rule one

Chapter 57

Chen Ren was able to get back to Cloud Mist City surprisingly fast. A part of him had wondered if the old elder might attempt to keep him as a disciple by any means necessary, but the man had been honourable.

Despite returning with a trove of rewards, Chen Ren couldn't seem to sit in peace. News of his recovery spread quickly, and within days, dozens of invitations from both merchant and cultivation clans flooded in, each seeking his presence as a guest. 

He rejected them all.

It wasn't that he didn't want to build connections—he did. But his mind was preoccupied with questions about his future and the reality of his recent battle with Gu Tian. On the other hand, his businesses were flourishing, especially after the tournament, yet it didn't feel like enough. 

The memory of that fight lingered, a constant reminder that his strength had been insufficient. He had survived, yes, but only because of the dragon that was within him. 

And even that power came with uncertainty. 

He had no means of calling on it at will, no assurance it would come to his aid again. Worse, he couldn't guarantee his body would survive the strain if it did. The thought left him restless.

There was only one path forward—he had to get stronger. 

His cultivation was intertwined with his businesses, so the decision was clear. It was time to look beyond Cloud Mist City. His heart raced at the prospect. Expanding both his sect and his business wasn't just a goal—it was a necessity. And it was exactly what he 

had to do next. 

"You're leaving?" Tang Jihao's voice rang with disbelief, his eyes widening.

Chen Ren nodded. "I've decided not to trouble the Tang Clan anymore."

At his words, Tang Yuqiu, who had been sitting nearby, interjected, "You know it's no trouble. A few months ago? Maybe. But now, a lot has changed. You staying here isn't just fine—it's a boon."

Chen Ren offered her a small smile. "I understand, but I stayed here because I had nowhere else to go. That's not the case anymore. I have responsibilities—both to my sect and my businesses—and Cloud Mist City is starting to feel too small for me."

Tang Jihao crossed his arms, studying him carefully. "Too small? How so?"

Chen Ren leaned back and sighed. "I've done well with my stalls and perfumes, and I could keep creating similar products, but the growth would be slow. Until now, I've focused on the mortal market here, and it's been successful. But I don't want to be confined to one city. I want to expand across the empire and for that…"

"And for that?" Jihao asked, though his expression suggested he already knew the answer.

"For that, I need to build a factory, diversify my products, and, most importantly, establish my sect. Cloud Mist City isn't the place for that. There's already Soaring Sword Sect here and there's no way I can take on it right now," he said, having already thought about it in the last few days. "If I try to make pills or talismans here to sell, I'd be directly competing with them and as you know, I can't take them on. I'd be crushed quickly. So, I need to look elsewhere in the empire—a place from which I can expand everywhere."

Yuqiu opened her mouth to argue, but her father spoke first. "Are you going to the land you got?"

Chen Ren nodded. "That doesn't mean I'm abandoning Cloud Mist City. I still have Heavenly Fragrances here, along with my stall. I'll have people to manage them, and I'll keep visiting to check on their progress. As you know, it's not that far from the city, so I'll be able to come and go easily. Especially with my cultivation, I'm far faster than any cart. But before I leave, I wanted to ask for something and talk more about the expansion plan."

Tang Jihao tilted his head. "What do you want to ask?"

Chen Ren smiled sheepishly. "Tang Xiulan and Lihua. Mostly Xiulan since I want to take her with me as the manager of the sect. And in her absence, Lihua has agreed to stay behind and take care of the stall."

The old, sickly man raised an eyebrow. "A manager, huh? That kid sure is talented, has a good head on her shoulders. When I first brought her to you, I didn't expect things to take such a turn. But I believe it's for the best." He paused, then nodded. "Sure, I'll let her go and give Lihua the freedom to manage your stall. You've helped Yuqiu a lot and killed that demonic cultivator. It's the least I can do. But this sect of yours? When you first told me about it, I was apprehensive. Honestly, I still am. I don't know how you're going to make it work."

Chen Ren smiled confidently, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "You'll know soon enough," he said, leaving Tang Jihao to shake his head in bemusement. Then, turning his attention to Tang Yuqiu, who wore a faint frown, he chuckled. "I thought you disliked me, but now you look sad about me leaving."

Tang Yuqiu's cheeks flushed faintly as she quickly looked away. "I'm not sad," she retorted, her tone defensive. "I'm just... too used to seeing your face around."

Chen Ren's grin widened. "Don't worry. You'll still see it—just less often."

He shifted topics seamlessly. "Either way, before I leave, I wanted to discuss the expansion plans for Heavenly Fragrances with you."

At that, Tang Yuqiu's expression shifted, her usual sharp focus returning. As Chen Ren laid out his plans—strategies to increase production, establish trade routes, and expand Heavenly Fragrances' influence beyond Cloud Mist City—her frown deepened, though this time with thoughtful consideration.

She leaned forward, asking sharp questions and offering occasional suggestions. By the time the conversation wrapped up, her earlier embarrassment had vanished, replaced by a serious, professional demeanour.

"That's ambitious," she said finally. "But with the right resources and people, it could work."

Chen Ren nodded, his confidence unwavering. "That's the plan. I'll leave the foundation in capable hands here and focus on building the next step."

Tang Jihao, who had been watching quietly, folded his arms with a smirk. "Looks like you've thought this through. I'll be keeping an eye on how far you can take it."

Chen Ren met his gaze with a smile. "You won't be disappointed."

***

Chen Ren moved through the quiet, somber halls, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished stone floor. The place where urns were kept—lingtang—was both imposing and serene, with corridors that seemed to stretch endlessly, lined with niches in the walls. Each compartment housed an urn, the final resting place for the ashes of someone who had once lived, laughed, and loved in the city.

A few others roamed the halls, their expressions a mix of grief and reverence. The muted murmurs of visitors filled the air, a backdrop to the faint scent of incense that lingered in every corner.

The priest walking beside him stopped abruptly, turning to him with a gentle smile. "It's here," he said, gesturing toward one of the walls.

Chen Ren nodded. "Thank you."

The priest's smile deepened, kind yet knowing. "I'll give you time with it, Dragonheart," he said softly before retreating down the corridor, leaving him alone.

Chen Ren let out a wry chuckle, unused to the title. His gaze swept across the compartments, each a reminder of lives lost and memories preserved. The lingtang was a public place, directly controlled by the city lord's office, where the ashes of the departed were kept for families and visitors to honour them.

Today, Chen Ren was here to visit the urn of a man he hadn't shared a good relationship with, Feng Ming.

Standing before the niche, he hesitated. A swirl of conflicting emotions churned within him. 

Feng Ming had been no more than another arrogant young master, someone who had antagonized him in their every meeting. Yet, even as Chen Ren recalled their less-than-pleasant interactions, one thought remained firm in his mind—Feng Ming's death had been unfair.

Did he deserve to die?

Chen Ren sighed. No, he didn't. Feng Ming, like Cang Rui or Bai Shen, had been frustrating and pompous, someone Chen Ren had clashed with repeatedly. But for all his flaws, Feng Ming hadn't deserved more than a lesson or a beating to humble him. Death was too cruel an end.

He stepped closer, his eyes lingering on the urn nestled within the wall, a silent testament to the fragility of life.

Chen Ren stood in front of the small, unassuming urn, his expression unreadable. 

He believed that every person had the capacity to change if given the opportunity. Sadly, Feng Ming had never gotten that chance. Gu Tian had taken that away, cutting down a life before it could take a new direction. Chen Ren didn't feel guilt—Feng Ming's death wasn't his fault—but he felt a weight nonetheless.

"I know we didn't have great interactions," Chen Ren began. "And you would never know it, but I'm not the Chen Ren you knew. Still, even if I didn't think of you as a friend, I couldn't let Gu Tian's actions go unpunished. I killed him. If your soul is still out there somewhere, I hope you find peace knowing that."

He lit the candle in front of the urn, the flickering flame casting fleeting shadows on his face. Giving the urn one last look, he added with a faint, almost wistful smile, "Maybe we'll meet in the next life and have a better relationship. I can at least attest to the fact that there is a next life. Until then... goodbye."

Turning around, Chen Ren slowly made his way out of the lingtang. 

In his previous life, he hadn't believed in souls or reincarnation. Such ideas had seemed fanciful and far-fetched. But here, in this world of cultivation, spirits and souls were some of the most normal things he would encounter. 

As he left, he silently hoped Feng Ming would find his rest.

When he stepped outside, the sight waiting for him brought a flicker of surprise to his face. A large carriage was parked near the entrance, its interior already bustling with familiar faces. 

Tang Xiulan stood by it, managing the group of children he'd taken under his wing, Mei Lin, Chun and Jian. But what caught his attention most was someone unexpected—Anji. She stood on the side against the carriage, her eyes following him with a blank emotion in them. 

Chen Ren's gaze shifted to the young woman, his eyebrows raising slightly. Before he could say anything, Tang Xiulan followed his line of sight and smirked. "She wanted to tag along," she said matter-of-factly.

"Is that true?" Chen Ren asked, his tone tinged with curiosity as he looked at Anji.

Anji nodded confidently. "Yes. I have no reason to stay in the city anymore. Miss Xiulan told me about your plans to establish a sect and how you'll need more hands. So I volunteered."

Chen Ren stared at her for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Bringing you along means one more mouth to feed. I would need a good release to allow you to do so." 

Anji rubbed her arms, not knowing what to say for a while before she lowered her head in an awkward bow. "I know a bit of hunting, so food won't be a problem and I know numbers, how to read and write, so I will be able to help out in the accounts. I know you have no obligation to bring me along, but I promise I won't be a burden, so please can I join you?"

Chen Ren looked at Anji, feeling a strange, unplaceable sensation as her words hung in the air. He wasn't sure about letting her come with him. He had ignored the signs with Gu Tian, but he wouldn't this time. Whatever he had observed of Anji had told him that the woman had a past and it wasn't ordinary. Just her knowing how to hunt and being literate meant that she was from a good family or even part of a sect. So why had she been living as a beggar? Her appearance also confirmed the fact as he could see that she looked far better than the average woman. 

A lot of time cultivation had a way to improve your appearance as you remove impurities from your body, but despite that, Anji was a mortal. He couldn't deny the fact. But it simply made the mystery around her far harder to discern. 

Should I let her in? Well, I doubt she can be a threat and before anything, I would need to know more about her. 

As he thought more and more about his decision, Anji stood there with a mix of determination and vulnerability, waiting for his response. Finally, he nodded, his expression softening. "Okay. You can come along. Take a seat inside."

Anji gave another small, awkward, but grateful bow before climbing into the carriage.

"She's hardworking," Xiulan remarked from beside him, her tone light yet approving. "I think she'll fit in just fine."

"Hopefully. We will need to learn more about her though," Chen Ren replied, his gaze shifting to the three children gathered nearby. 

"What about the others?"

"Not everyone wanted to tag along," Xiulan explained. "Most of them have spent their entire lives here, so I left them under Lihua's care. She'll need help with the stall anyway, and they're already settled in the servants' courtyard at the Tang Clan."

Chen Ren's brow furrowed slightly. "And Qing He? She didn't agree to come either?"

Xiulan shook her head. "No. She said she likes her tea stall too much to leave, especially for a village that hasn't even been properly set up yet. Something about her old bones not wanting to take the journey." She paused, then added with a small smile, "But she sent you books on cultivation disciplines and told me to remind you to visit her if you need anything."

Chen Ren chuckled. "I'll definitely need to see her once we move into the next phase of our plans." He glanced back at Xiulan. "Did you pack everything?"

"Of course," Xiulan replied with a confident nod.

Chen Ren smiled. "Then, let's go."

He reached for the carriage door and opened it, only to find Yalan already lounging inside. She looked up at him with a mix of boredom and irritation.

"You took forever in there," Yalan said, yawning. "I got tired waiting for you."

Chen Ren arched a brow. "Tired? You're literally lying around doing nothing."

Yalan scoffed and purred gracefully. "I'm preserving my energy in case some idiotic beast decides to attack us on the road," she said in her usual elegant tone. "Anyway, enough talk. Let's get going. We have a sect to build!"

Chen Ren chuckled, shaking his head as he climbed into the carriage. Questions, mysteries and a lot of thoughts filled him as he took his seat, but right now, he knew one thing. 

His path on the Dao of Money had just begun and there was a lot for him to explore. But before that, it was finally time to build his own company.

Epilogue - 1

The sun broke through the soft mist covering the mountains. Step by step, a lone figure climbed the stone stairs carved into the ancient rock, each step echoing gently in the quiet air. The man dressed in plain yet refined robes moved slowly, as though he wanted to enjoy every moment of the ascent.

He climbed until he reached the peak, where the world opened into a stunning view. Before him stretched a vast, serene land with swaying trees and crystal-clear lakes sparkling under the sunlight—a paradise that could leave any ordinary person breathless.

At the center of the peak sat another figure, his back turned, hands gliding over the strings of an old guqin. The mournful notes floated through the air, both beautiful and sorrowful, as if the instrument itself grieved its solitude in this heavenly place.

The man stopped and took in the sight. For a moment, time seemed to freeze, until the musician finally turned, a small smirk breaking the calm on his face. "I knew you'd come," he said. "But I didn't expect it to take so long to find me. The cultivators of the Immortal Path aren't as capable as I thought."

The man scoffed. "Your tricks around the mountains misled them. I killed those who couldn't see through the illusions," he replied, his voice sharp. The air grew heavy with tension at his words, as though bracing for the fight to come. "Now, it's your choice: join them in death, or hand over the medallion. I prefer talking before a fight, but my patience is running out. Don't waste my time, Silver Jade. Give me the medallion, and I'll spare you. I don't want to kill you now that you've retired."

Silver Jade laughed softly, shaking his head. "Two hundred years in solitude, and people think you're retired," he said, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I can't give you the medallion. That's why I hold it, not you. In your hands, it would destroy the world. I'm sorry, but my answer is no."

"I thought you'd say that," the intruder replied, his voice cold. "Looks like I have no choice but to fight you."

As he spoke, the air buzzed with energy, and his body began to change. Shadows curled around him, his skin darkened and cracked like old stone, and horns twisted grotesquely from his forehead, reaching toward the sky. In moments, the man was gone, replaced by a fearsome demonic figure, radiating power and ready to bring destruction to the once-peaceful peak.

Silver Jade didn't even flinch seeing the transformation. "Every time I see that face, Jun, it makes me sick," he spat, his voice steady but laced with contempt. "I should've ended you three centuries ago. But your master saved you when you chose the demonic path. Today, that mistake will be corrected."

Setting his guqin gently to the side, Silver Jade's eyes narrowed in focus. A jade sword began to form in his hands, its crystalline surface shimmering under the sun, its razor edge promising swift death. Without another word, he lunged at Jun, his movements fluid and precise, the strike aimed straight at his opponent's chest.

Jun dodged effortlessly, a sly grin spreading across his face as he soared upward, his mocking laughter ringing through the air. "Oh, is this all you've got? That swing couldn't even touch me!" he jeered, his tone dripping with disdain.

Silver Jade refused to be baited, maintaining his composure as he launched another flurry of strikes, each more calculated than the last. The two clashed high above the ground, their figures blurring as they danced among the clouds. Jun's every dodge seemed almost lazy, his smugness infuriating as he continued his taunts. "Have you truly fallen this far? Where's the strength you once wielded? You're making this far too easy."

But then, Silver Jade's blade found its mark. The sharp edge slashed across Jun's shoulder, and for a brief moment, triumph flickered in Silver Jade's eyes.

That moment was fleeting.

Dark flames erupted from the wound, racing up the blade toward Silver Jade's hands. He recoiled, dropping the sword as pain seared through him. "The dark flames…" he whispered, realising dawning. "You… you killed one of the phoenixes to refine them!"

Jun's laughter echoed once more, darker this time, almost melodic in its cruelty. "Clever, but not quite right. It wasn't one of the elders—it was one of its hatchlings. A small price to pay for power." He raised his hand, flames curling and twisting around it with an almost sentient hunger. "These flames don't just burn, Silver Jade. They heal."

To prove his point, Jun flexed his shoulder, and the flames consumed the wound, stitching it together as though it had never existed. His grin widened. "Watch closely now—this is the power you'll never have!"

With a flourish, Jun unleashed a barrage of dark fireballs, each crackling with destructive energy as they sped toward Silver Jade.

Acting quickly, Silver Jade conjured massive jade shields to block the onslaught. The fireballs collided with the barriers, their impact sending shockwaves through the air. But the dark flames burned too fiercely, melting through the jade like it was paper, forcing Silver Jade to twist and dive, narrowly evading the molten destruction.

Jun didn't let go. A blade of dark fire formed in his hand, glowing ominously as he closed the distance between them. He pursued Silver Jade relentlessly, his strikes gaining speed and ferocity, flames trailing in his wake like a comet. Each clash of their weapons sent ripples of energy tearing through the sky, shaking the mountain below. Rocks crumbled, and the landscape buckled under the force of their battle.

Silver Jade, now pushed to his limits, could feel the strain bearing down on him. Jun's relentless assault and the regenerative power of his flames tipped the scales heavily in his favor. For every strike Silver Jade managed to land, Jun's dark flames restored him, erasing the damage and leaving Silver Jade struggling to keep up.

Realizing he was going to lose like this, Silver Jade gritted his teeth and decided to unleash his full power. He dodged another strike and shouted, "Jade Cage Domain!"

The world around them changed instantly. Large ripples of qi blasted out from the man, transforming the world around them. Jade crystals shot up from the ground, forming a glowing yet suffocating cage that surrounded Jun. Silver Jade smirked, confident that he had finally trapped his enemy. But as the jade crystals closed in, Jun's face shifted. "Your domain is impressive, as always," he admitted, even as he felt the danger growing closer.

Then Jun raised his arms, flames bursting forth with a fierce energy. "But my domain is nothing to underestimate either," he countered.

As his power surged, flames spiraled around him, shaping into a terrifying figure—a massive, grotesque phoenix made of dark fire.

The dark phoenix let out a roar, its fiery wings spreading wide as it devoured the jade, turning it to ash in a brilliant blaze that lit up the sky. It rushed toward Silver Jade, ready to engulf him in its fury. The battle's balance shifted at that moment, their domains clashing to decide their fates and the future of the realms they sought to either protect—or destroy.

The phoenix screeched, its blazing wings scorching the air as it dove toward the jade barriers, its fiery talons tearing through the constructs like molten blades. Energy crackled through the air as Silver Jade summoned a massive green barrier, using the last of his qi reserves to form a glowing shield.

"Burn!" Jun's voice rang out, triumphant, as the phoenix tore through the shield. Flames consumed the jade domain's core, and shattered fragments rained down like a storm. Silver Jade fell through the sky. The jade-covered mountain below crumbled, burying the instrument that the man had been playing under piles of rubble.

Jun stepped forward, the phoenix shrinking into a wisp of flame that returned to his hand, taking the shape of a dark, fiery sword. He smiled slowly, his sharp grin full of confidence, as he surveyed the destruction. But as the smoke cleared, his amusement faded.

From the wreckage, Silver Jade rose, encased in a full suit of jade armor. The armor shimmered with a soft glow, power that had saved his life radiating off it. 

Jun tilted his head, his blade humming with dark energy. "Still alive? I'll give you credit—I didn't expect that. But you must know, this armor of yours—" he gestured with his blade, "—only delays the inevitable." He stepped closer, his every movement deliberate and heavy with intent.

Silver Jade's voice broke the silence, strained yet unyielding. "Demon, you can kill me, but you'll never get the medallion!"

Jun laughed, low and cruel, the sound curling through the air like smoke. "Why not?" He spread his arms, his flame sword hovering near Silver Jade's throat. "I only want it because it's holding me back. Progression is my sole purpose—the reason I get up every morning. To ascend. The feeling of reaching the next level of power, breaking past limits... It's the greatest pleasure in the world. Better than any drink. Better than any whore in my harem." His eyes burned with hunger. "I've been starving for that feeling for so long. And now, I'm finally about to have it again. Your righteousness won't stop me."

Silver Jade scowled, his fingers twitching as he growled through gritted teeth, "Die!"

Jun moved to cut off his head, but froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing as he caught the subtle shift in the man's expression and the power stored within them. Realization dawned on him. "A forbidden technique, is it?" he asked, amusement lacing his voice. 

"You're planning to self-destruct. How noble." He tilted his head mockingly, his grin returning. "But here's the thing: I've got artifacts strong enough to survive it. And when you're dead, I'll go straight for your disciples—ah, yes, Lilan and Daomi, wasn't it? Lovely names. I'll make sure to hunt them down and kill them, one by one."

Silver Jade flinched, his moment of hesitation betraying his resolve. 

Jun's smile widened, his blade flaring with dark fire as he prepared to strike. "So, tell me, hero—will you still throw your life away knowing I'll rain hell on everything you've ever cared for?"

Jun's blade hovered inches from Silver Jade's throat, the dark flames licking the edges of the man's shimmering armor. Silver Jade's gaze hardened, his lips moving silently as if reciting a final prayer. Jun's eyes narrowed, watching every twitch and flicker of emotion.

"Ah," Jun said, his tone suddenly light, almost conversational. "You're thinking of your disciples, aren't you? Have you heard of them? You know Daomi, that little brat recently became a marquis. Got a shiny, new title, a wife and even have a daughter on the way. How charming." Jun's smile darkened. 

"Do you want me to go there and wreak havoc? Burn their estate, watch their lives crumble? I'm very confident I can escape before the other domain holders arrive."

The latter's expression shifted, the anger giving way to something else—fear. He clenched his fists, his armor dimming slightly as his aura faltered.

Jun took a step closer, his smile widening as if savoring the man's torment. "Ah, even for someone as old as you, someone who has seen more death than most, your disciples are still precious, aren't they? How dramatic. So, what's it going to be?" He leaned in, his blade tilting to reflect Silver Jade's face. "You know me well enough to know I'm fully capable of keeping my promises. Just give me the medallion... and die. You've got five seconds."

Jun raised his hand, counting down with deliberate slowness. "Five... four... three..." He sang the numbers. 

"Wait!" Silver Jade's voice cracked. "I'll give it to you."

Jun stopped counting, his grin returning. "Good. A wise choice."

Silver Jade's trembling hands reached into his robes, pulling out a medallion that glowed faintly. It bore unique carvings, its energy palpable even at a distance. He extended it toward Jun, who snatched it eagerly.

Holding the medallion up to the light, Jun's eyes gleamed with triumph. "Finally..." he murmured, his thumb tracing its surface.

"You don't know what you're doing, Jun," Silver Jade said, his voice heavy with regret. "Your master picked you out when you were just a commoner, raised you to a position of power, and now you've betrayed everything he stood for—all for the sake of—"

Before the man could finish, Jun's flaming blade swept through the air, cutting cleanly through his throat. Blood sprayed as Silver Jade's body collapsed, the jade armor cracking and fading into dust.

"Immortality," Jun said, finishing the man's sentence with a smirk. He shook his head, muttering to himself, "I really need to stop killing everyone. My body count must be in the tens of thousands by now." He chuckled darkly, his eyes returning to the medallion.

As he held it up, studying its patterns, a smile crept across his face. "Finally, I have one piece. Now, if only I can get the others fast enough..."

His words trailed off as a strange sensation washed over him. Jun's eyes darted to his spatial ring, his smile fading slightly. Something was stirring inside.

With a flick of his wrist, he retrieved a small lantern from its depths. The artifact, made of dark metal and engraved with ancient runes, shimmered faintly in his palm. Inside, a tiny flame flickered, its light dimming with each passing second.

Jun frowned, holding the lantern up to his face as the flame sputtered, shrinking to a faint ember before vanishing completely. A sharp crack echoed through the air as the lantern's surface split, thin fractures racing along its once-pristine surface.

His eyes widened slightly, his expression unreadable. "Well," he muttered, his voice low, "that's... surprising." He turned the cracked lantern over in his hands, as if searching for answers. "Someone managed to kill Gu Tian and that old master of his. I didn't expect that."

Jun chuckled softly, the sound devoid of humor. "Guess you really do see something new every day, even at my age. But the question is..." He stared at the broken lantern, a spark of curiosity gleaming in his dark eyes. 

"Who could've managed it? A master cultivator, perhaps? Some wandering genius? Or..." His lips curled into a wicked grin. "The one who holds the medallion."

His gaze fell to the lifeless body of Silver Jade, still sprawled on the ground amidst the shattered remnants of his armor. Jun's voice dropped to a whisper, filled with quiet malice. "Well, whoever it is that holds that medallion... their fate will be the same as his."

He stepped over the body, his flaming blade dissipating as he slid the medallion into his robes. The air around him grew heavy with his oppressive aura as he glanced toward the horizon, his thoughts already racing ahead to the next step in his pursuit.

Epilogue - 2

Li Xuan's fists were clenched at his sides as he tried to calm his raging qi. He forced himself to focus inward, but the violent energy refused to settle—which meant that his mind was far from balance. But his feet didn't halter. 

He had learned a long time ago that a cultivator's qi mirrored their emotions, and this unruly force revealed a truth he didn't want to face—he was not at peace. For the past two weeks, the turbulent energy had followed him like a shadow, throughout his 

recovery period in his home. 

The city lord's estate, his home, should have been a place of comfort. 

His mother had tended to him herself, applying medicinal herbs to his wounds, her soft hands working on him as they always did. She had even gotten pills from an affluent alchemist to help him overcome the paralysis that had gripped him after the battle. They'd worked on him efficiently. 

"You did well, my son," she had said, her voice filled with pride. "You stood tall against a demon. Few could say the same. You will grow stronger, I know it."

It wasn't the first time she had spoken such words. As a child, whenever he lost a sparring match against older or more skilled opponents, her voice had been his anchor, a balm for his wounded pride. Yet this time, her encouragement felt hollow, unable to reach the depths of his unease. He'd given her a nod, not commenting on the fact that no matter what, he had still lost. 

His father's reaction had been different. The disappointment in the city lord's eyes had been subtle but undeniable, like a cold wind cutting through Li Xuan's fragile sense of accomplishment. Though his father had accepted the truth—that his opponent had been the demonic cultivator who had terrorized the city and wasn't an easy opponent to face—Li Xuan knew the man had expected more. Expected victory, like he always did. 

And perhaps that was what stung the most. His mother's reassurances, his father's quiet judgment, neither could quell the storm within him. The demon's mocking laughter still echoed in his mind, the memory of his defeat replaying with merciless clarity.

He sighed as he paused mid-thought, his qi flaring for a moment before settling into its calm state. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he tried to steady chaotic thoughts. But annoyingly, the qi flared up once again. 

This won't work… 

He needed control—over his qi, over his emotions, over himself. But the harder he tried, the more calmness seemed to slip away, like sand through his fingers. 

This wasn't like him. The Li Xuan he had been before the battle, before the defeat, would never have let himself falter. But the Li Xuan of now—he wasn't sure who that was anymore.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let his mother down. No matter how much he thrived to grow stronger, in the end, he had been weak. That realization gnawed at him, leaving an ache deeper than his injuries. In truth, he had also disappointed himself.

Hence, as soon as he had recovered, he had left for the sect, not wanting to stay in bed any longer. 

The steps carved into the mountain shadowed before him, and he climbed them at an uncharacteristically slow pace. 

He mulled over his defeat, the demon, his parents, and most of all, what his master would say when they met.

His qi flared wildly at the thought of his master, and it took every ounce of focus to suppress it. His master had entrusted him with a simple yet monumental task—kill the demonic cultivator, bringing glory to the sect and himself. But instead, Li Xuan lost. Lost in front of thousands, and he knew the sect would be buzzing with the news. A core disciple like him, bested by a body-forging realm demon, was nothing short of disgraceful, no matter the tricks the demon had employed.

What stung even more was the person who had killed the demonic cultivator in the end.

Less than a year ago, Li Xuan had defeated Chen Ren with ease. Yet now, Chen Ren had slain the demon Li Xuan couldn't. And not just slain it—Chen Ren had gone further, forming a spirit contract with a dragon, a heavenly creature revered above all else.

It felt unreal, like a tale spun by drunken storytellers. But the traces of heavenly qi lingering in the air during his recovery had been undeniable. His father's confirmation only solidified it. Chen Ren had done the impossible.

Step by step, Li Xuan climbed, his qi lashing out as his thoughts spiraled. 

By the time he reached the sect gates, he felt drained, both physically and mentally. He barely remembered flashing his sect token to the disciples guarding the gate or the brief nod they gave him. He trudged through the inner sect towards his residence, his mind heavy with unease.

On the way, whispers reached his ears—disciples murmuring about his defeat. The rumors were exaggerated, painting his battle in horrifying detail. Some claimed the demon had nearly killed him. Others added embellishments, like how he had begged for mercy. He heard it all, though no one dared approach him. 

Li Xuan knew why. They were afraid to be the first to step forward. But beneath that hesitation, he could sense the undercurrent of excitement. His defeat meant they could challenge him, using the excuse of "trading pointers." It was inevitable.

He had been in their place once, a fresh disciple eager to climb the ranks. Back then, he had fought and won every challenge with unshakable confidence. Now, that confidence was a distant memory. As he entered his quarters, Li Xuan clenched his fists, unsure if he had the strength to face the trials that awaited him.

Li Xuan's steps eventually brought him before 

the imposing doors of his master's chamber. 

He steadied his breathing and called out, "Master, Li Xuan is here."

"Come in."

As Li Xuan pushed the heavy doors open and entered, an oppressive aura washed over him, pressing down like a weight on his very soul. Instinctively, he fell to his knees and kowtowed, his forehead nearly touching the floor. His master's presence was overwhelming, a testament to the vast gulf between their cultivation levels.

The silence stretched until Master Xiaosheng's voice, sharp and cutting, broke through. "Li Xuan, I sent you to the tournament expecting victory. I gave you a task, yet you failed—not only in winning but also in succumbing to a demonic cultivator. Do you understand the shame you have brought upon the righteous path? For a disciple of my lineage to falter so pitifully, I am left questioning if your mother's blood has truly weakened you."

The remark struck a nerve, and Li Xuan felt his qi swirl violently, mirroring the storm in his heart. But he forced himself to remain composed, suppressing the chaos within. 

"Master," he said, his voice steady but tinged with regret, "I accept any punishment you deem fit. There are no excuses for my failure."

Master Xiaosheng's gaze bore into him, cold and calculating. "You will receive your punishment once I have concluded the sect meetings." He paused, then continued, "But for now, tell me what you know of this Chen Ren."

Li Xuan froze at the mention of the name, his thoughts racing for the reason why his master was asking about him. The Chen Ren he had defeated a year ago and the one who had stood victorious in the tournament seemed like entirely different people. After a moment's hesitation, he spoke carefully. "Chen Ren is... confident, intelligent, and resourceful. I fought him before, but the man I faced and the one he has become now are worlds apart. He has grown immensely."

His master's eyes narrowed. "Is it true he bonded with a dragon?"

Li Xuan hesitated. "I did not witness it myself," he admitted, "but there were enough credible witnesses for it to be true."

Master Xiaosheng frowned deeply at that.

"The sect wishes to bring him in. We need to learn more about the elusive dragons that have vanished from this world. Yet he rejected us."

The silence following that statement was thick, laden with his master's discontent. Li Xuan dared not speak further, silently contemplating the implications of his master's words. Months back, Chen Ren himself had taken part in the entrance exams to make his way into the Soaring Sword Sect, but now he didn't wish to do so. Why was that? 

"That old fool Elder Yan even defended him," 

Li Xuan's master sneered, cutting through his thoughts. "Said we shouldn't force him, as if such a talent could be left to roam free! But mark my words, I'll have a meeting to decide the sect's official stance regarding this Chen Ren. Until then, I'll be busy. Go train or meditate upon your failure, Li Xuan. When I'm done, I'll inform you of your punishment. Just know this—fail me again, and you'll need to find another master! Dismissed!"

Li Xuan didn't wait for further dismissal. Bowing low, he turned and left the room, his thoughts swirling like the chaotic qi in his dantian. 

There was nothing more to say.

But instead of returning to his chamber to rest and reflect, he let his feet guide him to a place that had always offered solace—the forest where he trained every day. The massive trees and rustling leaves brought a sense of calm that he hadn't felt since the tournament. Because here, in the middle of the wilderness, he could forget everything else except the Dao of the Sword. 

Drawing his blade, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The load of the sword in his hand felt familiar, grounding. He took his stance, letting the rhythm of his breathing align with the pulse of his qi. For a moment, peace overcame him.

But then, his master's words echoed in his mind. Your mother's blood has weakened you.

His grip tightened on the hilt as his qi swirled violently, breaking the fragile calm. He didn't fight it this time. Instead, he unleashed it, lightning crackling in the air as his emotions surged unchecked.

His sword moved in an arc, slashing through a nearby tree. 

The wood splintered, and the tree crashed to the ground, but Li Xuan didn't stop. Strike after strike, his blade cut through trunk after trunk, each swing accompanied by bursts of lightning that scorched the earth.

"I am not weak!" he yelled painfully. 

The forest became a battlefield, trees falling like soldiers under his resentful assault. 

Lightning danced wildly around him, lighting up the destruction he wrought. Splinters and shards of wood flew in every direction, some cutting into his flesh, drawing blood, but he didn't care. He was lost in the craze, his qi spiraling out of control as his strikes grew faster and more erratic.

"I am not weak!" he shouted again, his voice breaking as his knees buckled.

Finally, the storm of lightning around him dissipated, leaving behind a hollow silence. Li Xuan dropped to the ground, panting heavily, his sword slipping from his grasp. His body ached, his qi drained, and as he looked around, he saw the devastation he had caused. The forest clearing was littered with felled trees, an entire stretch of wilderness reduced to rubble by his rage.

He took a shaky breath, his chest heaving as realization set in. His qi, now calm, pulsed faintly in his dantian. The anger that had fueled his frenzy dissipated, leaving behind an emptiness that was almost unbearable.

He whispered to himself, "I can't keep doing this. If I let my anger rule me... if I keep losing control like this, I'll become no different from the demonic cultivators I despise."

Closing his eyes, Li Xuan took several deep breaths, each one slower and more deliberate than the last. He sat there amidst the destruction, the scent of charred wood and ozone heavy in the air, and began to meditate. He had to regain control—not just of his qi but of himself.

Because if he didn't, he knew he would never rise again.

As Li Xuan sat amidst the carnage of the forest. His breathing steadied a faint clarity began to emerge from the storm of his emotions. He focused his thoughts, letting the silence of the surroundings seep into his mind. Slowly, like a trickle of water carving through stone, his anger gave way to contemplation.

Chen Ren.

The name echoed in his mind, sharper than the whispers he had heard on his way to his chambers. He thought of the man he had defeated not so long ago—a man who had seemed destined for mediocrity. Chen Ren had fallen, humiliated in their duel. Yet, instead of wallowing in defeat, he had risen stronger.

Far stronger.

He had fought and defeated cultivators far above his level, slain a demonic cultivator who had bested Li Xuan, and formed a spirit contract with a dragon—a feat that seemed like a legend told by elders rather than reality. The contrast between them felt like a chasm, and Li Xuan's fists clenched as the truth settled deep within him.

Could I do it?

The question stabbed at his pride, but the answer was uncomfortably clear. Not like this. Not while anger ruled his heart and chaos consumed his qi. Not while he let his failures weigh him down rather than lift him up.

If he wanted to rise, if he wanted to reclaim his honor, he had to start from the foundation. Control his anger. Master his qi. Refine his swordsmanship. Only then could he think of restoring the pride he had lost.

Li Xuan exhaled slowly, his breath a plume of frost in the crisp mountain air.

Perhaps this is the will of the heavens.

The heavens, after all, did not allow anyone to ascend without trials. They struck down the promising, tested their resolve, and forged the worthy in the fires of adversity. Was this his trial? A hammer blow meant to temper him into something greater?

Shaking his head, Li Xuan rose to his feet. His body ached from the exertion, blood seeping from shallow cuts where splinters had pierced his skin, but he ignored it. He sheathed his sword, his grip firm and resolute.

"Chen Ren," he muttered, "I will defeat you. The man who killed the demonic cultivator. Dragonheart."

His gaze swept across the ruined clearing, the destruction standing as a testament to his emotions—wild, uncontrolled, and wasteful. That would not do. Not anymore.

"I will defeat you," he repeated, louder this time, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. "And I will reclaim my honour like a righteous cultivator should. Just you wait!"

The words hung in the air, a vow etched into the fabric of his being. With one last glance at the destruction he had wrought, Li Xuan turned and began the walk back to the sect, his steps steady, his mind sharper.

The path ahead would be long and arduous, but that was the way of the heavens. And he would tread it, step by step, until he stood above all—including Chen Ren.

***

Qing He turned the lock on the door of her tea stall with a soft click, pausing for a moment before stepping back to give the empty shop one last look. The late evening light filtered through the windows, showing off the worn wooden tables and the simple counter. Her eyes lingered at a particular spot near the window, where a solitary chair stood slightly askew, as if someone had just risen from it.

That was where Chen Ren always used to sit.

She sighed. "By now, he should be far away from the city. Off on his dangerous endeavour, building a sect of all things." She shook her head, the corners of her mouth twitching. "I don't know why, but somehow, I feel like he might just pull it off."

Her thoughts wandered, unbidden, to the golden dragon. A magnificent creature no one had bonded with for centuries, perhaps even longer. Yet, that brat had managed it. The sheer audacity of his achievement spoke of destiny—an immense, cosmic design Chen Ren seemed at the center of.

Destiny was not something Qing He usually placed much faith in. She had lived long enough to see it twisted by human hands. And yet, in this case, she could not deny the pull of something greater. The thought unsettled her, but it also brought a spark of curiosity.

She shook her head again, more firmly this time, brushing away the nagging thoughts. "Destiny or not, he has a long road ahead," she murmured.

Her footsteps were soft against the wooden floor as she walked down the narrow staircase leading to her private quarters above the shop. The upstairs were quiet, and it was the complete opposite of the noise that usually filled the stall during the day. Her ears craved this sort of quietness. 

She paused in front of her library, her fingers brushing softly over the spines. 

Without hesitation, she entered it and selected a specific book out of the few dozens she had carefully brought with her to this mortal town. Her hand moved to the back of the bookshelf, pressing a hidden button. With a soft mechanical whir, the entire shelf slid to the side, revealing a secret compartment embedded in the wall.

Inside lay a small collection of books, their covers aged and dusty from years of concealment. Qing He knelt and carefully removed the topmost book, her fingers brushing away the layer of dust to reveal its intricate cover.

The cover was a masterpiece of detail and artistry, depicting the Four Heavenly Beasts. 

At the top, the Crimson Phoenix soared gracefully. Opposite it, the Black Turtle coiled protectively around a serpentine dragon, its shell gleaming with emerald colour. Below them, the White Tiger crouched, its eyes fierce and intelligent, its stripes jagged like streaks of lightning—a symbol of martial might and unmatched ferocity. But it was the final figure in the centre that commanded Qing He's attention—a Golden Dragon.

The dragon's scales seemed almost alive, shimmering with a lustre that spoke of untamed power. Its piercing eyes glowed with ancient wisdom, and its sinuous body coiled as if ready to spring from the cover itself. The detail was so vivid, Qing He half-expected to feel the dragon's aura emanating from the book.

She opened the book with care, the pages crackling faintly under her touch. The first image was a portrait of the golden dragon, its form rendered in stunning detail, surrounded by celestial clouds and rays of divine light.

Her eyes lingered on the image as she muttered, "It seems like I need to do some reading of my own for what's to come."

Chapter 58

Chen Ren looked outside the carriage, his eyes staring off into the distance as his mind raised thoughts about currencies.

On Earth, people had started with bartering—trading goods and services to meet their needs. It was a basic system, full of flaws, but it had worked at the time. Eventually, coins appeared, shaped and made differently depending on the culture.

The Romans had their denarii, the Chinese used cash coins, and other civilizations had their own forms of money. Then came paper money—light and practical for bigger trades. Nations worldwide adopted it, tying it to a global system where its value constantly shifted due to markets and politics.

In this Xianxia world, things weren't too different, at least for mortals. Bartering had long been replaced by a currency system of copper and silver wens, minted officially by the emperor. These coins kept the mortal markets moving. In fact, a reliable system that everyone followed.

But for cultivators, the rules were different. 

Their currency had always been the source of their power—Qi. More precisely, Qi in its solid form: spirit stones. These stones were like crystals, holding raw energy inside them. 

Their worth wasn't decided by people but by the power they carried.

Chen Ren didn't know exactly how much Qi was in a single stone. All he knew was that low-grade stones had less energy and weaker power, while higher-grade stones held far more Qi and were much stronger. He didn't bother with the details. What mattered was collecting as many spirit stones as possible—for himself, his sect, and the goals he had set.

Looking down at the bag in his hands, a small smile crept onto his face. He untied the leather cord and peeked inside at the glowing pile of low-grade spirit stones. The crystals were glowing under the sunlight. He couldn't help but raise one into the air and closely observe. 

Then, he got to work. 

He counted them again and grinned. Ninety stones.

He'd started with an even hundred, but before leaving Cloud Mist City, he had spent ten to secure an official status for the Divine Coin Sect. It was a hefty price, and the loss still stung a little.

"Worth it," he muttered, tying the bag shut swiftly.

For Chen Ren, getting official sect status wasn't about pride—it was a smart move. An official sect wasn't only prestigious; it was a shield against heavy taxes.

Now, he didn't have to pay the steep 20% yearly tax the local authorities collected for the capital. Even better, as his sect's rank rose, the taxes would drop further. If he could push the Divine Coin Sect to the rank of a Guardian Sect, he wouldn't owe any taxes at all.

The thought stuck with him, especially when he considered sects like the Soaring Sword Sect. Their endless, fat wealth wasn't just from their resources; their high status freed them from any tax obligations.

Chen Ren's hand brushed the pouch of spirit stones tied to his waist as he sat deep in thought. Until a feline voice broke through the silence. 

"What are you thinking about with that serious face? You look like you've just spotted a meridian expansion realm fish and can't decide if you should catch it or let it swim away."

Blinking, Chen Ren turned toward the voice. Yalan, his sharp-tongued feline companion, sprawled lazily across Tang Xiulan's lap in the carriage. The pair of ambers glinted mischievously as her tail flickered. 

To her left, the street children huddled together under a thick blanket, fast asleep. Up front, Anji held the reins behind the small window, her face set with extreme focus as she steered the carriage. She'd insisted on driving to prove herself, tackling the job without a word of complaint.

Chen Ren sighed, leaning back. Mentally, he replied to Yalan, "I was just thinking about spirit stones and how to turn our sect into a Guardian Sect."

Yalan snorted, her whiskers twitching as if the idea amused her. "Our sect? Last I checked, I haven't joined anything."

Chen Ren couldn't help but smile at her predictable attitude. She'd always been like this. 

Shaking his head, he replied, "Stop acting like 

you don't care. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here."

Yalan opened her mouth, ready to speak, but Chen Ren ignored her, pulling out a notebook and quill instead. He began writing. The notebook was something he'd recently decided to maintain—a detailed status of his progress and plans.

The pages already contained his name, age, cultivation level, elemental affinity, techniques, and businesses like a status screen. After a moment of thought, he added a new section: Goals.

Uncover the secrets of the medallion and the golden dragon.

Explore opportunities for new businesses.

Expand the sect.

As he finished jotting down the last line, Yalan's voice cut through his focus again.

"Alright," she said. "Let's say I decide to help 

you out. I need to know what I'm helping with. You've left your businesses behind to play sect leader, but if you want my help, I need to hear your plans—to see if you're brilliant or just plain stupid."

Chen Ren smiled wryly, his quill pausing mid-air. Yalan's bluntness wasn't new to him, but he also knew her well enough to see through her words. If she'd truly doubted him, she wouldn't have stayed by his side this long.

Looking up at her, he replied, "First of all, I didn't leave my businesses behind. They're in capable hands. I'll get reports on their progress every two months, and I trust they'll run smoothly without me micromanaging. Second, as for plans..." He trailed off, his gaze flicking briefly to Tang Xiulan and the children sleeping soundly beside her.

"We do need to talk about that," he admitted, his tone softening. "A sect isn't built on ambition alone."

Yalan tilted her head, her tail swishing as if to urge him to continue.

Chen Ren turned toward Tang Xiulan and put his hand on her shoulders. Her eyes fluttered open, sharp and alert despite the long journey.

"Xiulan," he began, "I think it's time we discuss what's next—what happens when we reach Meadow Village."

It took a moment for her to reorient herself before she nodded, sitting up straighter. "I've been waiting for this conversation, young master. I need to know what you expect from me."

The air in the carriage grew heavier, but not with tension—with purpose. Chen Ren's mind spun with possibilities, but now, it was time to turn ideas into action.

"Yes, the first thing should be setting up a base. We'll hire locals to start construction on a proper sect building. I've already sketched out a few plans for that. Once the groundwork is laid, the second priority will be recruitment. You, Anji, and the kids are a great start, but we'll need more hands—especially cultivators. 

A sect without cultivators won't last long. And if trouble comes, there won't be many people to defend it besides me and—"

Before he could finish, Tang Xiulan interrupted, her voice calm but knowing. 

"Yalan."

Chen Ren froze, his eyes widening. "You know?"

Xiulan nodded. "I saw it during the tournament, when she tried to break the barrier. Others were panicking and running, but I wasn't willing to flee, so I noticed." Her gaze softened as she looked down at Yalan, gently patting the cat's sleek fur.

Yalan stiffened slightly at the unexpected gesture, her amber eyes narrowing, but instead of snapping, she allowed it. After a moment, she spoke, her tone carrying an air of haughty amusement. "Well, my dignified self doesn't have to pretend to be an ordinary cat anymore."

Xiulan's eyes widened, her hand stopping mid-stroke. A gasp escaped her lips as she bore her eyes towards the cat. "She... she can talk?"

Chen Ren chuckled, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small grin. "Well, there's that." He leaned back, his posture relaxing slightly. "Yalan is... sort of my mentor, or maybe master. Call it whatever you like. She's also agreed to act as a defender for the sect."

Yalan let out a small, approving hum, her tail flicking lazily.

"But," Chen Ren continued, his tone growing serious again, "we can't rely on just two people to protect the sect. That's why recruitment is so important. We need people—dedicated cultivators—who can help us grow and defend this place when the time comes."

Tang Xiulan sat silently, her brows furrowed in thought. After a moment, she spoke hesitantly, "But, young master, why would cultivators join our sect? I don't mean to question you, but… we've built no real reputation outside of your businesses, and those are confined to one city. Most cultivators would prefer to remain rogue than join a new, untested sect. And the ones we do get would likely be—"

"The throwaways," Chen Ren interrupted. "The ones no one wants. The so-called trash. And that's fine. I'm not looking for cultivators with unique physiques or a large number of spirit roots. We can do a lot with those who have few spirit roots."

Xiulan blinked, her lips parting to ask, "How?"

"Do you know how many roots I have?"

She hesitated, clearly wracking her brain for an answer, before finally shaking her head. 

"No, I don't."

"Twenty one," Chen Ren said simply.

Xiulan's eyes widened in shock. "Twenty one? But that's—"

"Abysmal?" he finished with a faint smile. 

"Yes, I know. And yet, despite that, I've been growing faster than most would expect. If I can do it, why can't someone else?"

Before Xiulan could respond, Yalan's voice cut in. "Are you forgetting you're an exception, Chen Ren? Your case isn't something others can just replicate."

"Maybe I am an exception. Maybe I'm not. But one thing I've learned about myself is that I'm not as special as I sometimes think I am. And even if I am special, I know for a fact that I'm not the only one. Do you really believe there's only one esoteric Dao in existence? There are countless paths, countless ways to grow."

Yalan's tail twitched, but she didn't interrupt as he continued.

"No one ever said cultivation has to be about fighting, popping pills like a drug addict, or meditating for centuries to progress. That's just what the Martial Dao has popularized. But cultivation isn't limited to that. We can think beyond it. We can create something different—a place where growth doesn't come with the weight of expectations or the burden of conformity."

Tang Xiulan's shock slowly melted into contemplation, her gaze softening as she absorbed his words. "A different kind of sect," she murmured.

Chen Ren nodded. "Exactly. A sect where anyone willing to work hard and think differently can find a place to belong—and grow."

Yalan let out a soft, amused snort. "Well, that's certainly ambitious. But I suppose 

ambition is a good start."

Chen Ren smiled faintly. "Ambition, a plan, and the right people. That's all we need."

Yalan tilted her head. "Mmm, not a bad thought, but finding people like that will be difficult. There's a reason they're called esoteric Daos—rare and elusive."

"We won't know until we start looking. Besides, I'm not planning to rely solely on cultivators for protection."

Xiulan and Yalan both tilted their heads, curious. 

"You two already know my plans to bring mortals into the sect," he continued.

They nodded, waiting for him to elaborate.

"We just need to give them tools to defend themselves," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. 

"Tools that can do real damage, at least against lower-realm cultivators."

Yalan frowned, her ears twitching. "What kind of tools are you talking about?"

Before Chen Ren could respond, Anji's voice rang out from the front of the carriage. "We're nearing the village!"

Chen Ren immediately leaned out the carriage window, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. The landscape opened up before him—a vast expanse of wide plains framed by distant mountains. A dirt road stretched out ahead, winding toward their destination. In the far distance, he could just make out wooden walls. Though they were still far away, his enhanced eyesight allowed him to spot the faint outline.

"Do you want to rest, Anji?" he called out.

She waved him off without looking back. "I'm fine! The village is close anyway. If nothing goes wrong, we'll get there in forty-five minutes."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a deep, guttural growl echoed from the forest around them. The carriage shuddered to a halt, and the air grew tense. 

The children jolted awake, their wide eyes darting around in fear. "What's going on?" one of them asked, his voice trembling.

Xiulan leaned out of her seat. "What was that?"

"Probably a wolf beast," Yalan said nonchalantly. She spoke through mind keeping the kids from finding her identity. "Low tier most likely. We didn't hear of any stronger ones in this area. But wolves usually move in packs. If they're around, it's better to deal with them now before they start chasing us."

"Stay inside."

Chen Ren stepped out of the carriage, leaving them inside. 

Yalan leaped out gracefully, landing beside him. She stretched, her claws extending slightly. "If they're weak, you can handle them. If not, I'll jump in."

Chen Ren smirked. "Good to know you've got my back."

The forest remained eerily silent for a moment, the growl from earlier still echoing faintly in their minds. Then, a rustling sound came from the underbrush, followed by the unmistakable sound of low growls.

Chen Ren tightened his grip on the weapon—a sleek spear with runes etched along its length for more piercing damage and durability, the gift from the city lord. 

He glanced over his shoulder at Anji, who was frozen in place, her hands gripping the reins tightly. Her face was pale, but she wasn't panicking, just waiting for instructions.

"Get inside the carriage," he said calmly, his tone firm but not harsh. "I'll handle this."

Anji blinked, then nodded wordlessly, climbing into the carriage with a speed that belied her hesitation. The children huddled together, watching anxiously as the door shut behind her.

Just as Chen Ren turned his focus back to 

the forest, another growl cut through the tense silence. It was louder, closer. His sharp eyes scanned the dense foliage, his muscles coiled like a spring.

For a long moment, nothing happened. The forest seemed unnaturally still, the usual sounds of rustling leaves and chirping insects absent. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, a dark blur shot out from the trees.

It was a wolf—larger than he'd expected. Its fur was pitch black, almost blending into the shadows of the trees, and its teal eyes gleamed with predatory hunger. It leaped from the trees, aiming directly at Chen Ren with its jaws wide open, sharp teeth glinting menacingly.

***

Haoran looked at the stack of letters piled high on the ornate desk in their office. These were the reports sent to their department from all across the Kalian Empire, a routine correspondence from every corner of the realm. Sorting through them had become a habit since they had taken on the role of one of the attendants to Princess Yanyue.

This practice wasn't new; it was a system established by the previous emperor near the end of his reign. Under this system, every ruler—from the smallest village chief to the most powerful city lord—was required to submit a monthly report detailing the events within their jurisdiction. These reports covered everything from mundane administrative updates to notable discoveries, such as hidden artifacts or emerging talents.

The purpose was clear: to ensure the royal family remained informed of anything unusual or promising, no matter how remote or minor it might seem. From these reports, key information would be carefully cataloged, creating a detailed repository of knowledge that allowed the royal family to keep tabs on potential threats, opportunities, and the shifting dynamics of power within the empire.

Of course, the system wasn't perfect. Not everything made it into the letters. Talents were often concealed, kept hidden by their families or patrons to protect them from royal scrutiny—or exploitation. Ancient ruins weren't informed about, not letting the royal family get their hands on it. And then there were the lords who deliberately withheld vital information, preferring to keep their findings to themselves rather than share them with a royal family that had, over time, become little more than observers.

Still, the letters were a window into the empire's pulse, and Haoran knew better than to overlook them. Even the smallest detail could hold the key to something extraordinary—or disastrous. With a quiet sigh, they picked up the first letter, the seal still unbroken, and began to read.

It was already well into the day when the attendant found himself still sorting through the mountain of letters. Some reports were dry, simply confirming the usual—everything normal, no disturbances to report. Others, however, contained more intriguing tidbits. 

One lord in the northern region, Zhang Ma, mentioned a mountain that had been destroyed—possibly a result of a clash between high-realm cultivators or a battle with a powerful beast. The lord had little proof, but the attendant found it noteworthy. Another report detailed the discovery of a new ghost ruin on the western side of the empire, while others spoke of skirmishes between the barbarians and the border lords.

As the attendant moved through the letters, one report from the City Lord of Cloud Mist, Li Baolong caught his eye. For a while, the letter seemed uneventful, just like the others—nothing but routine updates. He half-expected it to be the same as always, filled with trivial matters.

But as he reached the middle section, the attendant's eyes widened more with every passing line. It started innocuously enough—just a mention of a demonic cultivator on the loose, then the annual tournament. But then, the mention of an unexpected turn of events in the tournament caught his attention. A cultivator, once insignificant and unknown, had killed the demonic figure—Gu Tian. The report said the cultivator was blessed by the golden dragon itself and had even earned the nickname of "Dragonheart."

The attendant blinked, unsure if he had misread it. He read the passage again, his heart thudding in his chest. Then he read it one more time, just to make sure he wasn't imagining things. There were no disclaimers, no signs of humor. It wasn't a joke. It was written in an official report, which made it even more impossible to dismiss.

Lying in an official letter was considered a serious crime, one no lord would risk, especially not for something as absurd as this. No, this had to be true. He could feel a chill running down his spine as it settled in. A dragon—the dragon—had appeared in the empire after thousands of years.

The attendant didn't hesitate. Normally, he would have set the letter aside, continued his work, and moved on to the next report. But this... this was far beyond his usual duties. The implications of this discovery were monumental, and there was only one person he needed to inform.

Without wasting a second, the attendant gathered the letter in his hands, his heart still racing, and left his chambers.