Chen Ren kept himself busy, splitting his time between training, learning new techniques, and working on the food he planned to sell during the tournament. Similarly, the city was too lively with activity. Merchants, cultivators, and spectators were eager for the upcoming grand event. He had already secured permission to set up a temporary noodle stall outside the arena, but he wanted to do more. He wanted to get his food inside the arena too.
The problem was noodles. They were best eaten fresh and hot, and he couldn’t guarantee that in the chaos of the tournament.
So, he had turned his thoughts to other kinds of food—something portable, quick to eat, and still delicious, addictive even. And after days of thinking and experimenting, he came up with a few ideas. Now, he was working on one of them.
The kitchen of the Tang Clan compound was quiet except for the soft scrape of a knife against potato skins. Chen Ren sat on a low stool, peeling potatoes and tossing the smooth tubers into a nearby bowl of water. Beside him, Lihua, one of the maids, helped him. Her hands moved a little slower than his as she tried to keep up, but she worked with determination.
Chen Ren’s thoughts wandered as he peeled, planning his next steps. His schedule was packed tight, and he started feeling the strain. With Xiulan managing the noodle stall, the extra work of preparing the new food items for the tournament fell on him. "I really need more help," he muttered under his breath.
Lihua looked up at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Did you say something, Young Master Chen?"
"Just talking to myself," he replied with a small smile, focusing back on his task.
Their eyes met briefly before Lihua quickly glanced away, her face turning redder as she returned to peeling. Chen Ren couldn’t help but feel a little awkward.
He understood why she acted that way, and it wasn’t his fault. Like with most of his problems, it was the fault of his predecessor who had been a hedonistic bastard with no self-control and a habit of saying sweet things to women without meaning them. Lihua had taken those words to heart, and now he was left to deal with the very awkward aftermath.
Still, her help was appreciated.
As the pile of peeled potatoes grew, he planned to dry these and then fry them into crisp, golden chips and season them with spices. If everything pans out as he expected, he’d have the perfect snack for the tournament—easy to carry, quick to eat and tasty even after sitting for a while.
The work was simple but time-consuming, and Chen Ren couldn’t stop thinking about how much he needed to expand his team. Lihua’s occasional glances and shy smiles were a distraction he didn’t need, but he let it slide.
For now, he set his thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. He picked up a peeled potato, slicing it into thin, even strips. Lihua followed his lead, her knife moving with a bit more hesitation but improving with every slice. Once they had a decent pile of slices, they placed them into a large bowl of cold water. The water became cloudy from the starch, but it was all part of the process.
They worked in silence for a while. Finally, Lihua broke the quiet. “Young Master Chen Ren, what exactly are we making?”
Chen Ren glanced up from his work, meeting her wide-eyed gaze. “Chips,” he said simply. “It’s a dish I used to eat when I was a child. They’re easy to make, and since potatoes are cheap, we can prepare a lot of them. I’m trying to make these for the tournament.”
Lihua tilted her head, confused. “Chips? I’ve never heard of them. What do they taste like?”
“Crunchy,” Chen Ren replied with a small smile. “And if we do this right, they’ll be perfectly salty and addictive.”
Lihua nodded, her curiosity still evident, but she didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, they went back to work, slicing more potatoes and soaking the slices in the cold water. The pile of peeled potatoes steadily shrank, while the bowl of soaking slices grew.
Once the last batch of slices was submerged in the water, Chen Ren stood, stretching his stiff shoulders. It was time for the next step.
He moved over to the outdoor cooking area he had set up in the Tang Clan courtyard, the same spot where he had perfected his noodles. The large pot of oil was already heated, the surface shimmering with a faint haze from the fire beneath.
As he carefully lowered the first batch of potato slices into the hot oil, the area filled with the sharp sizzle of frying. Chen Ren watched the bubbling oil, his thoughts drifting for a moment.
This spot held so many memories—his first noodle experiments, the crowd of servants lining up for bowls of his food, and even Xiulan’s very sceptical gaze when he first started this journey. From that small beginning, he had come a long way. He now had multiple businesses and had made significant progress in his cultivation. It was hard to believe how much had changed in such a short time.
But it still feels like I'm just at the starting line, Chen Ren couldn’t help but think.
The golden potato slices floated to the surface, their edges curling slightly as they fried. Slowly, they began to crisp and brown, the rich aroma of fried potatoes filling the air.
Lihua watched the entire process with wide eyes, her knife forgotten in her hand. “So this is how they’re made,” she murmured in wonder, leaning slightly closer to get a better look.
Chen Ren nodded, using a slotted spoon to stir the slices gently. “This is just the first batch. Once they’re done, we’ll sprinkle some salt on them and let them cool. After that, you can taste them for yourself.”
Lihua’s eyes lit up with excitement, and Chen Ren chuckled softly at her enthusiasm. From there, the seconds flew quickly.
After a few minutes of frying, Chen Ren nodded toward the sizzling pot. “Alright, Lihua, take them out.”
Lihua quickly stepped forward, using a slotted spoon to scoop up the golden chips. She placed them carefully on a plate lined with large leaves to drain the excess oil. The crisp slices glistened under the sunlight streaming into the courtyard.
Chen Ren crouched down to inspect them. The chips were a mix of light and golden brown, their edges slightly curled and their surfaces freckled with tiny bubbles from the frying. Then, he picked up one and held it in his hand, admiring the texture. “I think they’re ready,” he said after a moment. Then he glanced at Lihua, offering her a small smile. “Do you want to try one?”
Her eyes lit up as she nodded. “Yes, Young Master!”
Chen Ren handed her one of the chips before taking one for himself. As he bit into it, the loud crunch filled his ears, and he took a moment to savour the taste. The flavour was simple—just the natural starchiness of the potato, lightly enhanced by the frying and the salt. He couldn’t help but think about the chips he used to eat back in his old life, mass-produced and coated with seasonings. These were nowhere near that level of flavor. But then again, those comparisons were unfair.
On the other hand, Lihua seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself. Her expression brightened as she munched, a satisfied hum escaping her lips. Once she finished, she instinctively reached out for another one but froze when she noticed Chen Ren watching her. Her hand hovered awkwardly mid-air, and she quickly pulled it back, her cheeks turning red. “S-Sorry, Young Master! I didn’t mean to—”
Chen Ren chuckled lightly and waved her off. “Go ahead, you can eat more.”
Her face lit up with gratitude. “Thank you!” she said, popping another chip into her mouth with an excited crunch. After finishing that one, she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. “These are so good! I’ve never eaten anything so crunchy before.” She paused thoughtfully, then added, “Though, I think they might taste even better with a bit of salt.”
Chen Ren nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll sprinkle some on the final batch before serving them. That’ll bring out the flavour more.”
Lihua smiled at his response and glanced back at the plate of chips. “I believe these will sell even better than the noodles! But, Young Master, there’s one thing I don’t understand. Why did you ask Xiulan to bring so much milk two days ago? I don’t see how milk is used for chips.”
“It’s not for the chips,” he opened his mouth, about to explain that the milk wasn’t for the chips, but the sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention. He turned around just as Tang Yuqiu entered the area where they were preparing the food.
Her eyes swept across the space, taking in the peeled onions and other scattered ingredients before landing on the plate of golden chips resting on the table.
“What are those?”
“Chips,” Chen Ren replied, motioning toward the plate. “I’m making them to sell at the tournament. Do you want to try one?” he asked. The more opinions, the better.
Yuqiu nodded, and so did Lihua, her appetite still not quenched. Chen Ren offered each of them a chip, and they both bit into their pieces at the same time.
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The courtyard was soon filled with the sound of satisfying crunches.
“These are so crunchy!” Yuqiu exclaimed, her eyes widening. “It’s simple, but it’s good.”
Lihua, still nibbling on her third chip, chimed in, “I told the young master that they’d taste even better with a little salt. What do you think, Young Miss Yuqiu?”
Tang Yuqiu nodded thoughtfully. “Salt would definitely enhance the flavor. These could be really popular during the tournament.”
As they enjoyed the chips, Chen Ren glanced at Yuqiu. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
She leaned against the wall, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead. “I heard you were working on something in the kitchen, so I came to check it out. Honestly, I’ve been cooped up in the perfume shop for days now, and I needed a break.” She sighed, wiping her brow again. “Ah, it’s so hot outside. We’re at the end of summer, but it just doesn’t want to leave. I’ve been sweating like crazy these days.”
She looked up at the sky and Chen Ren followed her gaze. Only a few clouds dotted the sky and the heat of the sun bore down on them. Even if he was a cultivator with a body more resistant to elements, he still sweated. Not to mention about mortals who had it much worse.
Hence, he had also planned something to alleviate the heat.
Chen Ren smiled as he decided to test out the other item on the menu he was going to unveil at the tournament. Turning to Tang Yuqiu, he said, “I think I might have something that will help with the heat.”
Yuqiu looked down at the chips in her hand, her brows furrowing. “You mean from these chips? They’re crunchy, sure, but you’re right. They’re also hot, and they’re making me sweat even more.”
Chen Ren shook his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Not the chips. Come with me.”
He grabbed a bowl and a spoon from the table, gesturing for them to follow him. Lihua, still curious, trailed behind alongside Yuqiu as they moved through the Tang Clan compound to another room.
When Chen Ren opened the door, a rush of icy air spilled out, making all three of them shiver. Yuqiu instinctively rubbed her arms. “Why is it so cold in here?” she asked, her voice almost trembling.
“I set up [Frost Arrays] in this room,” Chen Ren explained. “With some help from Senior Qing, I modified them to keep the temperature extremely low—around minus 18 degrees celsius. It’s the perfect temperature for storing what I’m about to show you.”
Tang Yuqiu blinked, confused. “Celsius? What’s that?”
“Just think of it as very cold,” Chen Ren replied, laughing.
Yuqiu glanced at the frosty air swirling in the room. “If your grand solution to beat the heat is to sit in here, let me tell you—I’ll freeze to death instead. It’s going from one extreme to the other!”
Chen Ren shook his head again, stepping inside. “Not quite. Take a look.”
Both women hesitated for a moment, then followed him in, curiosity outweighing their discomfort. The temperature dropped further as they entered the room, their breaths turning visible in the chilled air. Chen Ren walked over to a table in the corner, where several containers were carefully arranged.
“Now,” he said, holding it up for them to see, “this is what I wanted to showyou.”
Chen Ren gestured toward a large container nestled in the corner of the frosty room. He carefully opened the lid, revealing a smooth, creamy mixture inside. Using the bowl and spoon, he scooped out a generous serving of a substance and handed it to Yuqiu.
“It's called an ice cream,” he explained, looking at the replication of his childhood's favourite snack.
The ice cream glistened faintly in the cold air, but it wasn't the plain white or cream colour he had expected. It was a vibrant orange. The result had came due to the fruit pulp he had added from a common forest fruit called flameberry, known for its bright color and intense sweetness.
Tang Yuqiu frowned slightly as she examined the ice cream. “What is this?”
“Ice cream, I told you,” Chen Ren said.
“Ice cream?” she echoed, tilting her head. “I’ve never heard of it.”
Chen Ren smirked. “You’d never heard of noodles or chips before either, but you tried them and liked them. Go on, take a bite.”
Hesitating for only a moment, Yuqiu took a small spoonful. The moment the cold treat touched her tongue, her eyes widened in pure surprise. “It’s so cold!” she exclaimed, then paused, savouring the sweetness and refreshing sensation. “But it’s so sweet and smooth. It’s… It’s… It’s… amazing!”
Without waiting for further encouragement, she eagerly dug in, as though the ice cream might disappear if she didn’t eat fast enough. Lihua watched her with growing curiosity, her hunger plain on her face.
Noticing the maid’s expression, Chen Ren smiled and scooped out another serving for her. Lihua accepted it with a grateful bow and tasted it. Her reaction mirrored Yuqiu’s, eyes lighting up with delight. “It’s incredible, young master! So refreshing. I’ve never tasted anything like this before.”
Chen Ren nodded, pleased with their reactions. “I thought so too. With the heat as bad as it is, this would sell incredibly well. But…” He frowned slightly, considering the logistics. “It’s not easy to make. Milk, sugar, and the fruit pulp all cost quite a bit. While the results are great, I’d need to target wealthier customers to make a profit. Plus, producing it on a large scale would be tricky, even with the [Frost Arrays] doing half the work for free.”
Yuqiu, still savoring her ice cream, looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I believe you’ll make a killing at the tournament. In fact, I’m almost starting to regret not investing in this sooner.” She paused, then grinned. “Can I still invest? Please?” She gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, leaning closer in mock pleading.
Chen Ren laughed and shook his head. “No, you should stick to the perfume business. That’s where your talent lies.”
“But if you want to make some quick money,” he added with a teasing smirk, “I have a way for you.”
Intrigued, Yuqiu leaned forward. “What’s that?”
Chen Ren leaned in slightly, lowering his voice for dramatic effect. “The betting markets open tomorrow. Bet on me in the tournament. Just close your eyes, take the risk, and I promise you’ll walk away with a nice profit.”
“You’re awfully confident, aren’t you?”
Chen Ren shrugged. “Let’s just say I know my odds. And I have enough plans up my sleeve.”
***
The sun hung high in the sky, its rays beating down on the arena grounds where the tournament was set to take place in just a few hours.
A massive crowd had already gathered, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Naturally, most of them gravitated toward the numerous stalls lining the streets outside the arena, each offering a variety of enticing goods.
Among the chaos, Chen Ren stood by his own noodle stall, his arms crossed as he observed the scene. The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked noodles, drawing long lines of eager customers. Beside him, Xiulan worked efficiently, managing the orders with the same sharpness she had when she first started helping him. The street kids, who had become an essential part of the stall’s operation, darted about with bowls of steaming noodles, handing them out to customers and collecting coins in return.
Chen Ren's gaze roamed over the crowd, taking in the energy and the faces—both familiar and new. His eyes briefly stopped at Old Man Tian, whose stall was right next to theirs. The old vendor seemed to be doing brisk business, his gruff demeanor softened just slightly as he barked at the customers, urging them to try his skewers.
But then, Chen Ren's attention shifted, catching sight of someone unexpected in the sea of people. It was her—the unusual beggar girl.
The girl who had once been nothing more than a shadow in the streets. She moved with surprising grace, between the kids, handing out bowls of noodles and collecting payments like she'd been part of the team for years. Her clothes were still plain but noticeably cleaner, and her face—though still thin—had a certain light that wasn’t there before.
Chen Ren's thoughts briefly wandered back to their first meeting, when he’d handed her food out of pity and later seen her courage in the fight with the blood snakes. It was hard to reconcile that girl with the one now working confidently among the children, with a deep focus, even though the entire area was buzzing with activity.
As he continued to watch the girl, Tang Xiulan approached him, her hands carefully balancing at least five to ten bowls. She placed them on the table beside them and followed his trail.
“She’s diligent,” she said, folding her arms. “Her name’s Anji. She asked to help out because she didn’t want to keep taking free noodles. She’s been doing bits and pieces here and there since then. And knowing we’d need more hands with the tournament, I asked if she’d work for three meals a day. She agreed without hesitation.”
Chen Ren nodded approvingly. “That’s good,” he said.
His gaze drifted back to Anji. She was quick on her feet, balancing a tray with ease as she delivered bowls of noodles. At one point, she turned back toward him, just for a fleeting second, and their eyes met.
A strange sensation coursed through Chen Ren, like a faint shiver running up his spine. He felt it through his backbone and towards where the hairs behind his neck rose. What on Earth was that? Chen Ren squinted his eyes and kept staring at her.
There was something about her—a quiet intensity in her gaze that felt out of place, almost too sharp for someone her age. It left him unsettled, though he couldn’t say why.
Before he could dwell on it, Tang Xiulan tugged his attention back to her. “By the way,” she said casually, “I put all my money on you, Young Master Chen. Just like you said. The odds are twenty times more.”
Chen Ren smiled, the unease fading as quickly as it had come. “Good. That’ll be a nice pile of silver once I win.”
“You sound confident.”
“I have to be,” Chen Ren replied. “Did you send one of the kids to find Cang Rui?”
She nodded. “Yes. I got one of them to quietly slip word to his servants about where you are. But are you sure about this? From what you’ve told me, he feels insulted by you. If he shows up, it won’t be for tea and conversation.”
“That’s what I want. This isn’t just about noodles and bets. I need a spectacle. Something that’ll make people talk. Don’t worry—just watch and follow the plan.”
Xiulan gave him a long look, then nodded. “Alright. But if this goes sideways, I will go call the guards. They would stop any fight from breaking out.”
Chen Ren chuckled softly, but before he could respond, movement at the edge of the crowd caught his attention. Not just his—but also garnered the attention of everyone who was in the vicinity. A group of people pushed their way toward the stalls. At the centre of it all was the purple-haired young master—Cang Rui.
He walked as if he owned the roads with large strides. His fine robes swayed with every step and people made space for him. His face was lit with amusement, even his eyes were wrinkled up with the feigned smile he put up. Flanking him were his servants, and behind them were a few other rich-looking young masters.
They all carried an annoying smirk that seemed to be plastered to their faces.
Chen Ren straightened, a slow grin spreading across his face. “My plan begins,” he murmured to himself.
Finally, Cang Rui’s gaze swept over the stalls, his eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on Chen Ren. He whispered something to one of the young masters at his side, and they all laughed.
Xiulan stiffened beside him. “He brought an audience,” she muttered.
Chen Ren nodded. “The more, the better. Let the spectacle unfold.”
***
A/N - You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon.