Dao of Money

The perks of being a sect leader were simple: people always listened to you. The downside? You never got time to rest.

As soon as the duel ended, Chen Ren wasted no time. Alongside Yalan, he emptied the contents of his spatial rings. The flood of treasures, weapons, scrolls, herbs, and artifacts filled not just one, but two entire rooms—and spilled over into a large portion of his workshop.

The look on Xiulan’s face was something Chen Ren doubted he would ever forget. She stared, frozen in wide-eyed horror, already exhausted at the sheer thought of organizing so much… only for Chen Ren to casually pull out yet another pile and add it to the growing mountain. It was funny in its own way, but he knew the work ahead was no joke.

For the sect’s safety, they couldn’t allow mortal servants to help. It wasn’t that Chen Ren distrusted them, but loose talk bred unwanted attention, and secrecy was essential. He had no doubt the Blazing Ember Sect was going to be on high alert, especially after discovering their prized sect vault had been stripped clean and their members dead.

Discretion was survival.

Worse, the sheer scale of the haul brought fresh complications. The artifacts needed to to be sorted—Dangerous ones separated, fragile ones sealed in preserving arrays, and the rest organized into secondary storage rings. He was already resigned to the fact that this task might take a week, perhaps even longer.

Yet despite the looming workload, Chen Ren was quietly thrilled. Ever since he’d glimpsed the Soaring Sword Sect’s treasury, he had longed for the chance to examine such a collection himself. Now, standing amidst the piles of rare cultivation artifacts, that dream was finally his reality.

But that could wait. First, he had to settle matters he’d left unfinished. He had taken in disciples, yet beyond nudging them toward their dao paths, he hadn’t done nearly enough for them.

Now, it was time to change that.

After spending an entire day sorting manuals and cultivation books—and finally managing a few hours of real sleep—Chen Ren sat cross-legged in his chamber. Before him stood Feiyu, Zi Wen, and Luo Feng, all wearing expressions of curiosity and confusion. The pile of books beside Chen Ren only deepened their curiosity.Hong Yi was absent, having already secured anything remotely related to puppet refinement in his own spatial ring and quietly excused himself.

Chen Ren’s gaze settled first on Feiyu, who, despite trying to hide it, looked utterly drained. His eyes had sunken, lips were dry and even his posture was shrunk. Long nights at the forge and constant tinkering with firearms had left him worn thin.

“Thank you for coming,” Chen Ren began. “I know I helped you escape your old life. But I’ve done little to push you further in your cultivation and smithing—”

Feiyu shook his head firmly. “You’ve done more than enough, Sect Leader Chen. I’ve already progressed far.”

Chen Ren gave a small, knowing smile. He was grateful. He’d always been grateful. “Not far enough. I want you to be the best. The best blacksmith in the entire empire.”

With that, he picked up a neat stack of thick, aged tomes and placed them into Feiyu’s arms. The sunken man staggered slightly under the weight, eyes widening as he read the titles.

“These are ancient smithing techniques and forging manuals. There’s also a book on rare and spiritual metals that might aid your craft.”

Feiyu flipped through the first few pages, a mix of excitement and worry flickering across his face. “This is… too much.”

“It’s exactly as much as it needs to be,” Chen Ren said with a warm smile. “If you want to meet my expectations.”

Feiyu bowed low, clutching the books with renewed resolve. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Chen Ren then turned to Zi Wen, who straightened under his gaze. “As for you, I gathered these.” He motioned to another small stack and handed it over. “Bestiaries.”

Zi Wen blinked. “Bestiaries?”

Chen Ren nodded. “I don’t have any books on the dao of taming, but these hold detailed information on spirit beasts. Habitats, traits, weaknesses. It will help you in your training. I heard you’ve been struggling with avian beasts.”

Zi Wen flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes… They always fly away before I can form a bond. If I try to force them down, their wings get damaged. They’re useless after that.”

“Then use knowledge, not brute strength,” Chen Ren advised. “Read, learn, and adapt. That’s how you’ll master the dao of taming.”

Zi Wen bowed deeply. “Understood, Sect Leader.”

He lastly turned to Luo Feng.

The young man sat with perfect posture, back straight, shoulders tense, and nervous energy radiating off him. His hands tightened slightly in his lap as Chen Ren pushed another small stack forward.

“These are earth-aspected cultivation manuals,” Chen Ren explained. “They’ll help you take your first steps on the path of cultivation.”

Luo Feng’s eyes widened slightly as Chen Ren continued. “I’ve also included two books on spiritual herbs and farming techniques. They’re low-grade and the information is very basic, but I thought they might still be of help.”

Luo Feng picked up the book on top, carefully flipping through the pages as if it were made of gold. His expression softened, and without hesitation, he slid off his cushion into a full kowtow. “Thank you, Sect Leader Chen.”

Chen Ren smiled faintly. “Study them all and choose the one that feels most compatible with you and your dao. Some are mortal-grade, but there are also a few earth-grade manuals mixed in.”

At that, all three disciples stiffened. Chen Ren didn’t miss the rapid flicker of shock passing across their faces. They had clearly assumed the books he’d handed out were nothing more than ordinary manuals. And now looked at them in a different light yet none of them dared to ask where such rare texts had come from. It was an unspoken understanding. They likely guessed the answer wouldn’t come even if they did ask.

Looting the treasury of another sect was not something that was ever going to leave my mouth, Chen Ren thought dryly.

“I’m also planning to establish a formal merit system soon,” Chen Ren continued, shifting the conversation forward. “And a proper library for the sect, where you’ll be able to access other techniques as you earn the right to study them. The collection will be… substantial.”

Zi Wen raised a hand hesitantly. “How will the merit system work, Sect Leader Chen?”

According to what Chen Ren knew, nearly every sect in the empire ran on a merit system. Disciples were expected to take on tasks or quests to earn points, which could then be exchanged for items, artifacts, or privileges. No one was rewarded simply for sitting around and cultivating. Even entry to higher floors of a sect’s library came with a cost. It was an effective system, and one Chen Ren had learned a great deal of from his memories and talks with Qing He.

But his own system would be different. It would be better.

He glanced at the trio of disciples, who waited quietly, their curiosity barely contained.

“The sect will grant every member a fixed number of points each month,” Chen Ren said. “Mortals only need to fulfill their daily responsibilities to earn them. Cultivators will receive theirs through consistent work on their dao and contributing to the sect.” He paused to let that sink in before continuing. “These points can be exchanged for coins, items made by our sect like alcohol or even perfumes, services from other cultivators, spirit stones, or even unique resources.”

Feiyu raised a hand. “Will these points be used to gain access to the library as well?”

Chen Ren shook his head. “No. The library will remain open to all, even mortals. Mortals, however, will be limited to books that expand general knowledge—history, geography, basic theory—but not cultivation manuals or techniques.”

He locked eyes with each of them in turn. “Cultivators may study any available technique, but they must first seek my permission. That way, I can track your progress and ensure you’re not practicing anything dangerous or defective. Beyond that, I’ll also be introducing regular classes.”

“What kind of classes, Sect Leader?” Luo Feng asked.

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Chen Ren smiled in return. “Like the introductory lessons you received when you joined the sect, but much broader and more frequent. Topics will cover everything from the daos to the things you’ve likely never even imagined.”

“I will personally conduct some of them,” he continued, “and when I cannot, I’ll prepare notes and appoint someone capable to take over. I’m aiming to make them weekly, at the very least.”

Zi Wen shifted uneasily. “Won’t that be dangerous, Sect Leader? Giving out knowledge so freely?”

Chen Ren’s eyes sharpened. “No. Locking knowledge behind barriers is what’s dangerous. Most sects treat learning as something you must claw your way toward, and I understand the caution—some techniques can harm the user. But the knowledge I intend to offer will be different. It will broaden your understanding of the world, not endanger your life.… It’s something that needs to spread as far as possible.”

The three disciples looked at each other, uncertain, until Zi Wen finally voiced the question lingering in all their minds. “What kind of knowledge, Sect Leader?”

Chen Ren gave a small, almost amused smile. “Have any of you heard the term science?”

All three shook their heads.

“It’s the study of the world around us,” Chen Ren explained patiently. “The understanding of things you interact with every day, even if you don’t know why they work. It covers everything—from the forging of metals, to the workings of the human body, to the mysteries of alchemy. It’s science. I’ll be teaching you what I can of it. There will even be classes on farming.”

At the mention of farming, Luo Feng visibly straightened, eyes brightening with interest. Chen Ren had passed him a few simple farming techniques in the past, and the man had applied them with surprising success. Even Feiyu and Zi Wen, normally more focused on cultivation and taming, leaned in with curiosity. By now, Chen Ren’s reputation as a man with knowledge far beyond his years was solid among them.

This had always been part of his plan.

He wanted more than just a sect. He wanted a foundation—one that would make both his mortal and cultivator followers stand above their peers. Where they lacked in cultivation manuals, he had already compensated. Now it was time to elevate their understanding, to push them closer to the standards of people from his original world.

If nurtured properly, especially in areas like finance and business, they could become a power of their own. A self-sustaining force. One day, they could run the sect without him, leaving Chen Ren to simply sit back and watch the profits flow. That had been the true, long-term reason for building a sect, not only for the resources and protection it brought, but to cultivate talent.

For over an hour, they continued to discuss. The merit system, how the lectures would be organized, who would supervise in Chen Ren’s absence, and how he planned to balance it all with his ever-growing network of businesses. The energy in the room shifted from confusion to excitement. They could sense that something very different, and very grand, was about to take shape.

But once the meeting finally ended and the disciples left, Chen Ren’s thoughts drifted to something far heavier.

The severed head.

Ever since they had obtained it, Chen Ren had debated whether to ask him the questions that bothered him. He had discussed it with Yalan just the night before. She had agreed with his caution—this kind of trust, with something so potentially dangerous, could easily become fatal. But so far, the head had proven itself neither deceitful nor unreasonable.

Still, Chen Ren had grown tired of walking in the dark ever since the fight with Gu Tian. The unanswered questions clawed at him; the medallion, the devourers, the ancient dragon locked in his star space. Was the medallion truly something of importance? Or had Gu Tian hunting for it been nothing more than a false alarm?

He needed answers.

With firm determination, Chen Ren rose and walked through the silent halls of the sect toward the private chamber he had assigned to the head. The time had come to confront the biggest mystery of his current life.

To finally lay bare the truth, or at least the next piece of it.

***

Chen Ren stared at Wang Jun resting calmly atop the pedestal before him. For a long moment, neither spoke.

Finally, Chen Ren broke the silence. “Does she need to be here?” he asked, glancing at Anji, who stood quietly by the wall.

The head’s ancient voice rasped out. “Yes. If you want my assistance, that mortal must remain. She is my disciple now, until I pass on what I know of soul cultivation. The last member of my sect.”

Anji blinked in surprise. “I can leave if it’s something private,” she offered respectfully.

“No,” Wang Jun replied firmly. “You will stay. If I tell you to remain, you will remain.”

Chen Ren exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why is he suddenly so possessive of Anji? he wondered. But there was little point arguing; he could only adapt.

He shifted his gaze to Yalan, who nodded slightly before turning to Anji. “I would appreciate it if you kept whatever is said here to yourself.”

Anji bowed her head. “You have my word.”

“Well.” With the tension slightly eased, Chen Ren stepped forward and looked the head squarely in the eye. “What I’m going to show you is something passed down in my family. For most of my life, I believed it was just an ordinary inheritance item. But recently, I’ve come to suspect it’s far more than that and since it’s at least hundreds of years old, I can’t find anyone who knows it’s purpose.”

The head’s tone grew more curious. “And you want me to see if I recognize it?”

Chen Ren nodded. “Yes. I want to know what it truly is. Its purpose… if any.”

Wang Jun chuckled dryly. “Is it a sword? Then its purpose is to kill.”

“No.” Chen Ren shook his head. “It’s a medallion.”

“A medallion?” the head mused aloud. “Then it may be a key to something. Go home and ask your family.”

“I can’t,” Chen Ren said simply. “I’m banished.”

At that, Wang Jun’s brow lifted ever so slightly, the faintest flicker of interest flashing across his expression. Clearly, he was interested in his past. But Chen Ren pressed on without giving him the chance to ask. “Either way, I doubt they know what it is. I will show you.”

Without another word, Chen Ren reached into his robes and carefully pulled out the medallion. Its surface caught the faint glow of the lanterns in the chamber, glinting in the dim light. He stepped forward and set it gently before the head.

The head stared at it intently, his aged features tightening as he squinted, studying every curve and marking with unsettling focus. The room felt unnaturally still as the seconds dragged on.

As the head examined it, Chen Ren spoke quietly, “Someone mentioned it might be connected to something called the Gate of Immortals.”

The effect was immediate.

The head froze. Slowly, impossibly, his golden eyes lifted to meet Chen Ren’s. A storm of emotions flickered through them—shock, disbelief, fear, and something close to awe. A subtle, crushing pressure radiated outward for the briefest heartbeat, enough that Chen Ren felt the air itself grow heavier.

Then the head spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, yet sharp enough that it could harm someone.

“You… you have a key to the Gate of Immortals?!”

***

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