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Dao of money Chapter 43
🕑 Added 2024-12-13 20:12:59 +0000 UTCOver the next few days, Chen Ren’s body healed with a speed that defied his expectations. The ache in his muscles faded, the faint stings of pain in his ribs dissipated, and soon, he felt stronger than he had before the battle. It was as if the ordeal had tempered his flesh, sharpening him like a blade pulled from the forge. He wasn't surprised knowing pills were a miraculous cure in this world, but knowing and seeing it firsthand was a different experience altogether.
The city, too, began to find its usual liveliness once again. The chaos of the demonic rhino attack—so named by the people for the monstrosities that had trampled through the streets—had subsided, leaving an uneasy atmosphere in its wake. Despite that, the sound of hammers striking wood and labourers’ voices filled the city as the wounds started to patch.
Rumours were as abundant as the dust kicked up by the repairs. Whispers of arrests carried on the wind, names of those dragged to the city guard station for interrogation multiplying with each passing day. Chen Ren learned that over half of these individuals were sent to the sect, destined to sit in the Purity Camber. A grimace tugged at his lips each time he thought of the chamber—a device designed to crush both body and spirit under its relentless pressure.
He could only offer a silent prayer for the poor souls subjected to it.
Despite the arrests, no news of the demonic cultivator’s capture emerged. The lack of resolution hung over the city like a storm that refused to break. Some proclaimed that the culprit had already been caught. Others speculated that he had fled, vanishing into the night like a shadow.
“Fools,” Qing He had scoffed over tea one afternoon. “If he’d been caught, the City Lord would’ve paraded him in the square by now, perhaps even staged a grand execution to reassure the masses. He might have just fled the city after the commotion he caused.”
Chen Ren nodded, though he disagreed with the notion that the demonic cultivator had fled.
Demonic cultivators were notorious for their madness, but their actions often carried a sinister purpose. Both he and Yalan believed that the perpetrator still lurked within the city, biding his time to complete whatever vile quest he pursued. It was scary—especially the feeling of uncertainty.
It clawed his insides, over and over—whenever he thought of the demonic cultivator, but he refused to let it unbalance him.
He got back into his routine, changing his training time to morning due to being wary of the demonic cultivator and focused on pushing his body and gaining mastery over his techniques every day.
His goals remained steadfast: wealth, stability, and a future unmarred by poverty. Whatever chaos lingered in the city, Chen Ren resolved that his ambitions would not fall victim to it.
He’d rather think about his businesses and how to grow them.
During all this, the City Lord's office rolled out the announcements and registration for the long-awaited tournament. Chen Ren guessed that Li Baolong was using the tournament as a way to distract the city from the gloom of the demonic cultivator attack. From the conversations he heard on every street, Chen Ren knew it was working.
The rewards of the tournament were displayed prominently—glistening spirit stones, gleaming weapons, rare herbs, and ancient technique manuals. The promises of fortune and fame worked their magic, sparking excitement among cultivators and commoners alike.
People spoke in animated tones about the tournament, their words filled with excitement. As he predicted, the city gates were busier than ever, welcoming travellers from nearby villages and towns, all eager to participate or watch the spectacle.
The influx of visitors brought more customers to his noodle stall, and Tang Xiulan had to work tirelessly to keep up with the demand. Even the perfume shop, now under Tang Yuqiu’s eye, saw a surge in business. It seemed young village women were particularly drawn to its offerings. And he wasn’t the one to complain.
“Do you know why the perfumes are selling so well lately?” Tang Yuqiu asked one afternoon, her lips curving in a knowing smile.
“Enlighten me,” Chen Ren replied, counting the day’s earnings.
“This time of year is considered auspicious for marriages. A nascent realm cultivator couple married at the end of summer centuries ago, and ever since, it’s become a tradition for weddings,” she explained. “The women are buying perfumes to stand out more, hoping to attract their destined partners.”
Chen Ren sighed, regret flashing in his eyes. “If I’d known, I could’ve started a clothing or jewelry business. The profit margins would’ve been massive.”
“You’re already doing well with the stall and the perfume shop,” Tang Yuqiu reminded him.
“Well, I’m not stopping there,” he said, though his mind raced, thinking about all the opportunities that lay ahead. He only needed to extend his hand to seize them. Especially with his new plan related to the upcoming tournament, which had been impossible to ignore with how loud people were getting about it.
Moreover, after spending a few solid minutes staring at the prize list, he made a decision—to enter it himself.
After all, what could go wrong, really?
***
“Are you sure you want to enter the tournament?” Yalan asked, trailing behind Chen Ren as he followed the crowd in front of him. “Once your name is registered, there’s no turning back.”
Chen Ren adjusted the sack on his shoulder, pausing to meet her gaze. “Yes, I’ve already told you why I’m entering.”
She nodded slowly. “For the plot of land and the spirit stones?”
“Not just that,” he replied and looked at her. “They’re offering weapons, technique manuals, herbs, and more. I don’t know if I’ll take first place—there will be plenty of strong competitors—but I’m confident I can make it to the top four. That’s all I need to secure the spirit stones for an official sect status.”
Yalan wiggled her tail aimlessly and continued her walk beside him. “And you think you can come in the top four?”
“I’ve thought this through. By the time the tournament ends, I’ll either be on the verge of breaking through to the qi refinement realm or maybe I’m already there. Besides, I have a few ideas I plan to test during the matches. If they work out, I’ll have an edge over the others.”
Yalan studied him for a moment, then sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Just don’t get yourself killed for spirit stones.”
Chen Ren chuckled, his grip tightening on the sack. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on dying anytime soon. I’ve got too much left to do.”
Chen Ren adjusted the sack on his shoulder once again while his eyes moved towards the crowd that had gathered in the streets. The city had become a melting pot of humanity, alive with travellers drawn by the promise of the tournament.
He noted their clothes, a mix of sturdy village garb and modestly refined attire, with an occasional flash of more affluent silks. Their expressions varied—some wide-eyed with wonder, others brimming with anticipation, and a few carrying the jaded look of seasoned wanderers.
Among the throng, he caught snippets of conversations, some laced with accents unfamiliar to his ears. It was clear the tournament had cast its net far and wide, drawing people from distant regions. The sheer size of the crowd made manoeuvering through the streets a challenge, and Chen Ren had to carefully sidestep a group of travellers gawking at a nearby herbal stall.
As he walked, his thoughts shifted to the implications of the crowd. This is bigger than I thought. The City Lord’s office really knows how to put on a show.
Soon, the imposing structure of the City Lord’s office stood right ahead of him. Unlike the streets, which were filled with commoners, the area around the office teemed with cultivators. Chen Ren’s sharp senses picked up on the subtle aura fluctuations in the air and the resolute gazes on display.
Most of them were body-forging realm cultivators, their cultivation levels no lower than the fifth star. Sprinkled among them were qi-refinement realm cultivators, though none seemed to have surpassed the second star. What caught Chen Ren’s attention most, however, was how young some of them looked. Many of them looked barely adult, some even appearing to have only recently stepped into their teenage years.
I didn't expect so many teenagers here. Although the tournament is only for early realm cultivators, I had no idea so many of them were there around Cloud Mist City, he thought to himself.
Chen Ren knew the unspoken rules of such events. While the tournament was open to body-forging and lower qi-refinement realm cultivators, those who had already climbed higher in the latter realm wouldn’t bother. Competing at this level would only tarnish their reputation, and most high-star qi-refinement cultivators were already members of sects. For those gathered here, the tournament was an opportunity.
Many of them are likely hoping to catch the eye of sect recruiters, especially those from the Soaring Sword Sect, Chen Ren thought, his lips curving into a faint smirk.
A good performance here could serve as a backdoor into a sect, bypassing the gruelling entrance examinations. Though, he was sure there were also quite a lot of people who were only after glory and rewards. Like him.
Lost in thought, he made his way through the crowd, eventually reaching the upper floors where the registration desks were set up. The air here buzzed with excitement but also quite… nervousness. Lines stretched long with eager and too-happy-to-be-here participants.
Chen Ren scanned the faces at the desks and immediately spotted a familiar figure.
Liu Wen, flanked by his usual colleagues, sat at the head of one of the lines. He looked as bored as ever, casually tossing a wooden token between his fingers as he processed registrations.
Chen Ren joined the line, his gaze sweeping over the cultivators around him. He couldn’t help but size them up, noting their postures, weapons, and subtle giveaways of their strength. Some exuded confidence, others carried the nervous energy of their first competition, and a few kept their expressions guarded, their intentions unreadable.
As he waited, he glanced again at Liu Wen. The man hadn’t noticed him yet, too engrossed in talking to the cultivators.
Let’s see how many of these people are real competition, he thought, sending a signal to Yalan while he bided his time.
Chen Ren stood casually in line, his sack of potatoes resting against his shoulder. Yalan perched on his other shoulder, her amber eyes gleaming with mischief. Despite her playful demeanour, she was quietly doing what she did best—analysing the crowd.
"That one," she whispered, her tail flicking toward a tall young man clad in leather armour. "Seventh star of body forging, but look at his stance. He favors his right side. Probably a lingering injury in his left leg."
Chen Ren nodded slightly, letting her observations sink in. "And the one with the spear?"
Yalan squinted, her sharp gaze scanning the young woman gripping the polished weapon. "First star of qi refinement. Decent aura control, but she’s gripping the spear too tightly. I don't think she has a lot of practice with it."
Her ability to gauge someone's strengths and weaknesses at a glance was uncanny, and Chen Ren felt a small swell of gratitude for her presence. Without her, he wouldn't know for sure who he needed to be at guard against.
He smirked, passing the time with her commentary until the line finally shuffled forward enough for him to step up to the counter. Liu Wen, seated behind the desk, looked up and immediately broke into a grin.
"Ah, Chen Ren! Didn’t think I’d see you here," Liu Wen said, his tone both friendly and surprised. His gaze drifted to Yalan for a moment before turning towards the sack on his shoulder. "And... what’s that?"
Chen Ren shifted the sack slightly. "Potatoes.”
Liu Wen blinked. "Potatoes? What for?" He asked. “And are you really entering the tournament?”
"I decided to enter after seeing the rewards for the tournament," Chen Ren said, setting the sack down with a soft thud. "As for these, I plan to do something with them and sell them during the event."
"Potatoes?" Liu Wen repeated, his brows furrowing. "You think people will buy them? I mean, your noodles are already a hit. Those would probably sell better."
Chen Ren chuckled, knowing where he was coming from. "I’m not just selling potatoes. You’ll see once you’re there. I don’t think it’ll disappoint you."
Liu Wen leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Yeah, I’m sure of it. I’m already a big fan of your noodles. Whatever dish you make out of those potatoes, I’ll be first in line."
With that, he reached under the counter and pulled out a registration form, sliding it across the table toward Chen Ren. "Here you go. Fill this out. The prizes and entry fees are listed at the bottom. Make sure to double-check everything."
Chen Ren picked up the form, his gaze flicking over the details. The structure was straightforward, with a steep entry fee of a hundred silver wen, which fortunately, he could pay without issue. Participants recommended by the Soaring Sword Sect or the City Lord's Office were exempt from the fee.
His mind worked quickly, already calculating the cost-benefit ratio of the entry fee compared to the rewards.
He skimmed through the tournament rules, noting that the event would consist of five rounds, starting with a chaotic battle royale, followed by increasingly intense one-on-one duels. The schedule was gruelling, with matches running sixteen hours a day so it could finish within the allocated time. The venue—a grand arena in the upper streets.
Then his eyes fell on the rewards, neatly outlined in a bold, eye-catching box:
—
The Grand Cloud Mist City Tournament: Tournament Rewards!
Top 8:
FIVE spirit stones
THREE pills
ONE weapon
Top 4:
TEN spirit stones
FIVE pills
Rare herbs for Alchemy
ONE weapon of choice (crafted by the Soaring Sword Sect’s blacksmith)
Runner up:
TWENTY-FIVE Spirit Stones
TEN Pills
Rare Herbs for Alchemy
ONE Cultivation Manual of Choice (from the Soaring Sword Sect)
Inner Disciple Status in Soaring Sword Sect
Winner:
FIFTY Spirit Stones
TWENTY Pills
Rare Herbs and Beast Essence
ONE Cultivation Manual of Choice
ONE Weapon of Choice (crafted by the Soaring Sword Sect’s blacksmith)
A Large Plot of Land (near a nearby village)
Core Elder Discipleship in Soaring Sword Sect
Chen Ren's lips curled into a small smile as he read the list. He sent a mental message to Yalan. “See? If I won, there’d be plenty of benefits.”
Yalan’s voice chimed back in his mind, dripping with doubt. “Do you really think you can win? There are lots of people stronger than you here.”
Chen Ren’s smile didn’t falter. “Maybe. But I’ve got plans. Reaching the top eight should be easy enough. Once I’m there, I can fight my way to the semifinals—maybe even the finals. And even if I don’t get the plot, those spirit stones will be more than enough to buy it.”
The feline spirit hummed thoughtfully. “You’re ambitious, I’ll give you that. But ambition without strength is just a fool’s dream.”
Chen Ren chuckled. “Good thing I plan on having both.”
Chen Ren moved to the counter, picked up the form, and began writing down his details. As he wrote, the hum of the crowd behind him suddenly quieted, replaced by a loud, arrogant voice.
"Hey! Get out of the way! The young master of the Cang Clan is here to register! Clear the path, or face the consequences!"
Chen Ren turned his head, his quill pausing mid-stroke. A scrawny man stood pointing a trembling finger at him, his expression twisted with self-importance. Behind him stood the supposed "young master"—a cultivator whose aura screamed peak body forging realm. His tailored outfit exuded wealth, and his long, flowing purple hair stood out from everyone within the vicinity.
Chen Ren’s brows arched slightly. Dye? Or some weird cultivation technique?
He knew that martial techniques could have those side effects and as a reason, cultivators often had a variety of coloured hair.
"Sorry," Chen Ren said calmly, turning back to his form. "I’m registering right now. If you want to register, you’ll need to wait at the back of the line like everyone else."
The atmosphere grew tense immediately.
Chen Ren saw Liu Wen’s gaze drop nervously to the desk as whispers rippled through the room. He looked back. The scrawny man looked stunned, his finger frozen mid-point. Then, his face turned beet red.
"Didn’t you hear me? The young master Cang Rui is here!" the servant barked. "Give him face, or you’ll regret it!"
Chen Ren, shifting his focus back on his form, replied evenly, "What can he do?"
Before the servant could respond, the young master strode forward. Hearing the loud thuds of footwork, Chen Ren looked up. Seems like the form will have to wait a little.
Cang Rui's eyes glinted dangerously as he sized Chen Ren up. His hands placed on his hips as if he was ready to launch into an attack.
"Are you doubting my ability to do something to you?" he asked, his voice reverberating through the room. "Who are you, even?"
"Chen Ren," he replied without any hesitation.
Cang Rui's narrowed eyes lit up with recognition in an instant. The young master's lips curled into a sneer. "Ah, Chen Ren. The one working with Tang Yuqiu in that little perfume business." His voice carried a dismissive tone. "I’ve heard of you—briefly. I never expected you’d be so brazen. If you’re trying to run a business, you should know better than to go against the interests of the major clans."
Chen Ren’s expression remained neutral as he straightened, folding his arms. "I’m not going against the Cang Clan. Or even you. I’m just pointing out that you simply need to wait in line for your turn to register, and if you can’t even understand such a common sense, I doubt you’ll amount to anything."
The words hit like a slap, the room falling deathly silent as every gaze locked on the young master. His aura flared, his face twisting in rage.
"You dare insult me?!" he snarled, his voice echoing through the chamber. "You won’t get out of here alive!"
Without warning, he lashed out, his fist surging forward with a burst of wind, the pressure sharp enough to rustle the papers on Liu Wen’s desk. The sheer force of the strike made the weaker cultivators in the room step back instinctively.
But Chen Ren didn’t flinch. His eyes locked onto the incoming punch, calmly stepping aside as the strike barely grazed his robes. The young master’s power wavered, the energy dissipating mid-strike as his overzealous attack faltered.
The room erupted in murmurs, astonishment flashing across the onlookers’ faces. Chen Ren’s calm composure contrasted sharply with the young master’s now-frustrated expression.
"Is that it? You’ll have to do better than that if you plan to keep your threats."
Cang Rui stared at his fist in disbelief, then glanced around the room. His entire face twisted into an ugly angry face as he barked, "What just happened? Why didn't my attack work?"
Chen Ren shook his head and looked around."There are arrays around here," he explained calmly. "This is the city lord’s office. They block any technique that uses even a bit of qi. You won't be able to fight here, no matter how hard you try."
That earned him another life-threatening glare from Cang Rui, his jaw tightening. "I don’t need qi to deal with someone like you!" he spat, taking a step forward.
Chen Ren raised an eyebrow, as he ‘tsked’ disappointedly.
"You really are an idiot, aren’t you? Do you realize where we are?" He gestured subtly around the room, the faint insignia of the city lord visible above the registration desk. "If you try anything here, it means you're openly disrespecting the city lord’s authority. The guards will come, and they won’t care who your clan is. They’ll drag you away in front of everyone. And with this audience..." Chen Ren tilted his head slightly toward the room full of amused onlookers. "Why sully your clan’s name for nothing?"
The young master froze, his gaze darting around. For the first time, he seemed to truly notice the growing crowd of spectators. Many of them were openly smirking or suppressing laughter. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he clenched his fists tightly. Finally, he jabbed a finger at Chen Ren.
"Fine," he snapped. "Meet me outside when you’re done. Let’s settle this properly!"
Chen Ren snickered, shaking his head. "No. Once again, you fail to grasp the situation. The city is crawling with guards due to the demonic cultivator attacks and the influx of travelers for the tournament. If you try anything outside, they'll intervene, and trust me, the consequences will be far worse than just a scolding here. You’ll be dragged away like a common thug."
He paused, letting his words sink in, then added with a touch of finality, "Don’t be so stupid. Go to the back of the line and wait your turn. Let me finish my registration in peace."
Without waiting for a response, Chen Ren turned back to his form, his quill gliding across the parchment as if the entire exchange had already been forgotten. From the corner of his eye, he saw the young master huff angrily and stomp to the back of the line, his servant trailing behind him. Cang Rui’s eyes, however, never left Chen Ren, glaring daggers at him the entire way.
Chen Ren smirked to himself, the corner of his lips curling.
Liu Wen leaned in slightly, whispering, "Do you really have to antagonize him? He’s not just some nobody. The Cang Clan is influential, and he’s rumored to be one of the prospective semi finalists this year. Unlike Bai Shen, he’s well-trained and has proper backing."
Chen Ren finished the last stroke of his name and set the quill down, his smirk widening. "I didn’t do anything. He got angry all on his own," he shrugged. "Besides, I don’t care about angering him. In fact, I’d say it’s better this way."
"Better?" Liu Wen blinked, confused. "Why?"
Chen Ren leaned slightly against the counter, his expression turning sly. "Because I needed someone like him for my plans," he said, his voice low but confident. "Influential, hot-blooded, dumb, and easy to manipulate. He’s perfect."
Liu Wen’s confusion deepened. "What kind of plans?"
Chen Ren chuckled, picking up his form and handing it over. "Let’s just say it’ll all make sense during the tournament. Like the potatoes—" he patted the sack slung over his shoulder—"you’ll see soon enough. I promise it won’t disappoint."
Liu Wen could only shake his head, muttering, "You’re either a genius or a madman."
Chen Ren grinned. "Why not both?"
Comments
EsZeus
Someone focused on money, and then entering martial tournaments... Find the fault yourself. Sometimes these stories are making no sense ^^ this decision and MC sometimes, too :)
Goof Nasty
He about to make French fries, for a snack while you watch the matches
Ahmad Azem
While I like face slapping there is a reason to avoid doing so, getting the wrong attention would hurt his business all it takes is one elder
Seth
Good chapter.
