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Dao of money Chapter 64
🕑 Added 2025-01-30 17:42:30 +0000 UTCChapter 64
Chen Ren froze as he looked up at the cultivator in front of him, who looked equally shocked. For a while, neither of them spoke, and time itself seemed to have frozen as they stared at each other.
A storm of thoughts whirled in his mind. Why was such a strong cultivator here? It was clear that the man wasn’t just some wandering rogue looking for recruitment—no, someone of his cultivation and roots could likely secure a spot in a Guardian sect if he wanted, at least as an outer disciple. So why had he come? What was his goal?
Before he could voice the question, the cultivator moved. His expression shifted from confusion to hostility in an instant, and he shot up from his chair, thrusting a palm strike toward Chen Ren.
Chen Ren’s instincts screamed at him, and he dodged just in time. Lightning arced through his body as he countered, but before he could land a blow, the man suddenly froze.
Then, with a choked gasp, he was slammed to the ground.
His eyes widened in horror as an invisible force bore down on him, pinning him in place. Chen Ren extinguished his lightning and stepped back, realizing what had happened.
Yalan.
She had focused her aura solely on the rogue cultivator, and now he was nearly kissing the floor under its weight.
Taking advantage of the situation, Chen Ren quickly moved to shut the door, ensuring no one outside would see or hear what was happening.
Yalan stepped forward, stretching out her limbs as if she didn’t just push a large man down. "Who are you to attack someone I swore to protect?" she asked and narrowed her eyes.
The man's breath hitched, his pupils contracting as he looked at Yalan and slowly, comprehension dawned on his face. He was in the presence of someone who could end him as easily as stepping on an ant.
His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, panic flickering in his eyes.
Chen Ren glanced at Yalan and gestured for her to ease the pressure. A moment later, the weight bearing down on the man lessened, allowing his shoulders to relax slightly. But he still remained on his knees, clearly shaken.
He looked up at them, swallowing hard before speaking. "A meridian expansion realm master…" he muttered, almost as if confirming it to himself.
Chen Ren crossed his arms. "At least your qi perception is decent. Now, will you tell me what you're doing here? And why did you suddenly attack me?"
The man gulped, his eyes shifting to something between regret and fear. He looked like someone who had stepped into a place he never should have entered.
"My name is Hong Yi," he said at last. "I've been staying in the nearby Grassfield Village for a few months now. When I heard about a sect recruiting mortals and conducting aptitude tests, I got curious. Especially because I had never heard its name before."
He hesitated before continuing. "I… I thought it might be a demonic sect trying to gather sacrifices. Please, forgive me. I hadn't expected that such a powerful master beast would be behind it."
Chen Ren raised an eyebrow. "Now you know. But I do wonder if you're lying."
Hong Yi shook his head frantically. "No, no! I swear, I’ve told you the truth!"
Chen Ren studied the man in silence, his sharp gaze searching for any trace of falsehood. Hong Yi fidgeted under the scrutiny, but his fear was genuine—or at least, he wasn’t putting on an act.
After a moment, Chen Ren nodded toward Yalan.
She immediately withdrew her aura, and Hong Yi nearly collapsed, sucking in a deep breath as if he had just escaped the jaws of death. Relief washed over his face, but before he could move from his kneeling position, Chen Ren spoke.
"You can’t leave yet," he said calmly. "I’m still curious about a few things, and it would be in your best interest to tell the truth."
Hong Yi stiffened but nodded quickly.
Chen Ren leaned against the chair "So, what are you doing in the village? With your spirit roots, I doubt you’re just some wandering rogue cultivator."
The man gulped, hesitation flickering in his eyes. "My situation is… complicated."
Chen Ren gave him a dry look. "You’re not the only one with a complicated situation here. Just talk."
A tense silence followed before Hong Yi finally sighed in defeat. "I’m a deserter from the Blood Iron Sect."
Yalan’s eyes narrowed. "A deserter? Why did you run away?"
Hong Yi hesitated, his fists clenching as if weighing whether to reveal the truth or not. But after a moment, he seemed to realize that hiding anything would only make things worse.
His shoulders slumped, and he spoke.
"It’s because I gained access to a meridian expansion realm cultivator’s inheritance."
Chen Ren’s eyebrows rose slightly, and even Yalan cast a surprise glance at him.
But neither interrupted, letting the man continue.
"It wasn’t an offensive technique, a cultivation manual, or even an artifact," Hong Yi added bitterly. "It’s… not something most cultivators would even have any use for."
Chen Ren noted the way Hong Yi’s hands curled slightly, the way his voice carried a trace of wariness—he clearly thought they were going to take the inheritance from him.
Maybe that was exactly what had happened in his sect.
Still, Chen Ren ignored those thoughts for now and asked the important question.
"What kind of inheritance was it?"
Hong Yi took a deep breath before answering. "The inheritance of a Puppet Master."
Chen Ren stilled. "Puppet Master…" he muttered under his breath.
The term stirred a distant memory—one of the many books he had read after coming to this world. It had been a small mention, barely a footnote, but he recalled the basics.
Puppets were another cultivation discipline, a rare and esoteric path that involved crafting constructs and fusing a part of oneself with them to establish control. It was an art that required precision, resources, and deep knowledge of formations.
It was a rare art—rarer than all three disciplines Chen Ren was currently learning. Puppet Masters weren’t just uncommon; they were almost myths, their techniques scattered and lost across generations.
And now, there was one kneeling right in front of him.
As he mused on this, Hong Yi continued.
"I found it during one of my adventures, deep beneath the caves of my sect. I don't know how, but the sect master found out about it soon after." His voice turned bitter. "At first, he was disappointed. My sect is a purely martial sect—they only house alchemists alongside their martial cultivators. A Puppet Master had no place among them."
He let out a dry chuckle. "But even then, it was still a novelty. Something unique. So for a while, I was treated well. They made me a core disciple and showered me with resources."
Yalan narrowed her eyes. "What changed?"
Hong Yi frowned, as if thinking back to something unpleasant. Then, after a moment, he exhaled.
"One of the elders… he didn’t like my sudden rise. So he reached out to an Established sect far in the south of the empire—one that already had Puppet Masters among their ranks." His voice grew darker. "And they made an offer. They promised my sect a fortune in resources, enough to help the sect master break through to the next realm… in exchange for my inheritance."
Chen Ren tensed, realising what might have happened. "But the inheritance you received isn’t something tangible, is it?"
Hong Yi gave a hollow smile. "No. It’s attached to my soul. It was knowledge—deep knowledge passed directly into my mind. I couldn’t just hand it over like an artifact or a scroll."
His hands clenched into fists. "So they gave me two options. Either I submit myself to the sect, allow them to strip every piece of knowledge from my mind, or they kill me and use an artifact to harvest my soul for it."
Chen Ren’s breath hitched, and his eyes darted toward Yalan.
"Do righteous sects even have things like soul-harvesting artifacts?"
"Some do. The line between so-called righteous and demonic practices is thin. And from what he's telling us, it sounds like his sect was willing to dispose of him for the sake of their leader’s breakthrough,” Yalan answered.
Hong Yi nodded grimly. "That’s why I ran. The moment I learned of their plan, I escaped as far as I could and hid myself in here, posing as an ordinary traveler. I barely leave my house, fearing that my cover might be blown."
He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "The only reason I came out today was because I thought you all were demonic cultivators. I figured I had to act before you did something terrible." He looked down. "I’m sorry for that."
Chen Ren barely heard him. His mind was racing.
A soul inheritance—especially one related to puppetry. That was a special kind of power. Power that intrigued him. He could think of countless cultivators who would go to any lengths for such an inheritance, not only because of the art of puppet making, but simply because it was a meridian expansion realm inheritance.
Those were far and few between in the whole empire. And judging by Hong Yi’s expression—the way he sat there, stiff and resigned—he fully expected to die here.
Fortunately for him, Chen Ren wasn’t one to force things.
His gaze shifted to Yalan, and with a mere thought, he mentally asked, What do you think?
Her response came almost instantly. I don’t think he’s lying, but yeah… his story is interesting. He’s lucky his sect hasn’t found him yet. He also can’t go to another sect since they might just turn him over. I doubt he’s in any position to trust someone.
Chen Ren nodded slightly. Yeah, but his power is interesting enough for me to want him.
Yalan’s voice turned dry. Don’t you know that would get the ire of an established sect?
I know, Chen Ren admitted, but a Puppet Master inheritance is too good to let go. Still, I don’t want to make a hasty decision before getting to know him.
He turned his attention back to Hong Yi.
"Your situation seems like a bad one to be in."
The man let out a short, humorless laugh. "I know. I live in constant fear of dying. The only thing I can do is work on my cultivation and my puppets—make sure I’m strong enough to face any trouble that comes my way. Or at least stall enough to run away again."
Chen Ren crossed his arms. "I don’t think that’s the only thing you can do."
Hong Yi frowned. "What else can I do?"
"Join my sect."
The man’s eyes widened slightly, but before he could respond, Chen Ren continued.
"I know we’re new, and you have your reservations. But if you join us, we wouldn’t give you away to anyone. And we’d make sure your rights are prioritized."
Even after hearing that, Hong Yi still didn’t look convinced. Chen Ren understood why.
The place barely resembled a proper sect. There were no grand halls, no established reputation—only Yalan’s presence might make it seem legitimate. To Hong Yi, it was probably just another risk. And not a good one at that.
After a moment, the man exhaled. "I need time to think about it."
Chen Ren had expected it. No one in their right mind, and had such risk and powers would be convinced that easily.
He nodded before pausing as another idea came to his mind. “How about this? In two days, come back here, and I’ll show you why you should join my sect. Bring your puppet too—I’d love to see it."
Hong Yi hesitated before finally nodding, though it was clear he was simply agreeing due to fear of dying.
Yalan, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke, her voice calm yet carrying an unmistakable weight.
"And don’t try to run away," she said.
Hong Yi flinched.
"We’re not going to contact your former sect or anything. If we wanted to do that, we wouldn’t be letting you go right now." Her eyes narrowed. "But if you do try to run, just know that tracking you down would be easy for me."
Hong Yi swallowed hard. "I won’t, Master—"
Yalan cut him off. "Yalan."
"...Thank you, Master Yalan," he said quickly, bowing. "Thank you for not killing me."
Then, without another word, he hurried away.
Chen Ren watched Hong Yi disappear through the door, then chuckled. "That's a strange way of saying goodbye."
Yalan turned to him, unimpressed. "Are you really planning to pick a fight with an Established sect? They won’t let go of the inheritance so easily."
Chen Ren’s amusement faded as he met her gaze. He knew she was right.
As a sect master, he needed to choose his battles wisely. A single misstep, and his sect could be crushed before it even had the chance to grow. But at the same time, he wasn’t someone who turned away from an opportunity just because it was risky—especially not when it had come knocking on his door without him even searching for it.
Still, caution was necessary.
"I need to understand the man more first," Chen Ren said. "I’m not planning on starting a war with a sect. But I do want him in the sect. Puppet Masters are rare, and having that kind of power in our ranks would help solve a lot of our combat power issues."
He crossed his arms. "That being said, I’ll only recruit him if I can make sure his former sect won’t come after us. That’s why I gave him two days. I need to understand his situation better before making a move."
Yalan studied him for a moment before shrugging. "Whatever. At least we’ve found one more good prospect for the sect. Let’s hope there are more."
Chen Ren smirked. "Let’s see."
The rest of the day, they continued their search, but it was fruitless.
They didn’t find anyone worth taking in—neither mortals nor cultivators. Some had potential, but their mindsets or circumstances weren’t a good fit for the sect. Others simply lacked talent or drive.
Still, Chen Ren didn’t lose hope. There were plenty of people left to evaluate, and with time, he was confident they’d find more promising individuals.
For now, they decided to resume the tests and interviews tomorrow.
***
Although the same problems persisted the next day—people lacking even basic literacy, some showing no real ambition for growth—Chen Ren managed to find a few individuals who seemed like they would genuinely stick with the sect. They weren’t necessarily the strongest or the smartest, but they had something else: determination. And in the long run, that was more valuable than raw talent alone.
But the real surprise came toward the end of the day.
Among the last few villagers he tested was a young man—just eighteen years old, with the rough hands and sun-darkened skin of a farmer. His name was Luo Heng, and up until this moment, he had lived his entire life believing that his fate was tied to the soil beneath his feet. He had never once imagined himself as a cultivator.
Yet, when Chen Ren examined him, he found that the boy had nineteen spirit roots. A far cry from the prodigies of great sects, but to Chen Ren, who was building a foundation from nothing, it was still potential. And potential was worth nurturing.
The moment Luo Heng realized what this meant, his entire face lit up in awe and disbelief. “I… I can cultivate?” he asked, almost afraid to believe it.
Chen Ren smiled. “You tell me. Do you want to cultivate?”
“Yes! Yes, I do!” Luo Heng said immediately, his voice shaking with excitement.
Even if the boy wasn’t literate, even if he lacked any prior training, enthusiasm like that couldn’t be ignored with his spirit roots. Chen Ren decided to take him in.
With that, recruitment was finally complete.
Chen Ren wasted no time in spreading the news. He sent word through the Chief Muyang, announcing the names of those who had been accepted. Some would serve in different capacities within the sect, but all of them were now part of it.
And the very next day, he gathered them all for their initiation ceremony—not just to welcome them, but to teach them something far more important.
A lesson that most sects ignored.
A lesson about the Dao—and why their sect would not focus solely on martial strength alone.
