Yalan gazed over Chen Ren, her amber eyes narrowing as she watched him move through the bustling market.

Chen Ren walked between the crowd as if he was used to the chaos that it brought, and his steps were mindful to match his calm exterior amidst the noises. A faint smirk tugged at her lips—he didn’t belong here, not in this world, not in this life, and yet he carried himself as though he had mastered it.

A strange human, she mused, flicking her tail. Even for a man from another world, he was peculiar. Whispers of lost souls, like leaves caught in the wind, had reached her over the centuries—otherworldly beings stumbling into this realm, often chasing grand dreams of martial supremacy.

Most were snuffed out before their stories could be written, their fragile ambitions shattered by the sheer challenge of the path they sought. Yet, Chen Ren had defied expectation.

Just days after his arrival, he had tethered himself to a dao so foreign, so unorthodox, that she—an ancient spirit beast with lifetimes of knowledge—could scarcely comprehend it. It wasn’t as if she was used to understanding outsiders, but this one walked a path utterly unlike any she had seen. A dao rooted in mundane simplicity yet profound in its execution, one that didn’t shimmer with celestial glory.

Despite his mediocre spirit roots—laughably weak by the standards of heavenly geniuses—his progress was nothing short of extraordinary.

She could only attribute it to his sharp mind and the unusual knowledge of the world he called Earth, a place she could only imagine as chaotic and incomprehensible. Where others spent decades refining techniques and seeking enlightenment, Chen Ren’s growth seemed effortless, as if the very heavens dared not obstruct his way. Or perhaps it was because no one else dared to walk the path he had chosen, leaving him unchallenged in a field that defied traditional cultivation.

Yalan’s whiskers twitched. The surprises never ceased. For all her airs of superiority and her role as his so-called master, she couldn’t help but feel like the one being taught.

Watching him shape his strange dao, his every step a quiet revelation, left her questioning centuries of knowledge she’d once thought infallible. But of course, her pride as a celestial cat would never allow her to admit such thoughts—not even to herself.

Instead, she lifted her head high, feigning indifference as the human continued forward, his stride strong and unbothered, even though he clearly knew she was watching his every step.

She had tried to rationalise her astonishment, pinning it on the circumstances surrounding him. Perhaps it was his otherworldly origins, or the unorthodox nature of his dao. But then, he had mentioned the dragon—a dragon—in his star space. A spirit manifestation this early was something entirely unheard of.

A part of her, ever wary, wondered if he might have lied. Humans, after all, were prone to embellishments, and she had encountered countless who puffed up their pride with falsehoods. But no—Chen Ren wouldn’t do that to her. He had always been honest to her. If he said he had seen the dragon, then it was real.

But how? Why Chen Ren?

These questions raged in her mind, tightening with every thought. She had heard of cultivators manifesting spiritual projections, their daos taking form in the astral plane. Yet this was a feat reserved for those who had transcended boundaries of the lower realms, their foundations honed over decades or even centuries. For him to achieve it now, so soon after stepping into cultivation, defied all logic.

Her tail twitched as she turned her gaze inward, her eyes gleaming faintly as she peered into the depths of his being.

His soul sat steady and unassuming within his dantian, surrounded by spirit roots so pitifully weak that any sect worth its name would have dismissed him without a second glance. And yet… her sharp eyes detected the faint hum of something more. It wasn’t that his roots had improved—no, they were as mundane as ever. But his dao... the path he carved out for himself seemed to bridge the gap, compensating for what nature had denied him.

She flicked her tail in thought, her steps light and unhurried as she walked beside him. The wind danced through her fur, but her mind remained tethered to the mystery that was Chen Ren. Just what had the heavens seen in him to gift him such an absurdly early revelation?

Before her thoughts could spiral further, Chen Ren’s voice broke the silence. He spoke to her through his mind, knowing that if he spoke alone he might as well appear as a madman. “So… what exactly is spirit manifestation?”

Yalan’s ear twitched, her feline features betraying a brief flash of irritation. She had known he would ask. Of course he would—he always asked questions.

With a sigh, she cast him the sternest look she could muster, one perfected over centuries. It was the same look she had honed when raising a litter of spirit kittens, training them before releasing them into the world.

Her amber eyes narrowed. “Spirit manifestation,” she began in a clipped tone, “As its name implies, spirit manifestation is the appearance of a spirit within you. When a cultivator walks their dao, they occasionally connect to spirits that align with their path. That’s why high-realm cultivators often summon spirits when they execute their techniques—but it’s rare. Exceptionally rare. Certainly not something someone like you should be able to achieve.”

She glanced at him pointedly, her amber eyes glinting with disbelief. “And a dragon, no less? The last dragon died three centuries ago. Even then, it was only a wyvern—not a true dragon. Do you have any idea how absurd this sounds?”

Chen Ren scratched his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Wait, so dragons are real?” Then, as if realising the answer himself, he smacked his forehead with enough force to draw curious looks from passersby. He looked stupid doing that, but she had gotten used to his eccentricities by now. “Of course they are. This world has everything.”

Yalan rolled her eyes but refrained from commenting. He turned back to her, his expression brightening. This man was like a curious cub, almost trying to get to the bottom of every question he had. “So the dragon in my star space… that’s my spirit manifestation?”

“Maybe,” Yalan said slowly, her tone unusually serious. “But this is well beyond anything I know. If it truly is a dragon, that’s… significant. A dragon being alive is already monumental news. But one that shares your dao?” She shook her head. “That’s nearly impossible. Dragons are mystical creatures, one of the Four Heavenly Beasts of legend.”

Chen Ren’s curiosity only deepened. “Four Heavenly Beasts? Who are they?”

Yalan sighed, flicking her ears in irritation but answered anyway. “The White Tiger, the Black Turtle, the Crimson Phoenix, and, of course, the Golden Dragon. They represent the pinnacle of existence, embodying unmatched daos.” Her tone softened as she began listing them. “The White Tiger stands at the peak of the martial dao, its strength and ferocity unrivaled. The Black Turtle follows the dao of healing, embodying resilience and restoration. The Crimson Phoenix pursues the dao of creation, revered by alchemists and craftsman cultivators alike.”

“And the dragon?” Chen Ren asked, looking down with widened eyes.

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“The dragon…” Yalan paused, her gaze drifting as though searching for answers in the distant horizon. “It’s unknown. Despite being one of the Four Heavenly Beasts, its power remains shrouded in mystery. It hasn’t revealed itself in centuries, and no records describe its true dao. It’s as if the heavens themselves concealed its path.”

“So… if the dao of the dragon is lost, could it be… that it rules over money?”

Yalan froze mid-step, her ears flattening as silence wrapped around her. The weight of his words sank in like a stone, sending ripples through her mind. It was ridiculous. Impossible. And yet… Her silence betrayed her uncertainty. What if he was right? What if this absurd notion was true?

If the dragon’s dao truly aligned with wealth, then Chen Ren was no ordinary cultivator. He wasn’t just treading an unusual path—he was poised to bring a seismic shift to the world. The thought sent a chill down her spine, one she quickly masked with a flick of her tail.

Snapping herself out of her stupor, she quickened her pace. “Let’s hurry to the tea shop,” she said briskly, her tone firm. “I saw some books on spirit beasts there. You will get more information on them there."

She strode ahead, ears twitching with irritation and focus. Yet, as the wind carried Chen Ren’s steady footsteps behind her, she risked a glance over her shoulder. His casual gait and unfazed demeanour only deepened her unease. What destiny awaited a man walking the dao of money?

***

Chen Ren sat cross-legged in the quiet upper-floor room of the tea house. The scent of freshly brewed tea was in the air but his focus remained on the stack of books before him. Like Qing He had promised, she’d allowed him access to more of her collection, and he’d already devoured a handful of them over the past few days. But today, his purpose was singular; learning the truths about spirit manifestations and spirit beasts.

He turned the worn pages of an old book titled “Path of the Bonded Spirit by Grandmaster Xu Fen”, the faded ink still sharp enough to convey its authority.

According to Xu Fen, spirit manifestation was one of the most difficult feats a cultivator could achieve, requiring not only a deep understanding of their dao but also the extraordinary luck to find a spirit beast that resonated with it. Binding the spirit beast wasn’t just a connection; it was a soul pact, forged through the cultivator’s star space. Once completed, the bond allowed the cultivator to draw on the spirit beast’s power, uniting their fates forever.

The book had detailed the process of binding, alongside accounts of cultivators who had succeeded.

Chen Ren’s eyes lingered on a vivid description of a famous cultivator, Zhang Wu, who had bonded with a mischievous monkey spirit. Through the pact, Zhang gained the ability to create multiple clones of himself, overwhelming opponents with sheer numbers. Another tale recounted the journey of Sato Shi, who formed a pact with a lightning mouse. The bond allowed her to summon devastating thunder strikes in battle.

Chen Ren’s brow furrowed as he read on.

He found detailed descriptions of spirit beasts commonly bonded with cultivators walking the martial daos.

Martial dao cultivators had a natural advantage, forming bonds with creatures like stone apes or wind wolves that enhanced their combat techniques. Alchemists, on the other hand, often bonded with fire spirit beasts—flame foxes, ember salamanders, or even minor firebirds—granting them the precise control of flames needed for their craft.

The book, Path of the Bonded Spirit, was an invaluable resource. Yet, as he closed it with a soft thud, Chen Ren furrowed his brows. "There's really nothing about dragons in here," he muttered, a tinge of disappointment colouring his voice.

From across the room, Yalan, sprawled lazily on her stomach, cracked an eye open and flicked her tail. "Obviously, there won't be," she said in a dry tone, as if mocking Chen Ren’s research. "I bet you didn’t even find anything on the other three heavenly beasts, did you? None of them have bonded with a cultivator in centuries. You won’t find that kind of information in any dusty book."

Chen Ren let out a frustrated sigh but leaned back, thoughtful. "At least I learned how bonding works. I can try with the dragon."

Yalan lifted her head slightly, and let out a chirr, before continuing. "But didn’t you tell me you’re always thrown out of your star space when the dragon shows up?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I can barely stay there for a few moments before it forces me out."

"Then you’re too weak to bond with it," she replied bluntly, stretching her paws out. "It’s impossible for someone in the body forging realm to bond with something like a dragon. Your body will break under the strain of its strength."

Chen Ren sighed again, deeper this time. Her words sounded like he wasn’t enough to do whatever he needed to do at the moment, and that was—frustrating. "That’s… unfortunate to know." He paused, staring out the window for a moment before his eyes lit up with determination. "But if it’s just a matter of strength, doesn’t that mean I’ll be able to bond with it if I get stronger?"

Yalan studied him for a long moment, her gaze unreadable. Finally, she shrugged, a sly grin forming on her lips.

"Sure. Build more businesses, then."

Chen Ren blinked, confused. "What does that have to do with—"

"Your dao," Yalan interrupted, her tail swishing playfully. "The dragon follows your path, right? Get stronger on your path, human. Maybe then you’ll have a chance."

Chen Ren gave a wry smile, leaning forward to stretch the muscles in his back and neck as he’d been sitting in the same position for too long.

“I already feel stretched thin as it is. I need more people in my sect, but it’s hard to recruit anyone without an official sect status."

Yalan scoffed, flicking her tail in irritation.

"Then just get an official one."

He sighed, shaking his head. "That’s easier said than done.” Definitely harder than flicking the tail and asking to get an official sect status. “To establish a sect officially, I’d need spirit stones, and you don’t understand how much harder those are to get. They're insanely expensive. Sure, I can earn a lot with my businesses and trade mortal currency for them, but the exchange rates? They’ll bleed me dry. A single low-grade spirit stone costs a hundred silver coins, and that’s if you’re lucky enough to find someone honest. Higher grades? Don’t even get me started."

Yalan's eyes narrowed as she stretched her front legs again, feigning a yawn. "Then why not go find them in the wild?"

Chen Ren gave her a flat look. "You think I haven’t thought about that? I don’t have the location of any spirit vein mines. It’s not like they just pop up out of nowhere. The famous ones are already under the control of major sects or handled directly by the empire. No one’s leaving those unguarded for me to stumble upon."

Yalan’s ears twitched as she circled the same spot she had napped in before finally settling down. She glanced up from the floor and gave her tail a single swoosh, signalling her comfort. Chen Ren couldn’t help but be amused by this cat—just look at her.

"Then go hunt beasts. Trade their cores for spirit stones. Isn’t that how cultivators usually make a living?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, forgetting all about the demeanour of the cat just to focus on her words.

"That’s an option, sure, but it’s dangerous. Spirit beasts aren’t exactly friendly, and I’m not strong enough to face high-grade ones yet." His gaze shifted to her, a wicked smile stretched across his face.. "Unless, of course, you’d be willing to lend me your claws?"

Yalan smirked, her tail curling lazily. "Ah, so now you want my help? What happened to your, ‘I can handle it myself ‘ attitude?"

Chen Ren sighed dramatically. "That was before I realised just how expensive ambition is in this world."

Yalan scoffed, flicking her tail dismissively. "I’m not your employee, human. I’ll help if you’re in danger, but if you start relying on me for every little problem, you’ll never grow. Do you think I want to follow around a weakling forever?"

Chen Ren nodded earnestly. “Well, you are right. I don’t plan to use you. It was a joke. You’re already my cheat in this world—besides my dao, of course."

Her ears twitched as she eyed him suspiciously. "Cheat? What’s that supposed to mean?"

Chen Ren just chuckled, refusing to answer as he snickered under his breath and moved toward another stack of books.

He skimmed through the shelves, his fingers brushing over the spines as he read their titles. “The Mystical Art of Spirit Carpentry,” “Cooking Techniques of the Flame Salamander,” “How to Properly Groom a Spirit Beast—Volume II,” and he stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Who writes two volumes on grooming?"

Yalan snorted from her spot, unimpressed. "People with too much time on their hands, clearly."

Shaking his head, he kept searching. His gaze wandered past a few more odd titles—“The Secret Lives of Spirit Ants” and “1001 Ways to Trap a Spirit Chicken”—until he froze. His eyes landed on a plain, leather-bound book tucked between more decorative tomes. The faded golden letters on the spine read: “Talismans and their Making.”

Something about it tugged at him, and he reached for it without a second thought.

***

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