Dao of Money

As they walked, Chen Ren slowly realized the place was much larger than he had anticipated.

The narrow stone corridors opened up to wider halls, cracked but still standing after who knew how many decades. He spotted the remains of broken pottery, decayed wooden racks, and shattered tiles—signs of life that had once filled these ruins long ago.

Unable to hide his curiosity any longer, he glanced sideways at Anji. “This… looks a lot bigger than just a simple sect vault.”

Anji nodded. She had no reason to hide the truth from him now. “It was more than a vault. Like I said, cultivators used to live here. Back then, before the Kalian Empire expanded this far, the Void Blade Sect ruled these lands. Them, and a few others that didn’t survive the passage of time.”

She paused, stepping carefully over a fallen beam. “This was one of their outposts. A small one—but important enough to fortify. Library, training grounds, food storage, barracks... everything a cultivator force needed to sustain itself away from their main sect grounds. When the sect got assimilated in the empire, they didn’t destroy it—they turned it into a vault to protect what was left.”

Chen Ren nodded thoughtfully, his mind immediately drifting toward the one thing that mattered most. “The library... Is it still intact?”

Anji smiled faintly. “It should be. That’s where you’ll find the manuals. Once we secure the inheritance, I can help you locate it. It should be near the vault.”

Chen Ren’s fingers unconsciously tightened into a fist before he relaxed them. Just the thought of it—the knowledge stored there—was enough to make his heart beat faster. That library alone could fulfill the vows he had made to his sect.

The conversation drifted into silence after that, each of them focusing on the path ahead. Chen Ren kept his gaze low, following the trail of footsteps left in the dust. A small reassurance that they were still on the right path.

Voices. Low, but distinct. Coming from just ahead.

Anji must have caught it too because she stiffened beside him. Without a word, they moved faster, sticking to the shadows until the narrow corridor finally opened up into a wide room.

They slipped behind a broken stone pillar, Chen Ren carefully peeking around its edge.

The room was large—wide enough to house dozens. Beds, or what remained of them, were scattered across the floor. Some lay in splinters, others rotted beyond recognition. This must have been the quarters Anji had mentioned. A place for the outpost's cultivators to rest.

But he didn’t waste much time on the scenery. His focus snapped to the two figures standing inside.

The first was a young woman, short and wiry, with a slim build that looked made for speed. Her arms and legs were lean, packed with tight muscle. She wore light leather armor that clung close to her body, probably allowing easy movement. A short sword hung at her hip alongside a bow on her back, and her brown hair was tied back tightly, keeping it out of her sharp, narrow face.

The second was a large, bald, with no facial hair and no eyebrows, broad-shouldered man, thick with heavy muscle. His arms were bulky, covered in old scars, and he carried a massive hammer slung over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. His chest and shoulders were wrapped in thick, reinforced armor, giving him a hulking, almost wall-like appearance. His movements were slower, heavier, but full of raw strength, like a beast ready to crush anything that got too close.

Chen Ren’s eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed the faint gleam of rings on the man’s fingers. A spatial ring. That explained how he had carried such a heavy weapon through the narrow halls.

Fortunately, neither of them had bothered to suppress their qi.

It leaked off their bodies in faint, steady waves—enough for Chen Ren to judge their strength. Early-star qi refinement realm, both of them. Exactly as he had hoped.

He focused harder, trying to peer deeper into the structure of their energy. Both of them had fire-aspected qi—which wasn’t surprising, given their sect—but he couldn’t tell if they had a secondary aspect. His qi perception wasn’t good enough to be sure.

Still, it didn’t matter. They were strong—but manageable.

His mind began to race, mapping out possibilities. The puppet, though sturdy, was only at the body forging realm. It wouldn’t last long in a direct clash, but it could serve as a distraction.

The real problem was their synergy.

Even without watching them fight, Chen Ren could tell—their roles were well-matched. The man would charge and pin the enemy down, drawing attention with sheer brute force, while the girl moved swiftly around the edges, striking precise, lethal blows when the enemy’s guard dropped.

A classic hammer-and-needle tactic. If he wasn’t careful, he could be overwhelmed before he even realized it.

Chen Ren exhaled slowly, feeling the tension settle into his limbs. He had an opening. But whether he could turn it into a victory would depend entirely on how he moved next. If he wanted to win, there was only one real path forward—finish one of them quickly, then take on the other alone.

But how?

Chen Ren’s mind raced, thinking risks, angles, timings. He was on a clock—the woman was already scouring the room, searching through the debris, while the hammer-wielding man guarded her, sharp-eyed. Sooner or later, she would finish checking the room, and they would move on. His window was closing fast.

As he crouched behind the pillar, his gaze swept the room—and an idea formed. The walls.

They were the same dark, glossy material he had seen at the vault’s entrance. Stone that held runic arrays well. If he could draw the right formation, maybe… just maybe… he could trap one of them, even for a few seconds.

And that was all he needed.

Heart steadying, Chen Ren leaned toward Anji, whispering his plan into her ear. Her only question was simple, direct.

“Do you think it’ll hold one of them?”

Chen Ren nodded. “Long enough. A few seconds of confusion and panic—that’s all I need to strike.”

Anji didn’t argue. She nodded once, understanding the risk but trusting him, and slid further back behind the pillar to stay out of sight.

Chen Ren wasted no more time.

Moving low and silent, he slipped toward the nearest wall. His fingers pulled out a small piece of chalk, worn down from past use. Quickly, efficiently, he began sketching the runes, the chalk scraping lightly against the dark stone.

Fortunately, the array he was attempting wasn’t unfamiliar. He had practiced it once—long ago. A simple but vicious snare formation designed for binding someone. He had memorized every rune, every intersection, precisely for the day he might need it.

Circles and triangles, interwoven in patterns, began to take shape beneath his hands. He cast a glance over his shoulder every few strokes. The two cultivators hadn’t noticed him yet. No torches had been lit here in this part—working in his favor.

Silently, he took a few steps back and shifted to the opposite wall and began the second half of the formation. His hands were steady, but his heartbeat was a drumbeat in his ears.

He finished the chalkwork within minutes, but he knew it wasn’t enough. The runes needed to be properly etched into the stone to carry enough power to trigger. The hard part.

Drawing in a deep breath, Chen Ren pulled out a small chisel and a hammer from his belt. He set the chisel carefully against the chalked lines and began tapping—soft, deliberate taps that barely made a whisper.

Every second he spent here, the danger grew. One wrong noise, one glance in his direction, and everything would fall apart. And he could hear his heart beat in his ears, but he couldn’t let the anxiety roll.

He focused, letting the rhythm of his work drown out the pounding in his chest.

Fortunately, among the runes he had chosen for the formation, there were several that dampened sound during the engraving process—a precaution that now paid off immensely.

Still, Chen Ren couldn’t shake the paranoia curling at the back of his mind. Every few seconds, he glanced up, careful to ensure he hadn’t been spotted.

And minutes flew by. Thankfully, luck was with him.

Both cultivators were distracted, flipping through a dusty old book they had pulled from a broken shelf, their attention absorbed by the faded pages.

Slowly, painstakingly, Chen Ren finished carving the last lines of the array into the second wall. Once the final rune was set, he stepped back, running a practiced eye over the work. Solid. It would hold.

He took a long, slow breath, letting the tension bleed from his shoulders, and turned toward Anji. Catching her eye, he made a quick hand signal.

Ready.

Anji nodded from behind her pillar, crouching lower into the shadows.

Now comes the real gamble.

Chen Ren drew back further, hiding himself behind the thick stone, but with a clear view into the open room. Quietly, he sent a mental command to the puppet hidden nearby.

Hong Yi had reworked the programming of the puppets before they left, ensuring they could listen to Chen Ren's commands even without Hong Yi's direct control.

The puppet that was stocky with a worn metal frame, stirred to life. Its eyes glowed faintly as it turned its head toward the open chamber—and without hesitation, it lumbered forward.

Heavy, echoing footsteps filled the chamber, drawing the attention of the two cultivators instantly.

“What’s that?” the burly man muttered, shifting his hammer into a ready grip as he narrowed his eyes at the approaching figure.

The puppet came to a halt just inside the room, standing there in eerie stillness.

The girl, still holding the book, frowned. “Is it one of the old guards that’s supposed to protect this place?”

“We’ve been here a while and nothing's come out till now,” the man said, his voice cautious but dismissive. “Probably faulty. Must’ve finally woken up after lying dead for years.”

She eyed the puppet critically. “It doesn’t look strong... and it’s not attacking.” Her lips curled into a smirk. “Lost its functions, probably. Let me get closer. I’ll check it out.”

She stepped forward, casual and unhurried, lowering her guard without even realizing it.

Exactly as Chen Ren had hoped.

He steadied himself, feeling the faint thrumming of qi building in the array carved into the walls around the room—silent and invisible, and ready. All he needed now... was the right moment.

And it was coming fast.

As the scout girl stepped closer to the puppet, her caution giving way to curiosity, Chen Ren silently gave the second command. The puppet jerked slightly, reaching behind its back. With one swift tug, it tore away the talisman affixed to its metal spine.

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The effect was immediate.

A burst of crackling lightning exploded outward, engulfing the girl in a cage of blinding arcs. She barely had time to scream—her body seized as the lightning wrapped around her like living chains, holding her trapped in mid-step, too close and too surprised to escape.

The burly man’s eyes widened in horror—and then filled with pure, burning rage.

“Jin Xue!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the chamber. “No! I’ll fucking kill you, bastard!”

With a savage bellow, he lifted his hammer and charged at the puppet, fury overriding any sense of caution.

Chen Ren gave another silent command.

The puppet turned and bolted, its heavy footsteps pounding against the stone as it fled, leading the man away from his fallen companion.

The burly man roared after it. “Don’t run, you piece of shit! I’ll smash you to pieces!”

He barreled forward, hammer raised high—blind, reckless. Perfect.

The moment the puppet crossed the invisible boundary Chen Ren had marked, he unleashed his qi into the walls.

The runes he had carefully carved earlier shimmered to life, burning with a deep blue glow as the Tier 2 [Binding Web] Array activated.

Threads of qi shot out from the walls, wrapping around the burly man before he could even realize what was happening. His body jerked to a halt, the hammer falling from his grip with a heavy thud.

“What the—?” he gasped, thrashing against the bindings—but the threads coiled tighter, locking him in place.

Chen Ren didn’t waste a second.

Lightning surged from his core, crackling along his arms. He shaped it mid-flight, manipulating the energy with precise control. Thin, needle-like spears formed within the arcs, buzzing with lethal power. A new technique he had learnt from Chen Ren's memories of his clan lightning manuals.

“[Needle Flash Technique!]”

With a sharp thrust of his hands, he sent them flying. The lightning spears struck the man’s body like a hailstorm, forcing him to his knees. His body convulsed under the barrage, the smell of scorched flesh filling the air.

But Chen Ren wasn’t done.

Before the threads could lose their grip, he tore open more talismans tucked into his belt. With a sudden rush of energy, dozens of extremely sharp stones materialized in the air around him—[Stone Lance Talismans], crafted for exactly this kind of assault.

He pointed forward.

The stones shot through the air like missiles, slamming into the burly man’s exposed flesh. Blood splattered across the broken floor as the man howled in agony, pinned down by a hundred tiny blades.

His screams echoed through the chamber—but Chen Ren didn’t flinch. He stepped forward, eyes cold, ready to end it. He watched the burly man bleed heavily, his body slumping, but he didn’t relax.

This wasn’t over.

Already, the cultivator was gritting his teeth, forcing his trembling hands to weave a gathering of qi. Wisps of flame began to snake around parts of his body, flickering with desperate life.

Chen Ren narrowed his eyes. No you don't.

His fingers brushed over the spatial ring hidden at his side. In a flash, a weapon materialized in his grip—a spear, the same one he had once seized from Yushu. Without hesitation, he spun and hurled it forward.

The spear whistled through the air and plunged deep into the cultivator’s chest, pinning him to the cracked stone floor. The man’s hammer slipped from his grasp with a dull thud.

Chen Ren didn’t waste a second. He extended his arm and felt another lightning surge, weaving it into a concentrated bolt and driving it straight into the wound. The man jerked once—then slumped.

The threads of the array binding him shimmered, then broke apart with a soft crackle as the formation finally collapsed. Still cautious, Chen Ren stepped forward, his body tense and ready to dodge.

He moved into the remains of the broken array, approaching the fallen figure. The man’s chest wasn’t rising.

Still, Chen Ren nudged the body over with the tip of his foot, revealing a lifeless face twisted in agony. Blood continued to pool beneath him. Dead.

Chen Ren exhaled slowly, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

But there was no time to savor the victory.

A scream tore through the air. "You killed Rong!"

Chen Ren spun around to see the scout girl—Jin Xue, if he remembered correctly—standing at the far end of the room. Twin short swords—not one, but two, flashed in her hands, now coated in flame as her qi burst forth in raw fury.

For a heartbeat, her gaze remained fixed on her fallen comrade. Only after a few moments did her bloodshot eyes snap to Chen Ren. There were no words. Just rage.

With a snarl, she lunged at him, her small frame moving faster than a striking viper, her blades trailing burning arcs through the air.

Chen Ren had expected this.

Already moving, he dodged her furious strikes with tight, controlled steps, channeling his [Starlight Defense technique] over his arms to absorb the heat of her attacks. The glowing shield of energy flickered under each glancing blow but held firm.

Chen Ren vaulted over her, rolling across the cracked floor and retreating further into the chamber—where he would have more space to maneuver.

Jin Xue followed, her attacks wild, her flames cutting swaths through the air. She wasn’t thinking—just striking, slashing, trying to burn him to ash.

And that was her mistake.

No good fighter lets fury take over.

Even after just a minute of exchanging blows, Chen Ren could tell—this girl wasn’t used to real battle. Her steps were heavy. Her strikes were predictable. And in her rage, she never noticed the thin layer of powder Chen Ren had spread across the stone floor when she wasn’t looking.

The moment she stepped into the trap, Chen Ren sent a flicker of qi outward. With a violent roar, flames erupted around her, engulfing her in an explosive wave.

She screamed, staggered by the sudden onslaught. Being a fire-aspected cultivator gave her some resistance—but talismanic flames weren’t something normal resistance could simply shrug off.

Her flesh burned, her clothes scorched, her movements faltered.

Chen Ren didn’t let up.

He hurled more [Stone Lance Talismans], sharp rocks slamming into her battered form, puncturing her armor and sending her reeling. And then, with a final surge of his qi, he unleashed a [Lightning Frenzy]—a barrage of crackling, furious energy that struck her in a relentless rhythm.

Flames, earth, and lightning. Three elements battering her at once.

Jin Xue’s body slammed into the far wall with a sickening crunch. She slid down, leaving a smear of blood behind, her body limp and unmoving. Chen Ren kept the lightning crackling around his hands, waiting—ready to strike again if she showed any sign of life.

Seconds passed.

A minute.

Two minutes.

Still nothing.

Finally, Chen Ren let the lightning fade, exhaustion hitting him like a crashing wave. He stumbled back, dropping to the ground, breathing hard.

Across the room, Jin Xue’s eyes—dull, unfocused—met his for the briefest moment before her head slumped forward, unconscious or dead, he couldn't yet tell.

But the fight was over. For now.

He waited for the guilt to come—the heavy, sinking feeling he thought any normal person from Earth would feel after taking a life.

After all, this wasn’t like killing a monster. These were people. Cultivators, yes, and enemies standing in his way, but not murderers or demonic beasts. There was no personal hatred between them. No blood feud. Only the unfortunate fact that they had been on opposite sides.

He thought back to Gu Tian—the first person he had personally killed in this world.

But Gu Tian had been different. A demonic cultivator, a serial killer, a man whose death felt more like cleaning filth from the world than anything else. When Gu Tian had fallen, Chen Ren hadn’t felt guilt. Only a grim satisfaction.

And now, with Jin Xue and Rong lying still in front of him, he expected something.

Regret, remorse, anything.

But there was nothing. Nothing pressing down on his heart. No tremble in his fingers. Only the steady, cold realization that they had tried to kill him—and he had killed them first.

Before he could dwell on it longer, footsteps echoed through the silent room.

Anji appeared from the shadows, her expression taut until she saw him standing there, unharmed. A soft sigh of relief escaped her lips. Then her gaze shifted to Jin Xue’s bloodied form, and the cold detachment in her eyes returned.

"I guess that's two of them," she said simply, voice devoid of emotion.

Chen Ren blinked once, shaking off the strange stupor that had settled over him. He nodded. "Yes."

He turned back toward the ruined room, scanning the scattered remnants of ancient life.

"Let’s check the area quickly," he said. "See if there’s anything useful. After that, we need to hurry back to Yalan and Hong Yi." He cleared his throat. "They’ll need our help... especially against the strongest of the enemies."

***

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