone and air alike. Shen Linao darted away, his body cloaked in corrupted fire, hurling boulders of condensed qi that exploded in burning shards around his foe.
Yet the sect leader pressed through, his hammer swelling, multiplying before their eyes until the sky was filled with a storm of blazing weapons. Each one roared like a dragon, hammering down in unison as though the heavens themselves sought to flatten Shen Linao into dust.
Dozens of hammers blazed across the sky, chasing Shen Linao like a swarm of falling stars. He spat out more of his projectiles in a rush, sending them bursting into the air. One struck a hammer dead on, the clash tearing into a violent explosion that shook the sky.
The blast hurled Shen Linao down. His body smashed into the side of the gorge, the rock splintering beneath him, smoke and fire bursting outward in waves.
Xinyan didn’t pause. In a blink he was there, closing the gap, his flaming hammer swelling larger with each step in the air. It came down like the hand of a god, ready to crush Shen Linao into nothing.
Dark fire poured out of Shen Linao, cloaking him in a shield that twisted and squirmed.
The hammer slammed against it, sparks flying, the gorge roaring with the sound. The black flames burned hot, but they cracked under the weight, fragments peeling away like embers torn in a storm. At the last instant, Shen Linao threw himself aside, leaping back into the air with his robes scorched and his hair in tatters.
Chen Ren’s eyes narrowed. For a moment he thought the man might turn to flee. The fight was slipping away from him; each exchange showed it clearer. Yet instead of retreating, Shen Linao’s gaze snapped toward Chen Ren.
Fuck, is he going to?
His face twisted with rage. He bellowed, his voice raw. “Chen Ren! This is all your doing!”
Blackened Qi exploded out of him, wild and reckless. Some burned across his own disciples, their screams cut short as fire wrapped around them. Shen Linao didn’t look back. His body blurred as he charged straight for Chen Ren, a storm of fireballs pouring from his fists.
The attacks screamed across the gorge, but Chen Ren didn’t move. He stood straight and locked eyes with him.
Yalan moved first. Her tail flared, flames spilling from it in a blazing wave. They met Shen Linao’s fire head-on, the two forces crashing together with a blast so bright it burned the air white. The shockwave rolled over them, shaking the walls of the gorge.
Chen Ren raised a hand, qi surging from his dantian. Before he could, a dome of light spread out before him, shielding his eyes and the others as burning shards scattered around them.
When the smoke cleared, Qing He was already there, her qi layered thick as steel walls. She let out a sigh, her voice sharp with irritation. “Do I always have to protect you children?”
Chen Ren opened his mouth, ready to reply, when the air shifted again. Shen Linao roared, his body twisting as he gathered strength for another strike.
But before he could release it, strong and massive chains of flame shot out from above. They wrapped around his arms, his waist, his throat—binding him in burning light.
Shen Linao choked and thrashed, his demonic qi flaring as he fought to break free, but the chains only tightened, sizzling against his flesh.
Chen Ren turned his head just enough to see Elder Xinyan descending, his hands raised. The ground itself seemed to bow under his presence.
“Linao, I will burn you to a crisp,” his voice thundered across the gorge, “for shaming the name of my sect.”
The chains pulled tight, dragging Shen Linao screaming toward him, the flames roaring louder as though eager to devour him whole.
Comments
Æios
Thank you for the chapter. Well it's certainly not the imperial forces, but close enough.
