“My boss will hear of it, and once he does, you won’t be able to get out of the consequences,” the bald thug growled, his spit dripping out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes, small and beady, were filled with hatred. “You dare go against him by beating his subordinate. You will pay with your life. Your life ends here. Your whole family will die—”

A sudden slap cracked through the room like a thunderclap. Chen Ren’s hand recoiled from the strike, his dark eyes narrowing as he stared down at his captive.

“You talk too much for a prisoner, you know,” he said.

The room was small, shrouded in deep shadow with only a wavering lamp. The air hung thick, heavy with the metallic tang of rust and the sour tang of sweat. The bald thug sat hunched, chained tight. His muscles strained against restraints that clinked with every shallow breath. Next to him, Zhi remained motionless, head lolling, still submerged in unconsciousness, the cold iron sigils along the chains pressing deep against their scorched flesh.

Chen Ren’s gaze swept over them. He had made no mistakes. These were cultivators, after all. One lapse would cost him dearly, and so the chains had been tighter.

They had weighed the option of involving the city guards but knew their bureaucratic sluggishness and corruption all too well.

A report had been made of the attack, but they hadn't mentioned the fact that these two were captured by him. True to form, the guards responded with predictable ineptitude, increasing patrols around Market Street and stationing themselves around the perfume shop at the heart of this tangled plot.

But to Chen Ren, it was little more than a sideshow, a pretence to keep up appearances.

His plan was already in motion. And the bald thug before him—sneering, broken-lipped—was an important part that would soon make his plans come true. Or so he hoped.

Chen Ren squinted as he leaned forward. “Can’t you just give me the location of your boss? I just want to meet him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see me. And maybe you could tell me which of the Bai Hu Association’s dogs decided to meddle with my perfume shop.”

The bald thug’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “I will never say any—”

A sharp slap cut through the dim silence. The thug’s head snapped to the side, his words dissolving into a choked grunt.

“I will slap you every time you say something I don’t want to hear,” Chen Ren said, his eyes narrowing at him.

The prisoner glared back, eyes brimming with hatred, teeth bared. Chen Ren felt the tension between them growing with every second. Without warning, he slapped the latter again, the suddenness jolting the thug out of his snarl.

“Why did you slap me again?” the thug spat.

“I didn’t like your face,” Chen Ren replied, deadpan, before his lips twitched in the ghost of a smirk.

And so it went. Each question was met with silence or rebellion, each resistance with another slap. The oil lamp sputtered as Chen Ren’s hand met the thug’s bruised cheek over and over.

Time crept by, and the minutes turned into half an hour.

The thug’s face, once ruddy, became swollen and mottled with angry welts. It was almost funny.

The temptation to shatter the thug’s annoying arrogance with a show of true power begged him, but he held back.

If he was about to let his inner demon win, this scumbag wouldn’t survive—not in this state.

He needed him alive, for now.

"You’re really loyal." Chen Ren’s eyes narrowed as he studied the man’s face. A small smile crept to his face. "At least your boss knows how to pick up his lackeys."

The bald man spat on the ground, his spit was mixed with blood. His eyes came up to face Chen Ren, the outer corner of his lips curling, "Fuck you."

Chen Ren’s smile never wavered.

“I don't fuck with men and seeing your ugly face, I doubt even woman would,” he said, turning towards the door. “Either way, enjoy your time here in the darkness. I will come to meet you two later and maybe then you will be in the mood to speak."

Moving past the two thugs, he closed the heavy door with a a loud thud, the sound of a final farewell to the captives.

He gave the building one last look before he turned, taking a few steps away. It was one of the warehouses the Tang Clan owned, one that was used for one of their businesses, but once it had failed, the warehouse had been kept empty.

He walked for a minute away from the warehouse and entered an alley, only stopping when a sudden voice pierced the stillness.

"Did he say anything?" It was Yalan. She spoke aloud since it was just the two of them.

Chen Ren didn’t answer right away. His gaze drifted toward the shadows where she stood, her feline eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Her lithe form barely made a sound as she moved closer.

"No, he’s pretty tenacious," Chen Ren finally replied.

Yalan’s tail flicked in the air, her whiskers twitching. "Maybe it's a qi oath. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were."

Chen Ren hummed at that. "Maybe. But we’ll get our answers soon enough..." he frowned. Suddenly, his mind started rethinking everything. For what reason? He didn't know. "You’re sure it will work, right?" he asked.

"I have no reason to lie to you," she said while licking her paws. "Your plan has a lot of variables, but it should work— if you can lie as well as you do every time."

Chen Ren feigned offence while touching his chest as if he was hurt. "It’s called stretching the truth."

But before he could continue, Yalan cut him off with a swipe of her tail, her gaze never leaving the warehouse. "Just keep watching the warehouse," she purred, the words like a command. "If we’re lucky, he’ll try to get out in the next hour."

With a knowing smirk, Chen Ren followed her gaze, the cold wind tousling his hair as they both waited. The hours stretched out and the evening sun dipped under the horizon.

***

Guo Jiang didn’t have an easy life. He hadn’t been born into a family of great cultivators, and in his younger years, he had lived an ordinary life. But fate had twisted his path when he had been found to have spirit roots and an emerging sect had taken him in. The sect promised to hone his potential, but all it had truly done was push him toward an existence of hardship.

Rather than rising through the ranks and becoming immortal, Guo Jiang’s talent proved to be insufficient.

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His cultivation stagnated, and he found himself trapped in a cycle of disappointment. Determined not to be ordinary, he had sought out obscure techniques and forbidden manuals, hoping that they would give him the edge he needed. But those techniques came at a cost. His hair had fallen out in clumps, leaving him bald.

The teasing started soon after. "Baldy," they called him, and the name stuck, a constant reminder of his failure. He despised it with every fibre of his being, but it also stoked the fires of his fury. One fateful day, after years of torment, he had killed the fellow disciple who dared to mock him. It wasn’t long before he was cast out of his sect, an outcast among outcasts.

Guo Jiang had wandered for a time, unsure of where to go. His plan had been to join the Soaring Sword Sect, to seek out a place where his talents might finally be nurtured. But that plan fell apart when his path crossed with the Blood Snakes in Cloud Mist City.

It wasn’t the righteous path he had once dreamed of. It wasn’t the life of a cultivator. But it was something more—a life where strength, ruthlessness, and ambition ruled. A life where he could thrive without the restrictions of sects or laws.

Soon, he had joined the Blood Snakes, a notorious gang, and quickly rose through the ranks, his status as a cultivator was a useful tool in gaining power. But with power came enemies, and Guo Jiang had made his share. Yet every enemy that had crossed him had eventually tasted his wrath. He was a man driven by vengeance and fury, and no one who crossed him ever got away unscathed.

And as he sat caged in the empty warehouse, he swore that Chen Ren would have the same fate.

Of all the people Guo Jiang had clashed with, this one had been the worst. Chen Ren had burned him with scorching oil, chained him like an animal, and slapped him repeatedly to the point his face had swollen. The humiliation had been unbearable. The fury that had grown inside him burned hotter than ever, and it seemed like no amount of time could cool it.

But he knew he couldn't be hasty.

He bided his time long after Chen Ren had left. The young master had made a mistake. He had failed to trap Guo Jiang in qi chains meant for cultivators. And now he had his chance.

He waited in the dim shadows of the warehouse, listening carefully as he counted the minutes that passed. Chen Ren had moved away, likely thinking that he had left him to rot. But Guo Jiang was no fool. His time would come.

He could feel the pulse of his own qi, still steady despite the weariness of his body.

His wrists ached, and his limbs felt like they might give out, but his determination was stronger. With a swift motion, he focused his energy on his wrists and broke the chains that bound him.

The chains fell with a sharp clang to the floor, their hollow echo ringing through the silence.

Pain shot through him as he slowly stood, but he didn’t falter.

He gritted his teeth and moved forward, the world spinning slightly around him. The rage coursed through his veins, and his mind was set. He would have his revenge on Chen Ren. And when he escaped this place, he would make sure that the young master would regret ever crossing him.

In the depths of the darkness, he made up his mind.

The game was far from over.

And Chen Ren made a dangerous enemy. I will make sure to show him that.

He spat the blood in his mouth on the floor. Guo Jiang’s eyes then went to Zhi, still unconscious and sprawled on the cold, stone floor.

He had nothing against the man, but he had no use of him right now. Perhaps later, he would come back to rescue him.

Guo Jiang's focus shifted quickly as he leaned against a stack of crates, peering cautiously through a crack in the window.

The street outside was empty for the moment. No one in sight. His breath caught in his chest for a brief moment before he used crates to propel himself up before opening the window whole. He took another look outside and then slipped out, moving swiftly but carefully, his steps silent against the ground.

He kept his senses sharp as he moved through the alleyways, keeping to the shadows, his body still aching from the earlier treatment.

The faint twitch of his muscles throbbed within him, keeping him on his feet, though every movement felt like a weight he was pushing against. But there was no time for weakness.

He had a plan, and his goal was clear—revenge.

As he neared the crowded street, Guo Jiang blended into the chaos.

The noise of vendors hawking their wares, the raucous laughter of drunks, and the chatter of people moving about all enveloped him. He was no longer just a bald man on the run; he was part of the pulse of the city, a shadow among many.

His presence melted into the crowd, though his pace was the same. His eyes flicked left and right, knowing he should always be on alert.

After weaving through several winding streets, he reached the slums of the city, a place no one dared tread unless they had business there. Its alleys were mostly empty and the few passerby only gave him a glance before continuing on their way.

After a few minutes, he reached the middle of the slums and approached a restaurant, its sign barely hanging above the entrance.

Two guards stood in front of it, their bored expressions turning to suspicion as they eyed him.

"Beggars aren't allowed here," one of the guards said dismissively.

Guo Jiang’s lips curled into a dark smile, his eyes glinting with malice. "Stupid bastards," he spat. "I’m Guo Jiang. Now let me in." He paused and spat on the floor. "If you don’t want to die quickly, you’d better let me meet the boss."

The guards froze at the mention of his name, their eyes widening with recognition. They both paled, realising just who they were dealing with.

"S-Sorry, we didn’t recognize you," one of them stammered, stepping aside.

Guo Jiang gave them no more attention than they deserved, striding past them without a second glance. He muttered under his breath, the rage bubbling up inside him again. Chen Ren… once I get better, I’m going to kill you for this humiliation.

He walked through the door, the calm interior of the restaurant offering little warmth.

But he didn’t care. He was already planning his next move.

What Guo Jiang didn’t realise, though, was that a pair of eyes had never stopped watching him. He’d been so focused on his escape, so consumed by his thirst for revenge, that he hadn’t noticed the shadow slipping in behind him, trailing his every move.

The door closed behind him.

***

Tang Yuqiu glanced at Chen Ren, her brow furrowed in concern. "Do you really think it would work? Just you going and having a talk with him?" she asked.

Chen Ren met her gaze, knowing she was worried about what was about to happen. "Well, we would also be creating a scene, making sure they take me seriously," he replied as a matter of fact. "But from what I know, there are very few cultivators in there— other than Yu Kuang. The others, I can handle."

He turned his attention briefly toward the restaurant building where Yalan had trailed Guo Jiang, the faint glint of the cat's form vanishing into the shadows outside.

His eyes flicked back to the concerned faces of Yuqiu and Xiulan, the former’s brows knit in worry. Chen Ren hadn't shared the full scope of his plan with them. Yalan was hidden from their sight for a reason—some trump cards were best kept close to the chest, even among allies.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, but certain moves required discretion. They were obviously concerned about him due to thinking that he would be risking his life against a foundation establishment realm cultivator, but he kept his mouth shut.

Around them, a half-dozen guards from the Tang Clan stood straight. They were mortal men, but their purpose was clear: to ensure Chen Ren had room to move toward the inner sanctum of the restaurant, where the boss—Yu Kuang waited. If anything went wrong, these men would keep the path clear long enough for Chen Ren to act.

But for now, he needed to deal with the guards at the front of the restaurant.

Chen Ren nodded at the men, then turned to his female companions. “Just stay here. I’ll be out of the place in an hour. Don’t worry too much—I’ll handle it all. Not like I'm going and don't forget I'm from the Chen Clan. A mere gang can't stand against them, so if Yu Kuang tries to do anything, I will throw my clan name around.”

The guards nodded in unison, while Yuqiu and Xiulan exchanged a brief glance. Despite their concern, they trusted him. They had no choice but to. And so, Chen Ren stepped forward, moving toward the restaurant entrance with light steps.

The moment he approached, the guards at the door stepped in his way, their faces tense. “The restaurant is closed,” one of them said curtly, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

Chen Ren didn’t break his stride. His eyes narrowed as he stared them down. “I saw people entering here a while back,” he said, his voice cold.

“They are authorised to enter. You aren’t.”

Chen Ren’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he spoke again, this time more forcefully. “I believe I need to change that, then.”

Before the guards could react, a surge of lightning crackled to life around him, arcing through the air in a flash of bright energy. The guards flinched back instinctively, their eyes wide with fear. But Chen Ren didn’t give them time to recover.

The final part of his plan began like that.

***

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