Dao of Money

Chen Ren knew that he was somehow tied up in a conspiracy far above his pay grade. It wasn’t something he liked to dwell on—knowing he was missing crucial pieces of the puzzle only frustrated him—but the truth had been clear for a long time. A dragon lived in his star space.

No one in history had ever carried a dragon in their star space and lived a simple merchant’s life. That just wasn’t how the world worked.

Despite that knowledge, he had stubbornly clung to his chosen path. He built his businesses, trained when he could, and tried to carve out a future where, if trouble ever came knocking, he’d be strong enough to handle it. But now, he thought grimly, it seems like the time has come to stop pretending.

The book lay spawled on the floor in front of him, standing out among the others Qing He had gathered. Just looking at it sent a shiver of unease down his spine. The cover was unlike anything he had ever seen—old, yet pristine, as if untouched by time. The dark leather was embossed with different designs, and at the center, surrounded by the four sacred beasts—the white tiger, the black turtle, the crimson phoenix, and, of course, in the middle was the golden dragon coiled in a spiral, its head raised as if it were staring straight into his soul. It reminded him of the actual dragon he’d seen in his star space.

His fingers hovered over the cover before he slowly picked it up. It was heavier than expected, the kind of weight that made him feel like he was holding more than just a book.

Taking a steadying breath, he opened it.

His eyes scanned the first few lines, expecting something that would shake his world. Instead, his brows furrowed in confusion. He blinked, rereading the words, but he knew he couldn’t.

"I can’t read this," he said finally, glancing at Qing He.

Before he could react, she plucked the book from his hands, flipping through the pages with a sharp snap of her fingers. "If it were that easy to decipher, I wouldn’t have been able to get my hands on it in the first place. Do you know how many dusty old coots in my sect would sell their souls to study this?" She tapped a page. "The only reason they let me keep it is because no one understands Ancient Immortal script, the language it’s written in. Even I could only make sense of parts of it, and that was after hours of painstakingly translating every single word."

Chen Ren mulled over Qing He’s word, his mind catching on one detail in particular—her sect. She had never once let anything slip about her background before. Not even a hint. Yet now, she had practically confirmed it. She did belong to a sect.

But which one?

That, he would have to find out in time.

For now, he kept his attention on the book still in her grasp. His eyes shifted to the cover again before he asked, “Ancient Immortal script? What’s that?”

Qing He’s gaze lingered on him for a second before she spoke. “It’s ancient like its name. We call it the Language of the Old. From the Era of the Ancients. Even among top cultivators, it’s not something widely known—unless they’re deeply invested in history.”

She flipped through the pages idly, then added, “I found this book in an old tomb, buried near the lair of a Tier 5 beast.”

Chen Ren arched a brow. “And you can read it?”

Qing He smirked. “Parts of it.”

Then, as if realizing how much she’d revealed, she snapped, “Do you even want to know what’s inside the book or not?”

Chen Ren met her gaze steadily. “Yeah. I do.”

She studied him for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”

Flipping back to the first page, she ran a finger over the faded ink. “This book is an account from the Era of the Ancients, a time when the world was ruled by four primary sects. There were no empires, no kingdoms—just those four, each one tied to one of the Heavenly Beasts.”

She began listing them out.

“The Sect of the Crimson Phoenix—the heart of alchemists and blacksmiths. They harnessed the flames of the beast they worshipped, refining artifacts and pills unlike anything seen in our time.

“The Sect of the White Tiger—a brotherhood of warriors. Martial cultivators of the highest order, acting as the protectors of the world.

“The Sect of the Black Tortoise—masters of restoration and healing, wielding techniques that could mend not only the body, but the very land itself.”

Then she paused.

Chen Ren caught the hesitation immediately. “What about the golden dragon?”

Qing He exhaled, glancing back down at the book. “That… is harder to say.”

She tapped a passage thoughtfully. “The book describes it as the sect that ruled over all the others. It didn’t just govern—it oversaw prosperity itself.”

At that, Chen Ren tilted his head. Prosperity?

Was that a metaphor, or something else entirely?

Did it mean the Golden Dragon Sect was simply a prosperous governing body for the other three sects? Or was there a deeper meaning behind it?

A thought crossed his mind, and he asked, “Is there any mention of it being focused on wealth? Money?”

Qing He immediately shook her head. “No. The character for prosperity in Ancient Immortal script is entirely different from the one used for wealth or trade. There’s no connection.”

She sighed, flipping a page. “Let me continue.”

Both Chen Ren and Feiyu, who had been quietly listening this whole time, nodded.

“The four sects were rivals, yet they functioned within the same system, supporting one another,” Qing He explained. “It was an era of opportunity and peace. Back then, spirit manifestations were as common as rice. Nearly every cultivator had one, and the Heavenly Beasts themselves frequently revealed their presence in the world.”

Chen Ren’s brows furrowed. Spirit manifestations as common as rice?

Qing He continued, “And from the way this book describes it, the average cultivator back then was much stronger than the ones today. But in the end, all of it… changed.”

Chen Ren caught onto the shift in her tone. His mind immediately jumped to something Yalan had once mentioned—a calamity that changed everything.

His throat felt dry as he asked, “Changed? Did something happen that ended the Era of the Ancients?”

Qing He’s eyes flickered to something Chen Ren couldn’t point exactly. “The book doesn’t go into details, but something forced the sects to come together. Every cultivator in the world was called upon to deal with it.”

She took a breath, her fingers tightening around the book’s cover. “And with that… a war erupted.”

Chen Ren’s eyes narrowed.

“It says that during this war, tens of thousands died every single day. And it lasted for months.”

For months? Tens of thousands dead every day? That sentence alone brought a grave silence that stretched between them.

Then, Feiyu, who had remained quiet until now, spoke up. “What were they fighting against?”

Qing He let out a slow exhale. “The book calls them Devourers.”

Chen Ren felt an uneasy chill crawl up his spine at the name. “Devourers?”

Qing He nodded. “There’s no information on where they came from or whatexactly happened. Not even a description of what they looked like.” She hesitated, then added, “For all we know… they could have been giant bugs.”

Chen Ren shuddered.

Giant humanoid bugs… that could stand against every cultivator in the world?

No amount of coin would help him with that.

Seeing the look on his face, Qing He chuckled. “Relax. I wasn’t being serious. Like I said, we don’t know what they looked like.” She tapped a finger against the book. “All we know is that they destroyed everything.”

Chen Ren’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Everything?”

“The war left no clear victors.” Qing He’s expression darkened. “There’s no mention of who won or how it ended. Just that civilization collapsed, and the Heavenly Beasts disappeared—leaving their sects buried in the ground.”

She sighed. “I’d assume the Devourers were either defeated or driven away, or we wouldn’t be ignorant of them today. But even though humanity survived, the structure of the world was completely crushed.”

Chen Ren’s mind raced.

The Era of the Ancients—gone. Their sects, once the ruling force of the world—buried. The Heavenly Beasts—vanished. All of it felt more like a story than what had actually happened, but a part of him knew it was true. Maybe there were parts the book was missing, but it helped give him a general sense of what had transpired.

Qing He turned another page. “The book briefly details the rise of a few small civilizations after the war… but none of them lasted. Most cultivators had died. Without them, society crumbled.” She frowned. “There’s no mention of the Kalian Empire, which I’m guessing came much later. In fact, this book might have been written during that transitional period.” She tapped the page agains. “But one thing it does say is that the Heavenly Beasts were so injured, they had to hide—to heal themselves in case another threat ever came to the world.”

At that, Qing He finally stopped speaking, letting the weight of the words settle between them.

Chen Ren exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening slightly.

A lost civilization wasn’t surprising. Even on Earth, there had been ancient societies that disappeared—the Aztecs, the Indus Valley civilization.

But an entire world built around worshiping the Heavenly Beasts?

That was different.

His mind spun as he pieced things together. If Qing He’s information was correct, the Heavenly Beasts had been damaged in the war, needing thousands of years to recover.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

But the dragon he met…

It didn’t look injured in any way.

So… had it already recovered?

And if so—what was its purpose now?

Had it chosen him to rebuild the civilization that had once been lost? Or was it something else entirely?

As Chen Ren pieced everything together, an extremely terrifying possibility formed in his mind. His heart thumped harder as he glanced at Qing He.

“Do you think… the golden dragon is back because it believes the devourers will return soon?”

Qing He’s fingers stilled against the ancient pages.

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Her face seemed more serious under the lanterns that casted heavy shadows, but he could see it—the same thought had already crossed her mind.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “It could be. But it could also be that it’s just… healed.”

Chen Ren scoffed. “I doubt it.” His arms crossed, brows furrowed. “That goes against cultivation logic.”

Qing He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know your ‘logic.’ All we have are possibilities right now.”

That was true.

He exhaled sharply, nodding. He understood her point, but the frown on his face remained.

Learning about an ancient civilization connected to the Heavenly Beasts and their destruction gave him context—but in the end, it wasn’t something he could act on.

Not yet.

Not until he spoke to the dragon again.

But that was another problem. He hadn’t seen it since that encounter in the tournament. He could only hope it would appear again—perhaps once he broke through further in qi refinement and became stronger.

His fingers tapped against the table, mind whirling, but eventually, he turned his gaze back to Qing He and inclined his head.

“…Thank you,” he said. “For finding more information about the golden dragon for me.”

Qing He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine.”

He smirked slightly, then leaned back against the wall. “That said, I think the best thing I can do is just—get stronger. Prepare for what’s coming.”

At that, Qing He nodded. “That’s a good way to go.”

Chen Ren’s lips curled into a small grin. “Glad we agree. Speaking of that… I wanted to ask for your help with a weapon.”

Qing He blinked. “A weapon?”

Chen Ren nodded. He glanced toward Feiyu, who silently pulled out a tightly rolled parchment and placed it before Qing He.

She picked it up, unrolling it carefully.

She went through everything in a single swoop of her glance—detailed schematics, exact measurements, notes written in a mixture of his own script and symbols meant for easier understanding.

For the next five minutes, Qing He said nothing.

She simply studied it.

Her eyes flickered over every detail, scanning the blueprint with intense focus.

And for the first time, Chen Ren saw it—

A spark of genuine surprise on her face.

Finally, she placed the parchment down and met his gaze.

“I’ve never seen a weapon like this.” Her fingers tapped lightly against the paper. “Making the body might be simple enough… but I’m guessing what you really need my help with is this—” She pointed at the description of a powder.

Chen Ren grinned. “You’re smart.” His hand came up, rubbing his temple with a sigh. "The problem is," he admitted, "I know the components of the gun and exactly how to make it. But the powder... that's where things get tricky." His brow furrowed. "I barely remember the formula. I need someone experienced in alchemy—like you—to create a replacement."

Qing He tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Alchemists aren’t usually known for making explosive pills. Their focus is more on enhancing the body, healing, or refining qi."

"Yeah, I figured that much after going through the books you gave me." He exhaled, drumming his fingers on the table. "But I was hoping there was an exception to that rule. Is there no alchemist you know who could help us?"

As he hoped, Qing He’s eyes suddenly lit up, a ghost of a smile played on her lips.

“Well," she said, "I can think of one alchemist who was very interested in making explosions out of pills."

Chen Ren straightened. "Who?"

Instead of answering immediately, Qing He stood and walked over to a shelf, rummaging through a small pile of old, leather-bound books. She pulled one free, dusting it off before setting it on the table in front of him.

"This one."

Chen Ren glanced down at the cover.

An Idiot Cultivator’s Guide to Blowing Himself Up – Volume 1 by Yandi.

A long pause ensued between them. Chen Ren blinked, unable to hide his surprise, shock and confusion at the title of the book.

"...What?"

Qing He smirked. “You should read it first.”

Chen Ren gingerly picked up the book, turning it over in his hands. "Who wrote this? And why does the title sound so—" He struggled for the right word. "—unhinged?"

Qing He crossed her arms. "A short-lived cultivator who only reached the peak of qi refinement realm before dying while testing what he called the All-Consuming Explosion Pill." She shook her head. "Ironically, it consumed him."

Chen Ren let out a low whistle. "I guess he knew what he was getting into."

"He lived around two hundred years ago," Qing He continued. "Got kicked out of his sect for blowing up too many buildings while experimenting with explosions. But he became famous for his series on explosive pills, which are now considered treasures."

Chen Ren exhaled through his nose, a dry smirk curling on his lips. "Yeah, I can definitely imagine some lunatic cultivator with an anarchist streak running around, throwing bombs like a madman. That’s... honestly terrifying."

Qing He nodded in agreement.

He flipped through a few pages of the book, scanning the chaotic notes and diagrams. "How many of these books did he write?"

Qing He shrugged. "I don’t know. The first volume has a few copies floating around, but the second and third are much harder to find. There are rumors of a fourth, but nothing confirmed. I only managed to get my hands on the first volume thanks to some contacts I have."

"Figures," Chen Ren muttered. "Explosive pills aren't exactly standard market fare."

"Right," Qing He agreed. "But this guy was known for using pills exclusively for battle and destruction. If we’re looking for a substitute for your black powder, I’m pretty sure his work will help us."

Chen Ren grinned. "That would be great. We can go over his work, and I’ll try to piece together what I remember about different types of guns and gunpowder."

For the first time since the discussion started, Feiyu, who had been completely silent, suddenly spoke up.

"...There’s more than one type?"

Both Qing He and Chen Ren turned to look at him.

Chen Ren smirked. "Oh, Feiyu, you have no idea. You can make a lot of different types," he said, glancing at him. "Simpler guns, deadlier ones like rifles, and even long-range weapons like snipers."

Feiyu nodded in curiosity before a frown covered his face. Chen Ren couldn’t tell if the man was happy that there were so many other types or was unhappy that it could only get complicated from here. But it didn’t matter.

"Then if you do start this, I’m guessing it’s going to be a long project." Qing He asked, bringing him back into the conversation.

Chen Ren nodded without hesitation. "Yeah. I plan to arm everyone in my sect with these things. Even mortals can use them."

"That’s a dangerous undertaking." She crossed her arms. "If these weapons are really strong, then even the guardian sects might take interest. And trust me—the current order of the empire might collapse if mortals get that kind of power."

Chen Ren’s gaze was steady. "I do understand that," he admitted. "And I don’t plan to sell them." He exhaled. "But right now, with so even with a few cultivators, my sect is grossly weak. I need to do something about it. If sects come for it, then I’ll deal with that when it happens." His fingers clenched into a fist. "If we actually pull this off and get more mortals into the sect, I’m pretty sure we’d be strong enough to not get crushed—even by a guardian sect."

Qing He shook her head. Chen Ren caught the smile that played in her face. "You and your ambitions." She sighed. "Just make sure you don’t slip up. You’d fall headfirst if you do."

Chen Ren smirked. "I’ll try not to." His gaze softened slightly as he looked at her. "So... are you willing to help me with it?"

Qing He didn’t answer immediately. She drummed her fingers on her robs, staring at the book in thought. "...That would mean leaving my shop here." Her lips quirked into a half-smile. "I think I said the same thing last time when you asked me to come to that little village where your sect is. The answer is the same."

Chen Ren shrugged. "It’s temporary this time. Once we figure out the gunpowder, I don’t think you’ll be needed much after that." He leaned forward. "Besides, I have something I can trade you for your help."

Qing He narrowed her eyes. "Oh? And what would that be?"

"How would you like recipes for different types of tea?"

***

A/N - You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon. Annual subscription is now on too.

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