Chen Ren had known relief before. It was the kind of thing that moved through your very soul, unshackling burdens you didn’t realise you carried. He had felt it when he pocketed his first paycheck from a part-time job, a small wad of bills that carried the scent of hard-earned freedom. He had felt it when the girl he had nervously asked to prom said yes, that too, with a broad smile on her face. He had even felt it after the merciful end to a week-long battle with loose motions that had left him clutching his stomach.
But none of those moments came close to what he felt now. The suffocating heaviness of debt that had started to eat him had been swept away.
The debt hadn’t even been his to begin with, yet he had never imagined he could repay it so quickly. The perfume shop had proven to be a gold mine, its success bolstered unexpectedly by the blunders of others. Between Yu Kuang’s greed and Bai Shen’s idiocy, Chen Ren had managed to secure six thousand silver wen in just two days—more than enough to settle his history to Feng Ming and the other creditors.
For the first time in what felt like ages, he was truly free.
With that freedom came opportunity. His perfume business was thriving, selling an average of a hundred bottles a week. Each one, priced between 5 and 8 silver wen, brought in a weekly income of five hundred to eight hundred silver wen. Even after deducting expenses for employees and herbs, the profits were staggering. His purse, once perpetually empty, was now steadily filling.
But freedom wasn’t just about money.
For him, it meant finally being able to turn his attention to something he had been putting off—his cultivation. He wanted to push through his breakthrough and get stronger.
In his quiet room, Yalan sat perched on his desk. The ambers in her eyes dragged his attention like usual.
“I believe you’ve practised enough now,” she said with a purr, gaining his full attention. “You’ve been in enough fights to temper your foundation. It’s time to connect to your star space and reflect on your dao. Unlike martial cultivators, who train their bodies and absorb qi, your path relies on simply gaining more and more wealth and reward you for it. Your recent gains should make it possible for you to push forward. I’m curious to see if you’ll skip any stages this time.”
Chen Ren moved to the centre of the room and settled into a meditative position. He looked up at her and tilted his head.
“Do you think I can?” he asked simply.
Yalan nodded and continued to lick her paw gracefully. That was the thing about this cat—even the most boring, usual-cat actions were performed with an air of superiority. She’s not just a cat, after all… But– Focus. Back to my cultivation.
“Yes. The success of the perfume business is a breakthrough in itself. It’s evidence of your growth, both as a cultivator and a merchant. From what I recall, the farmer cultivator I spoke of gained advancements by achieving milestones—whether it was cultivating special plants or acquiring rare farm animals. Your system is similar, though how it manifests will be unique to you.”
Chen Ren chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Alright, let’s see what comes of it. The last time I entered the star space, it was… weird.”
He closed his eyes and took a steady breath.
The star space was where he had first glimpsed the dragon, its majestic form entwined with the essence of the stars. He had wondered if it was something unique to him, but apparently every cultivator had it; a mind space of sorts that they found themselves in while cultivating.
And now, it was his turn.
Chen Ren closed his eyes, all his thoughts fading away as he drew in a long, steady breath. The qi in his dantian began to swirl, a gentle current that gradually built into a flowing river, carrying warmth through his meridians. Each inhale deepened his focus, grounding him in the hum of life coursing through him. His heartbeat slowed, his thoughts quieted, and soon the world dissolved into stillness.
When he opened his eyes again, he stood within his star space. The sheer vastness of it struck him once again, as it always did. The space stretched endlessly, a boundless void filled with floating stars that twinkle and danced like fireflies in the night. The qi here was thick, tangible, and alive, moving like a threat through the air.
Chen Ren tilted his head back, gazing at the stars that filled the sky above him. They were luminous, their glow-like steady beacons that pulsed in harmony with the energy within him. For a moment, he stood there, watching and wondering at the mysterious realm born from his own mind.
The beauty of it was humbling.
Then, as he continued to watch, the stars began to dim one by one. Their glow ebbed, their light faded. A quiet unease settled over him as he looked on, but it didn’t last. Two stars remained, their lights still twinkling.
Chen Ren’s breath hitched as understanding dawned upon him, clear and instinctive. These two stars represented his businesses—the noodle stall and the perfume shop. They were the milestones that had propelled him along his dao.
His gaze lingered on them, remembering his journey. He closed his eyes, focusing first on the noodle stall and how he had done it. It had been easy; making use of a delicacy that wasn’t in this world, improving ways he’d made the noodles and selling it till it stuck.
He’d spun the story, explaining that the noodles were an exotic eastern delicacy–which was half the truth, but it had worked great as his marketing and rumours had spread, propelling more people towards his stall.
Was it morally right? Maybe. Maybe not. His words hadn’t harmed anyone. So, while it might not have been entirely right, it wasn’t wrong either. It was cleverness, and it had made the stall a success.
His dao’s response made one thing clear; he shouldn’t blindly follow a path of righteousness. Instead, he needed to be shrewd—not in a way that harmed others, but in a way that allowed him to make things work more efficiently.
That was the lesson the noodle stall had given him— foreign knowledge and innovation weren’t enough. To make something flourish, it had to be marketed, positioned, and delivered smartly. Without a story, even the best products would languish in obscurity.
He didn’t want that for his products. So, he took the best out of what he learnt.
The more he thought about it, the larger amount of qi he felt entering him and boosting his strength. With open arms, he absorbed it before his focus shifted to the other star, the perfume shop.
Unlike the noodle stall, this business had been a gamble in a saturated market, where competition was fierce and innovation was rare. Yet Chen Ren had seen what others overlooked. His mind rewound to the moment he had first spotted the gap in the market—a yearning from the middle class, those caught between luxury and necessity, for a taste of refinement that didn’t demand a king’s ransom.
He’d acted swiftly, applying principles that vibrated deeply within his dao. Utility maximisation.
It was a study that talked about how customers looked for the highest amount of satisfaction while buying a product. And he had placed the price of the perfume at that point where it gave the most benefits while giving him a good profit.
The perfumes were bridges between aspiration and affordability, the scents were made to offer a hint of elegance without the suffocating price tag. It was an untapped demand, and he had delivered.
The market responded, filling his coffers faster than he’d dared to dream. But it wasn’t without its trials. And he had learned another lesson— wealth, like power, needed protection. A true businessman was a guardian, who should be prepared to defend what he built.
As his thoughts solidified, the star seemed to shimmer in approval.
Another rush of qi entered him, this time sharper, more concentrated. It filled him to the brim.
And yet, his eyes couldn’t help but wander. Beyond the two glowing stars were countless others, faint and distant, like unlit candles waiting for a spark. They hovered in the darkness, dormant yet brimming with potential. Each represented a business, an opportunity yet to be seized, waiting for him to master and integrate them into his dao.
This was the essence of his path— to conquer the stars, one by one, forging a constellation of wealth, ingenuity, and ambition. But it wasn’t just about gathering riches—it was about the journey, the challenges, and the mastery required to shape these stars into something greater.
As he gazed deeper into the void, something shifted. The stars, once scattered and unassuming, began to align. Slowly, they formed a shape—a massive, coiled dragon, its body stretching to fit the image.
The two glowing stars became its eyes, gazing down upon him with an intensity that sent shivers racing down his spine.
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The pressure that followed was indescribable, not just physical but pressed against his very soul. Chen Ren’s knees buckled, and for a moment, he struggled to breathe, yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the dragon’s eyes. They held something, he felt both small and significant, as though his entire existence had been laid bare.
Then, a voice echoed—not in the air, but in his mind.
"Child, you are... chosen."
The words shook his very mind. Chosen? For what? The dragon’s gaze bore into him, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw the stars behind it begin to flicker, their light about to vanish.
But before he could comprehend what it meant, the star space began to dissolve. Everything including the stars, the dragon and the voice started getting sucked into a void—or was the void always there?
When Chen Ren opened his eyes, he was back in the quiet of his room, his breaths ragged and his body drenched in sweat. The qi within him felt denser, yet his mind raced with questions.
He clenched his fists and blinked, disoriented, as his senses reoriented to the physical world.
But what hit him first wasn’t the light—it was the smell. A pungent, acrid stench assaulted his nose, making him grimace.
His eyes darted down, and to his horror, he saw a viscous black liquid pooling beneath him, ticky and foul. He scrambled to his feet, slipping slightly in the mess, and turned to Yalan, who stood nearby, licking her paws like nothing had happened, but her nose moved as if she was disgusted by him.
“What… what is this?” Chen Ren stammered, gesturing to the puddle.
Yalan raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly away from the smell. “Your extremities,” she said matter-of-factly, her tail flicking in the air as if to dispel the odour. “Advancement purges impurities from your body. These are the toxins you've accumulated over the years. Your body is refining itself, becoming more efficient, more… powerful.”
Chen Ren frowned, still staring at the dark muck. “How does that even work? I mean, all the science I know doesn’t—”
She cut him off with an exasperated meow. “I don’t know your ‘science,’ and frankly, I don’t care. Be glad you’ve skipped three stars and now you’re at the seventh. And,” she added, wrinkling her nose, “go take a bath. You stink.”
She looked cute with that little nose, but God, the smell. It could kill someone.
Before he could get up and move towards the shower, one of her sentences replayed in his mind. His brow furrowed as he turned back to her. “Wait… did you say three stars? I skipped three stars?”
Yalan nodded, her expression softening slightly as she observed him. “Yes. You’ve surpassed three stages and are now at the seventh star body forging realm. You’re rapidly approaching the threshold of the next realm.” Her voice carried a note of genuine admiration. “Congratulations. I haven’t seen someone with your talent advance so quickly before. It’s… remarkable.”
He sank back onto the floor, the realisation hitting him like a tidal wave. Three stars. Skipping stages. The seventh. He glanced down at his body, even through the layer of grime, noticing subtle changes. His muscles felt denser, his movements lighter, his senses sharper. Even his skin seemed to glow faintly. And underneath the filth, there was a strength that hadn’t been there before.
He clenched his fists, relishing the energy coursing through him. The desire to test his strength burned within him, but before that, a lingering question nagged at the back of his mind.
“Yalan,” he said, looking up at her. “After I bathe, I need your opinion on something.”
“What is it?”
He hesitated, then asked, “Do people normally… see dragons in their star spaces?”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed out of a response. “A what?” she demanded, leaning closer, but trying not to get herself onto the pool of blackness.
“A dragon,” Chen Ren repeated, watching her reaction closely. “I saw one. It spoke to me.”
Yalan stared at him, her lips parting as if to say something, then closing again. Finally, she muttered, “You… you’re serious.”
“As serious as I smell right now,” Chen Ren said dryly, gesturing at the puddle beneath him.
Yalan didn't say anything for a while, stepping back away from him, but her eyes glued to him. Questions seemed to swirl on her face.
Finally, she spoke. “Go take a bath. We will talk after.”
Chen Ren sighed but didn’t argue. He wasn’t about to spend another second covered in whatever this gunk was.
***
On a late afternoon, Gu Tian strolled leisurely through Cloud Mist City, his dark robe brushing the dusty ground as his sword glinted faintly against his back. The crowd parted subtly as he passed, more out of instinct than recognition, their eyes catching the strange, quiet aura he exuded.
He stopped at a roadside stall displaying countless bulbous fruits, their golden skins speckled with red and green streaks. He smelled the sweet aroma from the fruits and a temptation born in his heart. One hard to resist.
And sometimes, the only way to get over a temptation, is to give in to that.
As his pitch-black eyes settled on the shopkeeper, the man froze mid-gesture, his usual sales patter dying in his throat. The intensity of Gu Tian’s gaze was heavy, like staring into an abyss that gazed back.
The shopkeeper’s hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his grip on a basket, sweat beading at his temple.
Then Gu Tian smiled—just a small, relaxed curve of his lips—and the tension eased like a breeze.
“How much for one of these?” Gu Tian asked.
The shopkeeper quickly recovered, clearing his throat and picking up one of the fruits, which shimmered in the sunlight. “Honourable Cultivator, this is a Heavenly Dew Fruit, brought all the way from the famed Xuanshan Valley. It’s ten copper wen. It’s said to enhance one’s focus and stabilise—”
“Just give me one,” Gu Tian interrupted with a wave of his hand. “Your sweet talk just sickens me.”
The shopkeeper paled slightly but hurried to comply, plucking the finest fruit from the pile and placing it in Gu Tian’s hand.
Gu Tian knew that the man barely noticed the smooth weight of a coin dropped into his palm, his eyes flicking back to the sword strapped to Gu Tian’s back.
He bit into the fruit without ceremony, the juice bursting in his mouth with a mix of sweetness and tartness. He chewed slowly, savouring the unexpected sweetness, before glancing back at the shopkeeper.
“So,” Gu Tian said between bites, “how’s the city doing these days? Heard anything interesting? Something that might excite a young cultivator like me?”
The shopkeeper hesitated, his eyes darting around as if searching for eavesdroppers. His hands fidgeted nervously as he leaned slightly closer. “Well…” he began in a whisper, “there are a few things people have been talking about.”
Gu Tian nodded, but waited patiently, allowing the shopkeeper to respond.
“The city tournament—it’s happening in three weeks,” the shopkeeper said. “A lot of promising young cultivators are expected to join. Always draws a crowd, and the rewards are said to be extraordinary this year.”
“Hmm.” Gu Tian’s tone was noncommittal, but his chewing slowed slightly as he considered this.
“And…” the shopkeeper continued, his voice dropping even lower, “there’s trouble with the Bai Hu Association. Apparently, their young master hired a gang to damage someone’s business. But… he lost a Trial by Might after angering the cultivator who owned it. Big scandal, they say. People are still whispering about it.”
Gu Tian smirked faintly, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “Always entertaining to see arrogance backfire.”
The shopkeeper nodded nervously, then hesitated before sharing the last piece of news. “And…” He swallowed hard, his voice barely audible. “There’s… been a killer in the upper city. They’re targeting the wealthy—nobles, merchants. Three victims so far. The city guard’s investigating, but no one’s been caught yet. People are scared.”
Gu Tian took another bite of the fruit. The sweetness now tasted sharper, almost metallic.
His eyes glinted with interest, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. “A serial killer?” he asked, taking interest in the last piece of information.
The shopkeeper leaned closer, his nose almost touching his. Gu Tian wanted to move, but he held himself back, listening to the man's words.
“Yes, honourable cultivator. There have been reports of similar types of bodies being found—ripped apart and sucked dry, like something unnatural killed it. They’re saying a demonic cultivator is loose in the city.” He glanced nervously around. “Some even say the city lord is considering delaying the tournament because of it. But he’s resisting—doesn’t want to show weakness.”
Gu Tian chuckled softly, the sound more amused than concerned. “Certainly interesting times ahead,” he said, brushing the shopkeeper’s tension aside. His eyes gleamed again as he continued, “Tell me about this tournament. Where can I register?”
The shopkeeper straightened slightly, clearly more comfortable with this topic.
“You’ll need to visit the city lord’s office to sign up. It’s mostly for body-forging realm cultivators and lower-star qi-gathering realm ones. It’s a competition meant for the young—no high-star qi-gathering cultivators join in, to avoid losing face. The Soaring Sword Sect is sponsoring it, handing out prizes. The city lord’s throwing in a big plot of land outside the city, too. There is similar stuff to win, some artefacts and lots of spirit stones.”
Gu Tian nodded thoughtfully, flipping the shopkeeper a one copper wen. “Thanks for the information.”
The shopkeeper bowed his head slightly, relief visible on his face as Gu Tian turned to leave. Strolling down the busy street, Gu Tian bit into the fruit again, the juices running down his hand. He savoured the sweetness, his steps light as he reached into his robe and pulled out another fruit—one that hadn’t been paid for, but sneaked from the stall. He bit into it without breaking stride, a carefree grin spreading across his face.
As he walked, a faint whisper slithered into his ear, cold and sharp. “Don’t you dare enter the tournament.”
Gu Tian didn’t break his stride, addressing the voice in a low tone. “And why not?”
The whisper turned into a low hiss. “There will be many cultivators there, even the high-level ones will be watching. If we’re caught, it won’t end well for either of us.”
Gu Tian chuckled. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here to mask my demonic qi, aren’t you? Besides…” His eyes flicked up, his voice taking on a playful lilt. “Didn’t you hear? The Soaring Sword Sect and the city lord are offering rewards. It could be that what we’re looking for would appear in the tournament.”
The ghostly voice fell silent, its reluctance hanging in the air. After a moment, it spoke again, resigned. “Fine. But if tonight’s raid is successful, we leave the city afterward. Agreed?”
Gu Tian’s smirk widened. “We’re raiding another clan tonight, then?”
The ghost’s voice hummed in the thrill. “Yes. I overheard a conversation at the inn while you were asleep. There’s a clan in the city—the Feng Clan. Their young lord deals in artefacts. We might find what we’re looking for there.”
Gu Tian licked the juice from his lips and then moved to his hands, doing the same motion shamelessly, his excitement barely contained. “Sweet. Let’s hope that the young lord puts up a decent fight. I could use a warm-up before the tournament.”
***
A/N - You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon.