Chapter 131 - 22-26

Chapter 22. Business sect

The perfume business moved faster than expected once Chen Ren and Tang Yuqiu finalised their discussions.

Soon, everything else settled in— Tang Yuqiu was given the task to manage the herb gathering and production while Chen Ren handled the marketing.

To make sure they were on the right side of the local laws, they took a day to read up everything on herb gathering and found a surprising thing— there were no restrictions on how much common herbs could be gathered. 

Only the rarer ones had restrictions, but they didn't have to care about them since the herbs they needed were extremely common. 

The only real concern came from the local gathering community, but that would be handled in a way that Chen Ren found both clever and practical.

Tang Yuqiu's solution was simple: hire the community members themselves to gather the herbs, turning any potential complaints into cooperation. It was the kind of pragmatic approach he'd come to expect from someone with a business clan background, leaving him free to focus on other matters while Yuqiu ironed out the smaller details. Profits would follow, eventually.

As she worked to start the production, Chen Ren shifted his attention back to the noodle stall.

The scent of fresh dough and spices mingled with the crisp morning air as he rolled out another batch, watching customers queue up with hunger in their eyes. It wasn't glamorous work, but with each satisfied slurp and each coin dropped into his hands, he felt the stall inching closer to stability. The perfume venture might be a longer game, but the noodle stall— now that was where he could see results day by day.

Till now, Chen Ren had ensured that every step with his noodle stall was executed flawlessly. He had become a familiar face among the other stall owners in the market, and many had begun to show him respect, nodding in approval when he passed by.

He knew a lot of it was due to his connections with the Tang Clan and him being a cultivator, but it was still admiration and respect. Unfortunately, those weren't enough— not for what he envisioned.

Cloud Mist City was teeming with opportunity. With his current success, he shouldn't waste any more time to see his noodles reach every corner of the city. Two stalls could easily thrive here, maybe even three if he played his cards right. And that was only the beginning. Beyond this place, the entire Kalian Empire stretched out like a golden field waiting to be harvested. But to expand, he knew he needed more than just a good recipe and a prime location.

He needed a brand.

So far, he had only dipped his toes into a single business, one that barely hinted at the ambitions simmering in his mind. But things were changing.

With the perfume venture now also set in motion, he realised that scattered ventures wouldn't cut it. He needed a common identity that would unify his efforts, something that would resonate with customers and leave an impression. Branding was his answer. Even if the concept wasn't widely known or formalised here, it was already in use. 

The big business clans, like the Tang Clan, branded every business they owned, subtly or overtly, with their name. When people saw that name, they knew who they were dealing with. The sects did it, too. Members wore robes in distinct colours, displaying their allegiance for all to see, turning even a simple garment into a symbol of their strength and reputation.

But Chen Ren wanted to take it further.

Rather than just crafting a brand for a company that would house all his businesses, he aimed for something with a deeper resonance.

He had been thinking about it these days and after all his internal discussions, his thoughts had landed on one thing— A sect. 

If you want to make waves in this world, he thought, you can't just swim— you have to ride the current and steer it.

Hence after tending to his noodle stall, he went to the tea shop, having already gotten permission from Qing He to read one more book from her hidden collection. He didn't move to another room this time and just sat at the counter, a thick tome opened before him. 

The shop's counter was cluttered with loose leaves and porcelain cups, but the old woman next to him, Qing He, paid him no mind.

She shuffled around, muttering to herself about the weather and something about hasty young kids, but to Chen Ren, she was just another part of the background. Her indifference suited him perfectly; he didn't need prying eyes.

He flipped a page of the book, its parchment worn but rich with history. The text detailed the rise and fall of the great sects.

"In the days before the rise of the Kalian Empire, sects stood apart from the kingdoms and empires— sovereign forces with their own laws, ambitions, and domains. They wielded power like that of nations, each sect a world unto itself. They ruled over their disciples and guarded their territories, bowing to no monarch or noble. Their strength and prestige often rivalled, and at times, surpassed that of entire realms, their influence spreading like roots through the land.

But all of that changed with the rise of the Kalian Empire. At its heart was the first emperor— a heavenly genius whose prowess shattered the barriers of the domain manifestation realm and reached the higher realms that only few dared to even dream of. With power unmatched, he united the scattered kingdoms and clans under a single banner, his conquests sweeping across the continent like a storm. Sects that dared to stand against him found themselves broken, swallowed whole by the empire's relentless march. Those who resisted learned quickly that defiance was met with annihilation."

"In some remote regions", the book explained. "Sects still held full autonomy, unchained by the authority of any kingdom or empire. They acted as sovereign entities, managing their territories and training disciples as they wished, following the ancient traditions of cultivation."

This was more like what he remembered from the cultivation novels he used to read back home— powerful sects that ruled entire mountain ranges or valleys, taking in disciples and shaping the fate of the land.

But these were rare exceptions, the book emphasised. The Kalian Empire had tightened its grip on most regions, folding nearly all but a few rebellious and demonic sects under its rule. Still, the sound of such independence caught Chen Ren's interest, and he kept reading, curiosity bubbling in his chest.

He flipped through more pages until he found the section on how to establish a sect. The old ways were simple— back then, all it took was a cultivator's word, and a new sect could rise overnight, built on the strength of their reputation and the sharpness of their sword. But the times had changed, and with it, the process had become more bureaucratic.

"To establish a sect," the book read in neat script, "one must adhere to the modern standards set by the Empire. A hierarchy has been established, beginning with the Four Guardian Sects, which oversee the territories and uphold the balance of power. Below them are the Established Sects, which have proven their strength and stability. They number in the dozens, each with its own unique practices. At the lowest tier are the Emerging Sects, numerous and ever-shifting in their fortunes. These new sects often lack the prestige of their older counterparts but may find their own paths to greatness."

Chen Ren's eyes glinted as he read on."To form a sect officially, a cultivator must be at least in the second realm and pay a fee of ten spirit stones. After registration, one may request recognition from the local city lord's office. Prior to this, however, a cultivator may file for an unofficial sect status, which grants limited rights and allows for the gathering of disciples, provided no direct challenge is issued to the existing sects."

The more Chen Ren read, the more the possibilities spun through his mind. A smile formed on his lips as he considered the idea of starting as an unofficial sect, slowly building up until he could pay the fee and gain recognition. It wasn't exactly what he'd dreamed of, but it was a start— one that could eventually lead to something greater.

Just then, a voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "Boy, you're reading that dusty old thing like it's your woman's breast. Planning to join a sect, are you?" Qing He asked, finally taking notice of him. 

Chen Ren glanced up, pausing before taking a sip of the lukewarm tea beside him. "No," he said, carefully closing the book with a soft thud. "It's for something else."

Qing He raised a grey eyebrow, her expression equal parts amused and sceptical. "Oh? What would a young lad like you be so interested in, if not joining a sect?"

Chen Ren leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he met her gaze directly. "I want to establish a sect," he said, his tone casual, as if he were discussing the weather.

Her expression shifted, her crooked smile fading into something that resembled disbelief. Then, with a wheezy chuckle, she shook her head and looked at him as though he'd sprouted a second head. "Are you trying to get yourself killed, boy? You do realise you're only in the mid-stages of the first realm, right?"

Chen Ren shrugged. "I know."

She snorted, her thin fingers tapping rhythmically on the wooden counter. "And you're aware that the Guardian Sects wouldn't even take you as an outer disciple, yes? You'd be laughed out before you even reached the gates."

Again, Chen Ren nodded. "I know that too."

The old woman narrowed her eyes, studying him as if she might see through whatever madness he was hiding. "Then why in the heavens would you want to establish a sect when you don't even qualify to be a proper outer disciple? Did you hit your head during a practice session? Boy, if anyone in the sects hears of this, they'll laugh themselves sick and take bets on how quickly you'll get yourself killed."

"Maybe. But some things are worth trying, even if others think they're impossible."

Qing He stared at him for a long moment, her expression softening slightly. She leaned back against the counter, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of ages. "You remind me of some fools I knew when I was young... but we'll see if you last long enough to prove them wrong, boy."

He shrugged at her words. "It just felt like the right thing to do to start my company," he replied. He knew establishing a sect wasn't as simple as opening up a noodle stall, but a sect being his company was what he was looking for. 

She scoffed. "And why not just establish a business clan, then? It would be much more fitting than some fool's dream of starting a sect."

Chen Ren shook his head. "To create a business clan, I'd need more members, more backing. But a sect? That I can start on my own. Plus, if I managed to become an established sect, there would be tax benefits, lenient rules on expansion, and access to resources that a regular business just couldn't get."

Her eyebrows shot up, and she let out a bark of laughter that drew a few curious looks from the other patrons. "If that ever happens in my lifetime, I'd gladly hand over this old shop to you and go live on the streets."

Chen Ren smirked. "I hope it doesn't come to that." He looked at her seriously. "Street life isn't meant for the elderly."

She scoffed again, this time softer, and then her expression turned serious. "Look, seriously think this through. Starting a sect isn't like setting up a market stall. You won't be able to teach just about anyone martial techniques, you know."

"Who said I'm opening up a martial sect?"

She blinked, clearly thrown off. "Then what kind of sect are you talking about?"

"I'm going to open a sect for business. One that mortals can join too— not just as helpers, but as proper members. Martial arts won't be the focus. Instead, I'll take anyone interested in making money while cultivating on the side. That's my vision. A place where even someone without a hint of talent can find a path forward, where hard work and strategy matter more than bloodline and talent."

She stared at him like he'd grown three heads this time, then let out a long sigh. "You don't know the logistics involved in running a sect. Uniforms, managing resources, keeping your disciples in line, and then there's protecting yourself from other sects that might see you as an easy prey. You won't even be able to manage even a tenth of that."

Chen Ren's gaze didn't waver. "Then I'll hire people. I believe that whatever I can't handle myself, I should have enough coin to hire someone who can. It's not about doing everything on my own— it's about knowing my limits and finding the right people to fill the gaps."

Qing He's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing. "You know, immortality isn't found in making money. The path to cultivation is paved with discipline, not profit."

Chen Ren just chuckled at that. "There's nothing wrong with making a bit of money along the way. The more I make, the more pills, herbs, and cultivation resources I can acquire. That'll benefit my sect, won't it?"

She let out a deep sigh, but a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "You might be crazier than I thought, but there's some truth in that, I suppose."

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by a loud commotion from across the tea shop.

Two young women had begun shouting at each other, their voices rising until they drew the attention of everyone in the room. Then, without warning, they lunged at each other, hands glowing faintly with the aura of low-level cultivators. Tables were knocked aside as they clashed, cups and plates scattering onto the floor.

The old woman shook her head, a look of exasperation crossing her face. "See that? Fights break out everywhere, especially among sect members. Those two are barely in the initial stages and you're not much stronger than them. If you start up a sect, how are you going to deal with situations like this? You wouldn't be able to handle it."

Chen Ren leaned back, a confident glint in his eyes. "Do you want to make a bet?"

She looked at him and cleared her throat. "A bet, you say? And what exactly are you betting on?"

"I'll settle that fight right in front of you. It will prove I can at least handle cultivators," Chen Ren said, pointing casually at the two quarrelling cultivators. "If I can do that without using my fists, you'll owe me a favour. Let me read more books from your collection, without any questions."

***

The moonlight was bright against the darkness, its pale light filtering through the slats in the window, illuminating a scene of bloodshed.

A man lay on the floor, clutching his side as blood seeped through his fingers, pooling beneath him. Around him were the lifeless bodies of guards, their faces twisted in shock, and a woman, dressed in concubine's silks, sprawled motionless on the ground. Her glassy eyes stared into the darkness, as if pleading for help that never came.

Above the dying man stood another, draped in dark robes that seemed to blend with the shadows, a bloodied sword gleaming in his grip. His eyes glowed with a malevolent light as he stepped closer, the edge of his blade catching the moonlight. A twisted smile curled on his lips. 

"Rong Zhen, it will be easier for both of us if you just tell me where the artefact is," he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery.

Rong Zhen clutched his wound. His breathing ragged as he shook his head frantically. "I... I don't know! Take everything in this room, just please... spare my life."

The demonic cultivator chuckled, a low and sinister sound that seemed to chill the air around him. "Oh, I plan to take everything," he replied, leaning closer until his shadow swallowed Rong Zhen whole. "But I don't need you."

With a sudden, jerking movement, dark tendrils erupted from his hands, twisting like serpents as they plunged into Rong Zhen's abdomen. The man's eyes bulged, and a choked gurgle escaped his lips as the tendrils drained his life force, turning his skin ashen.

Rong Zhen's body twitched violently before going limp, his lifeless form crumpling to the floor like a discarded doll.

The demonic cultivator grimaced as he finished, pulling his hand back and watching the tendrils retract. He made a face as if tasting something bitter. "I expected better from a wealthy man's soul," he muttered, wiping his hand on the edge of his cloak.

From the shadows, a ghostly figure materialised— pale and translucent, his form barely holding together. He hovered over the scene, his robes drifting as if caught in an invisible wind. The ghost's hollow eyes glowed with a faint, eerie light. "He wasn't a cultivator," the ghost remarked, his voice echoing unnaturally. "All mortal souls are... bland, Gu Tian. You should know that by now."

Gu Tian sighed, casting an annoyed glance at the wraith. "Another waste of a night. I thought this one might be hiding something worthwhile."

The ghost drifted closer, his gaze shifting around the room. "Perhaps not as much of a waste as you think. Check under that floorboard over there." He gestured with a translucent hand toward a loose plank near the corner of the room.

Gu Tian arched an eyebrow but obeyed. With a swift kick, he broke through the floorboards, revealing a small, concealed compartment. Inside was a wooden box, dusty and worn. He pried it open, revealing a dark, sinister-looking sword. The metal seemed to hum faintly with a toxic energy, a faint, greenish mist curling around its edge.

The ghost's eyes glinted. "An artefact... I can feel a poisonous aura emanating from it. This isn't some cheap trinket— an Earth-grade artefact at the very least."

Gu Tian's lips twisted into a smirk as he lifted the sword, feeling its weight and the power thrumming within it. "I keep finding these lucky encounters ever since you bound yourself to me, Master."

The ghost's laughter echoed through the room, a haunting sound that sent shivers through the air. "Don't let it get to your head, Gu Tian. The luckier you are, the more you'll be tested. That's the way of a Heaven's favoured."

Gu Tian's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming. "With my methods, Master, I think I'm more of a Hell's favoured."

He sheathed the sword at his side, taking one last look at the killings he had been responsible for. A part of him ached, knowing they didn't deserve it, but Gu Tian had forsaken chasing the path of a righteous cultivator long back. 

Now, he only coveted power. 

With that thought in his mind, he left the room, leaving the task of retrieving the bodies to any servants or family members who might find Rong Zhen tomorrow morning. He was sure that the sight of his dead body would be a good surprise for them.

Chapter 23. Lots of dumplings

The tension in the tea shop was thick, like a brewing storm. Every customer had turned their heads toward the corner where two young women stood, faces flushed and voices raised. Even the server paused mid-pour, eyes darting between the arguing girls, afraid that one wrong move might escalate things further. Chen Ren felt the movement— the shift of all those eyes as he wove through the maze of chairs and tables, making his way toward the commotion. 

Now, their eyes were on him. They were watching as if he was crazy to run into the middle of that fight— he swiped his eyes all over just once and focused on where he was headed. 

Why were they even fighting?

As he got closer, the nature of their argument became clearer, though their words were tangled in shouts and indignation. But the sudden realisation struck him, stopping him in his tracks. The source of their fury? It was a romance book— his romance book.

One of the girls, her face scrunched up in a righteous scowl, jabbed a finger toward the other. She was tall–tall enough to intimidate the shorter girl with purple hair. But it wasn't her height that gave her the upper hand, it was her eyes, they were sharp as a knife as they bore onto the shorter woman. 

The shorter woman flinched at her words when she spoke. 

"The main protagonist deserved to die! He turned his back on his sect— his sect! And don't forget, he had a childhood fiancée! Think of how shewould have felt, abandoned just because he got some foolish ideas in his head about love. It was betrayal, plain and simple."

Her opponent, eyes wide with passion, crossed her arms and shook her head vigorously. "You just don't get it, Yun Qiao! You are not even trying to understand— that's what real love is about! He went against everything, even the rules of his own world, for her! That's why the book is beautiful! That's why it's right! You can't say it's wrong just because it's unconventional!"

Yun Qiao scoffed, hands on her hips, chin raised. "If it was truly the right path, Mei Lian, then the heavens wouldn't have punished them. You think his suffering was a coincidence? That's fate correcting a mistake!"

Chen Ren paused a few paces away, his lips twitching into a wry smile.

He had written that book mostly as a way to gain access to the herbal books and bestiary, never imagining it would spark this kind of fervour. Sure, he had heard about the book catching some steam lately, and Qing He had also reluctantly let him borrow a second book from her collection due to his rising popularity. But he certainly hadn't expected it to be the cause of a full-blown argument between two budding cultivators.

Not just any argument, one that looked like it could turn into a duel anytime sooner.

Clearing his throat, he let out a small, deliberate cough to catch their attention. When their heated debate halted for a moment, he stepped in with a polite smile. "Ah, excuse me, but perhaps I could offer my perspective on this matter?"

Both girls whipped their heads toward him, looking him up and down with disdain. "And just who do you think you are?" Yun Qiao girl snapped, crossing her arms tighter. "We're having a serious discussion here, so scram!" 

The other girl nodded, frowning at him as if he'd just suggested something utterly ridiculous. "Yeah, get lost! This is between us!"

Chen Ren's smile faltered for a moment, and he scratched the back of his head, unsure f he should laugh or be exasperated. He had dealt with many things since starting his little noodle stall, but being dismissed from a debate about his own work was a new one.

Soon, they went back to their back and forth argument, almost as if he was invisible. 

Chen Ren's smile tightened as he noticed the two girls' irritation rising again, their voices straining with each heated word.

With another glance around the tea shop, he saw how uncomfortable most people seemed, watching the argument unfold like a slow-motion disaster.

Some people even attempted to close their ears so they could focus on the book splayed open in front of them. Only a few watched with curiosity and excitement while sipping their tea as if using their argument as entertainment. 

A sigh threatened to escape Chen Ren's lips but instead, he raised his hand slightly, trying to keep his tone calm but firm. "Your serious discussion is making the other customers uncomfortable, and you're one misstep away fro breaking something in the shop." 

"And who are you to represent everyone here?" Yin Qiao asked loudly. 

A small silence followed her question. 

"No one to everyone here, but my name is Chen Ren."

The girl in question opened her mouth, clearly ready to snap at him again, but then she froze, her eyes widening in sudden recognition. "Wait... did you just say Chen Ren? As in... Chen Ren, the one who wrote 'Liang Shan and Hua Yun?'"

Chen Ren gave a small, humble nod. "Yes, that's me. And I must admit, I couldn't help myself from coming over when I realised you were discussing my book with such passion."

Both girls stared at him, mouths slightly agape. The shorter one among the duo— Mei Lian, visibly fidgeting her fingers as she continued to stare at him. A few awkward seconds ticked by before she cleared her throat loudly. Her face flushed with excitement and she gestured to an empty chair at their table. "Would you like to join us? We, um, have a lot of questions."

Chen Ren accepted the offer with a nod, pulling out the chair and settling into it. The tense atmosphere softened as he took his seat, and the other patrons in the shop resumed their conversations, though many kept a curious eye on the corner.

As soon as he sat down, the questions came tumbling out.

Yun Qiao leaned forward eagerly, the earlier sharpness in her voice replaced by genuine curiosity. "I just have to know— when the protagonist left his sect for the girl, that wasn't a heart demon forming in him, was it?"

Chen Ren shook his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "No, it wasn't. It was love of the purest kind. Yes, he had conflicts about going against his sect, but he was following the core tenet of his clan— to always follow his heart as long as he believed he was in the right. And don't forget, the female lead was going to be sacrificed by her own elders. For him, saving her was justified."

Yun Qiao bit her lip, mulling over his words, while Mei Lian chimed in with a hopeful tone. "So, the true essence of the book is about true love, right?

Chen Ren smiled, but internally, he was frowning. If he was honest, he hadn't thought a ton about the story and added whatever tropes he could fit into it while taking the core plot from Earth's classic story. If he had actually thought about the essence or themes of the book, he wouldn't be able to complete it in three days. 

But now, as those two pairs of eyes waited for him carefully, he pulled himself out of the trance and decided to do one thing he was good at— Bullshitting! 

"There are many themes in the story, and they intertwine, depending on which characters you focus on. But if I were to sum it up, it's also about how ancient rivalries—those that have gone on for centuries, often without anyone remembering how they even began— can end up destroying the younger generation. The protagonist's love story is just one way that theme plays out."

As he spoke, he noticed more girls drawing closer, their faces glowing with curiosity. They pulled up chairs or simply sat on the edges of nearby tables, inching closer, eyes bright with enthusiasm. Before he knew it, several of them were leaning in, some even placing their hands on his arm as they bombarded him with questions about plot twists, character motivations, and hidden meanings in his story.

Chen Ren kept up with their excitement, answering each question with a smile, though he couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed by the sudden attention. He had always imagined his writing might reach people, but he never thought it would turn a quiet afternoon into a bustling discussion circle in the middle of a tea shop.

As time drifted on, Chen Ren found himself in a situation he could only describe as… serendipitous.

The small gathering of curious readers had turned into a full-on fan club, with young, pretty girls hanging on his every word. They crowded around him, leaning in with eager faces, their questions coming faster than he could answer. Before long, more snacks appeared on the table— someone had even brought over a plate of freshly steamed dumplings, insisting he try them.

One particularly bold girl held a dumpling up to his lips with a shy smile, urging him to take a bite while she asked about a certain plot twist. "So, when the protagonist's qi shattered after the betrayal, was that a symbol for—"

Chen Ren managed a muffled answer as he accepted the dumpling, unable to stop a bemused grin from spreading across his face. 

He had expected a few interested readers, maybe some debates or even criticism, but this sudden celebrity treatment was a pleasant surprise. For a moment, he wondered if today the goddess of luck had decided to bless him, showering him with this unexpected charm. Not that he was about to complain— no, he was thoroughly enjoying every bit of attention, basking in the admiration.

He simply wanted to drink tea, answer questions and eat the girl's dumplings. 

But amid the laughter and chatter, his gaze strayed over to the tea shop counter, where Qing He stood watching. Her expression was... complicated— a blend of exasperation, disbelief, and something he could only describe as begrudging amusement. It was as if she couldn't decide whether to scold him or be proud that her tea shop was now buzzing with so much energy.

Perched beside her on the counter, the amber-eyed cat lounged, her tail flicking lazily. But as soon as their eyes met, her whiskers twitched, and he heard a familiar, dry voice slip directly into his thoughts. "It seems like there's a reason why you took over Chen Ren's body. Both of you are more than capable of handling a few girls at a time."

Chen Ren barely stopped himself from choking on the dumpling, managing to maintain his outward composure even as he grimaced internally. He shot Yalan a look of annoyance, but deep down, he couldn't deny that a part of him was revelling in the unexpected turn of events.

Focus, he told himself, even as he felt a little rush of pride. He returned his attention to the girls, offering a polished response to yet another question about his protagonist's moral dilemmas. Yet, in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, there were some perks to his new life after all.

***

Days flew by as Tang Yuqiu established a small production workshop for their perfume venture, working closely with Chen Ren to get everything just right. She carefully selected a few of her most trusted aides, and together, they set up the process to craft their scents. 

They spent long evenings deciding on the different kinds of perfumes they would sell, pricing strategies, and the best way to package the final product. Given the high cost of glass, they chose to go with elegant wooden bottles adorned with intricate engravings. Each bottle bore both the Tang Clan name and Chen Ren's sect mark— a golden coin with the face of a dragon, the same beast Chen Ren had seen during his deep connection with his dao. Even though he hadn't officially registered his sect or chosen a name, the symbol felt like a natural choice.

After several days of tiring, but systematic process, Chen Ren and Tang Yuqiu met in the workshop to inspect the first batch of perfumes ready for the market.

As he picked up a bottle, he admired the craftsmanship. The wooden casing was smooth to the touch, engraved with detailed patterns of flowing clouds and waves, with the dragon coin symbol subtly etched on one side and the Tang Clan emblem on the other. The scent he opened was named Feng Hua— Opulent Breeze, a fresh blend of herbs and light floral notes, capturing the essence of a crisp morning in the mountains, but also a hint of luxurious mysteriousness from the fragrance of the Martha Wood he used.

He took a deep breath, savouring the fragrance, and then glanced at Yuqiu with a satisfied nod. "It looks good. I believe it'll be a big hit."

Yuqiu crossed her arms, a small smile playing on her lips. "I believe so too. We've already gotten the permit, but I don't think it will be as easy as you're imagining, even with us selling it at such low prices."

Chen Ren raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

She sighed, leaning against the workbench. "The winds in the business world are shifting, and the existing players have already caught a whiff of our plans. Since I'm part of the Tang Clan, they're keeping a close eye on us. And if we start taking a big chunk out of the market with such affordable prices, they're not going to take it lightly."

Chen Ren considered her words for a moment before replying, "But there won't be any trouble from the sects. They don't have partnerships in the perfume trade. They simply provide the resources."

Yuqiu nodded in agreement. "Yes, but the businesses themselves— families like the Cang Clan and the Bai Hu Trade Association— are not easy to go against. They've dominated the market for years."

He offered a reassuring smile. "We're already doing everything we can to protect ourselves. Are you sticking to the precautions I suggested?"

She met his gaze firmly. "I am."

"Then we'll be fine," he said, confidence in his tone. "For now, our focus should be on marketing. That's what will make the difference."

Yuqiu tilted her head, curious. "Do you have any ideas for that?"

Chen Ren's eyes gleamed with excitement as a plan took shape in his mind. "Yeah, a few things. The more I thought it through, the clearer the marketing strategy became. I believe you'll like it. Let me tell you about it…"

Chen Ren took a step forward while Yuqiu drew a smile on her face that showed how she already trusted him, before he could complete the plan in his mind.

Chapter 24. Bai Hu Trade Association

Tang Yuqiu's eyes fluttered open, drawn out of sleep by the light caress of dawn's light slipping through the cracks of her window shutters. The warmth of the sun's early rays touched her face, gentle and persistent, coaxing her awake. She blinked, momentarily dazed, as she soaked in the serene morning hues filtering into her room. A nervous thrill raced through her veins, making her heart thud a little faster, a quiet anticipation that prickled beneath her skin.

"Today is the day," she murmured, her voice barely audible in the quiet of the morning, yet the words stirred something deep inside her.

Her mind drifted back, unbidden, to a time not so long ago— a time when her father had finally granted her the chance to prove herself. Back then, she had been eager and full of ideas, diving headfirst into the challenge.

She had researched tirelessly, seeking out methods to increase productivity, negotiating with blacksmiths to craft better tools, and cutting prices to undercut her competitors. The thrill of new possibilities had fueled her every step.

But reality had been harsh. The workforce had struggled to keep up with the demands, and soon, profits dwindled. 

Customers turned away, lured by more established names and better alternatives.

Each passing day had layered dread upon her shoulders, a weight that grew heavier with every failure. Yet she still remembered the thrill of those first few days— the heady excitement that had surged through her veins, the electric hope that had made her believe she could reshape her fate. 

Now, that same excitement and nervousness welled up in her again, but it was tempered by experience, shaded by the shadows of past failures.

As she rose from bed, a new thought anchored her, grounding her racing mind.

No. This time, it will be different. I'm not alone. It wouldn't be the same— if it does, well. Someone will be leaving the Tang Clan manor and it won't be me. 

Ignoring the small doubts that started creeping from the back of her head, she started freshening up. 

She dressed with care, choosing a deep lavender robe embroidered with silver threads that caught the morning light— dignified yet approachable, she thought. It was a look that spoke of elegance, without the ostentation that might scare away their first customers.

Her maid, Ling'er, awaited her outside, hands folded neatly, her face a mirror of calm reassurance.

They shared a quiet understanding as they stepped into the lacquered carriage, the wheels creaking into motion on the streets. The city awoke around them, lanterns extinguishing as the sun climbed higher, vendors calling out in the distance, and the faint clattering of morning carts blending into a familiar hum.

Ling'er glanced at her, catching the faint crease between Tang Yuqiu's brows. "Miss, it will be alright," she said softly, the hope in her voice steady like a river's current. "This venture will be a great success."

Tang Yuqiu forced a smile and nodded, but her hands twisted in her lap, the nervous energy refusing to settle.

"I hope so," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of doubt that she couldn't quite hide. "I don't trust Chen Ren, not entirely. But… Everything he's done so far makes me believe he has a plan. We just need to follow it." Her voice grew firmer as she spoke, like she was convincing herself as much as Ling'er.

The carriage rolled to a gentle stop, and as they stepped down, Tang Yuqiu's breath caught in her throat.

Before her stood the shop— a space she had rented from the Tang Clan, one of the few empty properties they owned in the busy heart of the city.

The location was prime, situated where several streets converged— a crossroads where the clamour of the Market Street bled into the stately calm of the upper districts. It was the kind of place where merchants rubbed shoulders with nobles, where the scent of spices mingled with the perfume of the wealthier residents.

Her eyes lingered on the freshly painted sign above the door: Heavenly Fragrances.

The characters were bold yet graceful. They seemed to hold a promise, a hope that this new beginning could bloom into something more.

For a moment, she just stood there, the morning sun warming her back, taking in the sight of the shop that held all her dreams and worries, even though she wished this anxiety was temporary.

The sign of Heavenly Fragrances bore the symbols of the Tang Clan alongside a fancily carved golden coin emblem.

The coin symbolised Chen Ren's role in the venture, adding a touch that complemented the Tang Clan's prestige with a fresh, distinctive flair.

He had picked the name of the shop without much deliberation, insisting that "anything with heavenly in it sounds grand and impressive." 

Tang Yuqiu had considered arguing against it, but his certainty— and perhaps a hint of reasoning—had quieted her objections, leaving her to concede.

The door creaked as Ling'er pushed it open, the scent of newly polished counters mingling with the subtle perfume samples she and Chen Ren had laboured over, hoping to entice even the most discerning of noses.

Tang Yuqiu inhaled deeply, a faint smile curving her lips despite the anxious flutter in her chest. Here, in this small shop nestled at the city's beating heart, was the chance to prove herself again. She just had to seize it.

She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves, and stepped through the doors of the shop. 

Inside, the sweet and musky aroma of the perfumes they had painstakingly crafted filled the air. Rows of wooden vials lined the shelves, each holding a different hue of liquid, from deep amber to a beautiful lavender. The perfumes gleamed under the soft glow of enchanted lanterns, their essence catching the light as if promising untold luxuries.

Two employees stood by the entrance, bowing deeply as she entered, their postures respectful yet confident.

They were young, well-groomed men with striking features— high cheekbones, clear skin, and sharp, symmetrical lines that would draw attention from any passerby.

Chen Ren had been insistent on hiring them. "If our main customers will be women," he had said with a sly grin, "then it's only wise to take advantage of pretty privilege."

Tang Yuqiu didn't entirely understand the term, but she had grasped the essence of his strategy. And she had to admit, the logic had merit; there was a charm to these handsome employees that could certainly sway a few extra purchases.

She acknowledged their greetings with a nod, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly at their well-practised, eager smiles. "Prepare for the launch," she instructed, her voice steady, but her heart still beating a little too fast.

The employees bowed again, promising to handle the preparations, and she turned towards the back of the shop, Ling'er trailing close behind.

They moved down a narrow hallway, the air gradually growing richer with the scents of herbs and spices. The fragrance shifted with each step— notes of sweet jasmine mingled with the sharpness of mint, followed by the earthy undertone of sandalwood. As they reached a larger chamber, Tang Yuqiu found herself standing in what Chen Ren had referred to as the "assembly line." It was a concept that seemed almost foreign to her, but she could see the efficiency in its design.

The room was filled with rows of workstations, each one dedicated to a different task in the perfume-making process. The employees, four in total, moved with focused precision, their hands deft and practised. 

Tang Yuqiu's gaze swept across the room, taking in each station.

At the first station, a worker sat with a woven basket brimming with freshly harvested herbs and blossoms. His hands moved deftly as he separated petals from stems, using a small sickle.

He hummed quietly as he worked, each cut releasing a fresh burst of scent into the air, his rhythm steady and unbroken.

Nearby, another employee sorted through piles of dried flowers and herbs, carefully removing impurities and shaking out any lingering dust. 

He then placed the ingredients into large earthen bowls, readying them for the next step. 

The third worker focused on the delicate task of essence extraction. He stood beside a set of gleaming brass stills, each one designed to draw out the essential oils from the prepared ingredients.

A thin stream of vapour drifted upward as he adjusted the heat with a precise touch, coaxing out the potent scents within. 

Further down the line, the final station held a worker who blended the extracted oils into carefully labelled wooden containers.

His hands moved with the care of a master painter, mixing drops of different oils with a pipette, creating fragrant symphonies that would later be fine-tuned and aged. 

Tang Yuqiu watched for a moment, the methodical movement of the workers soothing some of her lingering nerves.

There was something almost hypnotic about the way they worked, the low hum of the stills creating a steady rhythm in the room. It was a far cry from the chaotic struggles of her last venture; here, there was an order to things, a sense that each step had its place.

Ling'er shifted beside her, glancing at her with a faint smile. "The workers are diligent, Miss. Young master Chen Ren's plans seem to be coming together."

Tang Yuqiu nodded slowly, her eyes lingering on the careful process unfolding before her. "Yes... they are," she replied, the words softer than she intended. She wouldn't admit it openly, but in moments like these, it was hard not to see that Chen Ren's unorthodox methods carried a certain brilliance. Maybe, just maybe, this time things truly would be different.

Tang Yuqiu stood there for a moment, taking in the organised chaos of the perfume production line— workers moving between their stations with purpose, each task flowing seamlessly into the next. 

The methodical efficiency of it all, the streamlined process of turning raw herbs into delicate, refined fragrances, still amazed her.

Once again, her thoughts drifted to Chen Ren and the seemingly endless depths of his ingenuity. How had he come up with this production method?

It had allowed them to set up the shop in a fraction of the time she'd thought possible, turning what could have been a slow and arduous process into something swift and effective. Now, all that remained was for the people to come through those doors and experience their creations.

Turning back toward the front of the shop, Tang Yuqiu made her way to the counter where one of the employees stood. His posture straightened as she approached and asked, "Where is Chen Ren?"

The young man dipped his head respectfully before answering. "He was here earlier this morning, Miss Yuqiu. He checked over everything, made sure the batches were in order, and then left, saying he needed to start marketing."

At that, Tang Yuqiu paused, her brow furrowing slightly.

She knew a few aspects of Chen Ren's plan— he had gathered a group of children to distribute pamphlets across the city, small sheets of paper listing their perfume varieties, prices, and a promise of discounts for the first visitors.

It was a simple enough strategy, one that would ensure their name spread quickly through the crowded streets. But she was certain there was more to his scheme than just this, some other tactic or trick that he had yet to share with her.

He had been evasive when she pressed him for details, simply offering a confident smile and saying, "You'll see the results of it. Just be patient." It was maddening, really— how he could speak with such assurance, as if he could already see the outcome while she struggled to envision the next few steps. 

She turned back to the employee, curiosity gnawing at her. "Did he leave any other instructions?"

The servant glanced at the ground for a moment, considering, before he shook his head. "He only said to make sure everything was in place, that the shop was stocked and the workers ready. And... that there would be a lot of customers by the end of the day." He hesitated before adding, "But we've been open for an hour now, and no one has come in yet."

Tang Yuqiu nodded slowly, a sigh slipping from her lips as she glanced towards the door. The empty street outside seemed to taunt her, the stillness contrasting sharply with the buzz of excitement and nerves in her chest.

She tried to swallow down the unease that bubbled up, but the silence of the shop seemed to magnify every doubt. The promise of a bustling crowd by day's end sounded more like a boast right now, a far-off hope.

Yet... there was something about Chen Ren's unwavering confidence, about the glint in his eyes when he spoke of this venture, that kept her from dismissing his words entirely. 

He wouldn't have made such a claim if he didn't have something planned. But what exactly could he be up to, out there in the city's winding alleys and crowded squares?

She clenched her hands at her sides, trying to maintain her composure in front of the staff. "We'll wait, then," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "Make sure everything stays ready. If he's right, we need to be prepared."

She forced herself to keep her gaze steady on the door, watching as a few passersby glanced at the shop's sign before moving on. What kind of marketing could he be doing?

The question lingered in her mind, an itch she couldn't quite scratch. As she waited, she couldn't help but wonder if, once again, Chen Ren's unexpected methods would turn the tide in their favour.

***

The air was thick with smoke as Bai Hu, the lord of the Bai Hu Trade Association, leaned back in his chair, lazily blowing out a stream of white smoke from his curved pipe. The scented haze swirled around him, filling the room with the rich aroma of rare herbs. He had always enjoyed the tranquillity that smoking brought, a small respite from the endless calculations of profit and trade. But today, his peace was interrupted by the sound of footsteps shuffling into his private chamber.

One of his associates stepped forward, bowing deeply before holding out a small, folded pamphlet. "My lord, the reports have been verified," the associate said, his voice careful, measured. "Tang Yuqiu of the Tang Clan has indeed opened a perfume shop in the city. The rumours were accurate— she's collaborating with a cultivator named Chen Ren, and they've promised to sell perfumes at less than half our prices."

The lord's eyes flicked upward at the mention, curiosity momentarily interrupting his languid repose. 

He took the pamphlet from the servant's outstretched hands, glancing down at the neatly printed prices and descriptions of fragrances. His lips curled into a mocking smirk as he examined the words Heavenly Fragrances.

"Chen Ren, is it?" he muttered, still staring at the paper. "What sect does he belong to? Could it be that the Soaring Sword Sect has decided to involve themselves with the Tang Clan now?"

The servant hesitated before shaking his head. "No, my lord. The man is sectless. Our sources say he's little more than a stray dog in the cultivation world. His only claim to fame seems to be a noodle shop he started a few months back. And he isn't strong— he lost to Li Xuan during the sect entrance examinations and nearly died. It's unlikely he'll have any significant backing or power."

Bai Hu leaned back, letting out a deep, rumbling laugh that shook the air. His amusement was palpable, echoing through the chamber. He set the pipe back to his lips, taking another leisurely puff before speaking. "A noodle seller, you say? Tang Yuqiu, that brainless girl, partnering with some nobody who couldn't even make it into a proper sect? Ha! The Tang Clan must have grown truly desperate if they're allowing her to throw away money like this."

His gaze turned sharp, disdain flickering in his eyes as he continued, "It's strange enough that Tang Yuqiu's father dotes on her so much. She should have been married off by now, serving some political purpose, but instead, he's letting her play at being a merchant, burning his coffers in the process." He paused, frowning at his own words. "Well, it's not my problem if he wants to ruin his own clan's finances. They'll pay for their folly soon enough."

The servant cleared his throat, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice. "What would you like us to do, my lord? Should we take any measures against this new shop?"

Bai Hu waved a dismissive hand, the smoke from his pipe swirling around his fingers. "Keep a close eye on them, but I doubt it will matter. In a month, their little venture will be closed, mark my words. Let them enjoy their brief moment of hope. And try to find out if any sect is helping them with these perfumes. Even a sectless nobody could be playing a deeper game. Get me a few samples of those too."

The servant bowed again and hurriedly left, leaving Bai Hu alone with his thoughts.

He took another slow draw from his pipe, letting the smoke seep into his lungs before releasing it in a steady stream. A lazy smirk played at his lips as he muttered to himself, "Any low-level cultivator thinks they can just waltz into the business world and make a name for themselves. The foolish lot, always dreaming, never understanding the true nature of the market."

He chuckled, shaking his head as if amused by some private joke. In his mind, the outcome was already certain— another upstart crushed beneath the weight of reality. And as the smoke curled in the air, it seemed to carry his confidence with it, drifting through the room like a shadow of his assuredness.

Chapter 25. Women and strategy

Mei Lian was the thirtieth daughter of an elder of the Soaring Sword Sect, yet that grand title masked a much humbler truth. Her mother had been a commoner, an innkeeper's daughter who had nursed her father back to health after he was wounded outside the sect's mountain gates during a mission. 

It was a liaison born of fleeting gratitude on his part and hope on hers— a brief affair that had resulted in her birth. But being a daughter of a big shot cultivator was no blessing for her. 

Her brother and sister, children of her father's favoured wives, had the elder's pride; she had only his name and, occasionally, a monthly allowance— a gift from a man who viewed her as one of his many, many obligations.

Even the day after it was discovered that she had some spark of cultivation talent, her father still gave her no extra attention.

Unlike her siblings, she had average skills and wasn't even admitted to the sect proper.

"A flower blooming on dry earth," her father had called her, with a strange, cool distance that made her heart shrivel as she bowed before him.

So, Mei Lian had turned from cultivation, her spirit bound not to lofty dreams of immortality but to simpler delights.

When her mother lamented her lack of ambition, Mei Lian countered that the pursuit of life's pleasures was, in itself, a noble quest. Pretty dresses, laughter with friends, glances from young men, the hum of a flute at a late-night party— she clung to these things as fiercely as her siblings clung to their swords and scrolls.

Yet, recently, she'd found herself drawn again and again to a place as humble as her mother's inn had once been: a small tea shop in the centre of the city. 

The shop had a warmth to it, the air filled with the fragrance of fresh tea leaves and ink-stained parchment. The source that took her attention, however, was not the tea itself but the stories told within its walls by an unusual young man named Chen Ren.

Chen Ren was hardly remarkable at first glance other than his face— average in stature, his robes plain like a normal cultivator. Yet he had the mind of a genius author.

She had fallen in love with his novel 'Liang Shan' and 'Hua Yun', the tale of romance, valour and tragedy igniting a wistful longing in Mei Lian's heart, one she hadn't known she possessed. But it was only a start.

Once he had found out that he had a small following, Chen Ren had started talking about different stories everyday. Out of all of them, she liked one named 'Ci De Rel' the best. 

Even if the name was strange, the contents of it were like one of a dream about a concubine's daughter's romance with a prince, and hearing Chen Ren talk about it made her feel like such a thing had really happened once. 

She'd found herself attending his readings daily, not just to hear the tales of love and tragedy but to watch the easy way he commanded his audience's attention.

Each line, each carefully well-thought word seemed to echo through her mind even long after she'd left the shop. And every time the tea shop's seats got filled with other affluent young ladies, she was one of the first to listen to his tales, and in some small way, that made her feel special. It gave her a sense of pride.

This afternoon, she made her way to the tea shop with light steps again, her heart lifting in anticipation.

As she entered, she found him where she had hoped, seated at the centre of a captivated crowd.

Chen Ren's presence was magnetic, and though he sat with effortless calm, his gaze was unwavering. He answered each question thrown his way with his eyes alight, taking time to select his words before telling— no, beautifully crafting yet another story. It was clear he revelled in his role as the shop's storyteller.

Around him, young ladies of various stations leaned forward, and some young men sat a short distance away, casting envious glances at him and, occasionally, at her as she entered. 

She caught a few of those glances herself but brushed them aside, making her way toward Chen Ren. The voices softened as she drew near, and though he barely acknowledged her at first, she could almost feel his awareness of her presence.

Today, perhaps, there would be another story that would keep her up at night in her delusions. 

As Mei Lian approached Chen Ren, she halted, catching an unexpected sweetness in the air. 

It was faint at first, like the barest hint of spring blossoms, but as she stepped closer, the scent grew stronger and richer, wrapping around her senses until she could barely think of anything else.

Her eyes flickered down to the wooden bottles arranged before him, each one assembled neatly, with swirling patterns along their polished surfaces that signed at something rare and precious within. She noticed the symbol of a golden coin and dragon etched on their surface. 

Chen Ren's gaze caught hers, and he lifted a hand in greeting, his lips curving into a smile that made her heart skip a beat.

"Mei Lian," he called, his voice warm and inviting. "You're finally here. I have something to show you."

She approached with curiosity, unable to resist asking, "Is it... perfume you're wearing? I haven't smelled anything quite like it."

Chen Ren's smile deepened, and he gave a small, knowing nod.

"Of course you haven't," he replied. "You remember that scene from the 'Liang Shan' and 'Hua Yun' story I told last month, the one where Hua Yun wore a special fragrance during her second meeting with Liang Shan?"

The memory sprang to life in her mind— the daring mission that brought the star-crossed couple together, the female lead's bold choice to wear a rare perfume that left the male lead captivated, their paths colliding in secret under the moonlight.

"Yes, I remember," she murmured, recalling how she and the other girls had sighed over the romantic tension of that scene. "That perfume was a rare treasure— its production method rumoured to be lost for centuries."

"Exactly." Chen Ren's eyes sparkled. "The method for creating it is long forgotten by most, but my clan once practised this art. These perfumes you see here…" he gestured to the wooden bottles, "were made using the same technique. Even the priciest spiritual perfumes can't compare."

Curiosity drew her hand to one of the bottles, her fingers brushing the smooth wood as she carefully lifted it to her nose.

The aroma that greeted her was even more intoxicating up close— a blend of warmth, spice, and floral notes so perfectly balanced that it seemed to melt into her senses. She closed her eyes, savouring the fragrance, her pulse quickening as a soft blush warmed her cheeks.

"That one," Chen Ren said with a faint grin, "is called Opulent Breeze. It's a blend of rare blossoms and subtle herbs that make it almost... irresistible. It has quite the effect on the opposite gender— a nudge, if you will, toward a bit of extra attention."

Mei Lian's heart fluttered. She couldn't help the intrigue that bubbled within her at the thought. "So… if someone were to wear this around someone they liked, it might just work?"

"Precisely," Chen Ren replied, his gaze meeting hers, steady and amused. "Think of it as an ancient charm, refined to speak to the male heart. I don't know if it will make the person fall for you, but they would certainly give you more than a look. I'm sure there's someone each of you has in mind, after all."

At Chen Ren's words, a wave of murmurs and blushing faces swept through the crowd.

Mei Lian could feel the weight of several gazes fixed on the bottle in her hands— eager, almost predatory glances from the other girls who seemed to share her newly found interest in the perfume's promise. Even she couldn't help but wonder, Could it really work?

Involuntarily, her thoughts drifted to Li Xuan, her father's favoured disciple and the son of the City Lord— a man of notable standing and graceful bearing, one she had glimpsed only a handful of times but thought of more than she would ever admit.

Compared to him, her standing was meagre, her cultivation weak; she was a flower in the shadows, hardly worthy of his gaze. But perhaps, just perhaps, this perfume could change things, giving her the boldness she'd always lacked, perhaps even a chance to bridge the distance between them. It would be a dream come true. 

Still contemplating, she looked at Chen Ren and asked, "Are you selling these?"

As if on cue, the other girls echoed her question, each of them leaning in eagerly.

Chen Ren flashed them a charming smile, casually leaning back as if he hadn't just turned their thoughts upside down. "Yes, indeed. I wouldn't keep such methods to myself— it would be a shame if only I had kept the pleasure of such scents, right? So, I've opened a perfume shop. Naturally, as a virtuous man who values fairness and has no desire to be greedy, I've set the price modestly, at only five to eight silver wen for each bottle. I'd be earning just enough to cover my costs, really."

Mei Lian's eyes widened. Five to eight silver wen? Her own perfumes, stored carefully at home, had cost her twenty-five silver wen each, far too precious to use liberally.

Each bottle represented weeks of saving, her indulgences carefully rationed for only the most special of occasions. And yet here was Chen Ren, offering a perfume with charm and allure beyond anything she'd worn, and for a mere fraction of the price.

As she mulled this over, Chen Ren's voice drew her from her thoughts. "So, how about it?" he asked, his tone as smooth as the fragrance lingering in the air. "Would you all care to take a short walk to my shop? You can browse and see which perfumes suit you best."

The girls' excitement was palpable, some of them already half-rising from their seats in anticipation. Before anyone else could respond, Mei Lian blurted out, "Yes, please!"

The other girls quickly voiced their agreement, some flashing her envious glances as if she had been the first to discover a hidden treasure. Chen Ren chuckled softly, giving an amused look over them all. With a gesture that was equal parts flourish and invitation, he signalled them to follow him. 

***

Chen Ren stood in the middle of his perfume shop, surrounded by the wafting scents of floral and herbal blends that filled the air. His gaze drifted over the group of young misses clustered around, their faces flushed with excitement as they lifted the small bottles displayed, sampling them with an air of reverence.

Some of them shot occasional glances toward the staff's handsome features, who, to their credit, maintained a professional stance, allowing no interference beyond what was needed to assist.

Chen Ren smirked inwardly, pleased with their discipline. The last thing he needed was anything untoward disrupting the sense of mystique he'd worked so hard to create.

It was almost laughable how easily it had all come together. Selling perfumes, as it turned out, was even simpler than selling noodles— and it was all thanks to a single idea that had dawned on him when he'd first found himself surrounded by those curious, enamoured young women at the tea shop. 

All he'd needed to do was convince them that his perfumes were the same ones from the stories he'd told. A rare blend, a lost art— these words were enough for them to follow him to his shop with starry eyes, ready to make him richer. 

Just as he was revelling in the success of his little scheme, he caught Tang Yuqiu's gaze from across the room, her expression somewhere between amusement and suspicion. The look was enough to prompt a raised eyebrow from him.

"What's that look about?" he asked, unable to hold back a smirk.

Tang Yuqiu folded her arms. "Oh, nothing. It's just... for a moment, I almost forgot you were a hedonist," she replied, a hint of teasing in her tone. "The way you've been acting these past few weeks, I half-expected you'd forgotten it too. But it seems I was wrong."

Chen Ren chuckled, feigning offence as he tilted his head. "Now, is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?"

"Both," she shot back, grinning. Her gaze shifted to the young ladies, each lost in her own cloud of fragrance. "Though, I have to admit, you've surprised me. How on earth did you manage to gather this crowd? I know a few of them— they're not the type to just fool around with any guy."

"There's no fooling around here," he answered smoothly, as if offended by the suggestion. "I happen to frequent the same tea shop as them, and, well, I simply befriended them. A few words, a hint of promise, a sample or two, and they were ready to come see the real thing." He cast a meaningful glance over the crowd, his eyes gleaming with a quiet confidence. "But the real business starts now."

She tilted her head, intrigued. "And what exactly does that mean?" 

A sense of satisfaction filled him with her question, but it wasn't just about the perfumes; it was about the next step. He glanced at Tang Yuqiu, his lips curling into a faint smile. 

"Word of mouth," he said, gesturing subtly toward the ladies. "These young misses will go to parties and gatherings, and others will notice the scents. It'll spread to the ladies in their families, then their friends— and soon, everyone will know. Between that and the pamphlets we are already distributing, it won't be long before the middle-class ladies are drawn in too. If you don't know, the middle class always wants to appear richer than what they are and our prices are low enough for them to have that chance. And once that happens, we'll barely have enough staff to keep up with the demand."

Tang Yuqiu raised an eyebrow, her scepticism clear. "Sounds like a dream."

He chuckled. "Well, it's happening right in front of you." His gaze sharpened. "But don't forget what I said before— vultures will come. We're eating into their market share, and they won't let that go without a fight. They'll try to block us or copy our methods. Their prices are too high for anyone but the wealthy, so they can't compete with what we're offering here."

She considered his words, nodding slowly. "So you're sure they'll retaliate?"

"Oh, I'm certain," he replied confidently. "If this goes the way I think it will, we'll take a big chunk of their market and expand it at the same time. But I have to admit." His eyes glinted with amusement. "I'd love to be there when they finally realise what's happening. I'm sure they're just expecting us to flop. Imagine their faces in a week when they see our business flourishing and realise it's already too late."

Tang Yuqiu stifled a laugh, smirking as she looked at him. "That would be funny and we will be ready when they come for us."

"Oh, we will," he replied smoothly, his voice steady as he watched the customers around them. "In the meantime, let's see just how far word of mouth will take us."

Chapter 26. Xianxia staple young master

The week flew by in a flurry of scents, simmering broths, physical training and evening reading. His attention was required for one thing after another, or sometimes, two or more things at the same time. 

Chen Ren had hoped that this cultivation world might have had its own sense of time—perhaps longer hours or slower days— but it turned out that even here, a day only granted twenty-four hours.

With his noodle stall running each morning, perfume shop drawing an endless stream of eager customers, training with Yalan and late nights spent poring over dusty scrolls in the teahouse, he barely had a moment to breathe, let alone some alone time. 

Even the thought itself made him sigh out loud. 

Were it not for Tang Xiulan, who was handling the busy hours at the stall and the children continuing the marketing process as they had been told, or Tang Yuqiu and her staff managing the perfume shop's customers' demands, he would have been stretched to his breaking point. 

If anything, it had been humbling to know that even with his cultivation, he still had his limits. He realised that true power wasn't in individual strength, but having people to rely on. 

Even if he couldn't trust everyone with his secrets, there were enough people that he could delegate tasks that he didn't want to do himself. 

His thoughts frequently drifted to forming his own sect, to have a force of loyal individuals to carry out his will, protect his interests and push his vision forward. But the price tag for even beginning to establish a sect was steep.

The going rate was ten low grade spirit stones, a fortune he hadn't yet amassed. One low-grade spirit stone alone was worth about one hundred silver wen— an amount that might sustain a family of four for a few months. And with two businesses that he had just started and the debt to Feng Ming that he hadn't cleared, he had no extra wen lying around to invest in a sect. Not until he started to get the profit from his perfume business. 

For now, that dream would have to remain on hold.

He would look for ways to get into an unofficial sect status for the time being. Yet with all the busy days and never-ending customers, there was one other change that hadn't been expected— a noticeable shift in his own cultivation.

At first, it was a subtle pulse, a faint ripple of qi awakening within him whenever his perfume shop made a sale. 

He could barely feel its power, but weirdly enough, he somehow knew that it had always been there. It felt somewhat like an organ— like a part of him. 

But with each passing day, every time he witnessed how more customers filled in with an eagerness that quite matched his enthusiasm about his businesses, the pulse strengthened like it absorbed something from the growing popularity around him.

Unsurprisingly, Yalan had also taken notice. 

One afternoon, Chen Ren stood behind the counter of his perfume shop, a quiet satisfaction settling over him as he watched the bustling scene before him. His gaze swept across the crowd, each person moving with purpose through the newly displayed batches of perfumes. At least twenty women of all ages browsed the shelves, their eyes lighting up as they took in the liquids that glistened like jewels in the soft afternoon light. 

He couldn't help but notice how some of them hesitated near the more exclusive perfume bottles— the ones that sat on polished wooden stands, slightly elevated above the rest. 

Those were priced higher, their labels embossed with noticeable silver lettering, each scent more luxurious than the last. Fingers hovered, eyes lingered, and Chen Ren could see the spark of temptation flickering within them.

The white-furred cat sat primly on the countertop beside him, her amber eyes blinking slowly as she followed his eyes. But it seemed that the bustling customers weren't her concern. 

"You're very close to a breakthrough," Yalan noted, her tail swishing elegantly. "Very… Very close." 

Chen Ren's attention was immediately withdrawn from the customers. 

"At this rate, you might even jump two stars in the body forging realm if this flow of qi continues."

Chen Ren's mouth tilted into a smirk, his eyes once again going back to the patrons that milled around, sniffing perfumes and discussing their favourite scent among the ones that were there. Tang Yuqiu and her staff moved briskly, trying to keep up with the influx of customers. 

The middle-class ladies had arrived just as he'd planned, dressed in their simpler clothing but with eyes just as eager as the more affluent young misses. He saw a trio among the crowd even trying to push other women away to get to try out one of the scents. He could only hope that there would be no bloodshed. But anyway, the word of mouth had done its work, bringing them to his door without so much as a single gold coin spent on advertisements. 

Chen Ren glanced at Yalan, his thoughts stirring as he observed the faint glow of the qi entering his body. "I didn't see such a rapid boost with the noodle stall, when I was doing my best to keep it afloat," he spoke internally, watching the cat as she stretched lazily atop the counter. "Could it be the big amounts of profit this shop is making?"

Yalan tilted her head and gave him a wry look. "Perhaps," she purred, and answered him through his mind. "Though there are always other factors. Each path in the dao has countless layers. But if more profits with every new business are going to spur your progress, then I'd say you should be launching a new venture every month."

Chen Ren let out a soft, wry chuckle. If someone looked at him, it would appear as if he was laughing alone and would term him as crazy. Thankfully, everyone was busy doing their own stuff, some more serious than the others. He quickly composed himself and looked at Yalan. "That's moving a bit fast. It takes time to manage things, you know. It's not as easy as you say."

Yalan's eyes gleamed, and her whiskers twitched with amusement. "Not like you're targeting cultivators here. Mortals are easier— less likely to send you flying if they're unhappy with your products.

He shook his head. He could think of a lot of scenarios where the will of mortals could overpower cultivators. Even if this world didn't have anything such as firearms, bombs and nukes, there were a lot of influential mortals too.

"Some mortals have a certain power. Of course not in qi or cultivation techniques, but when it comes to wealth and reputation? They can be just as dangerous. Moreover, there are always weapons that would be able to kill cultivators in one go."

Yalan gave him an odd look. "What type of weapons would those be? I have never heard of something like that." 

Before Chen Ren could respond and go over the history of his own world where guns had changed the whole warring scene, a middle aged woman in modest but neatly kept robes approached the counter, holding a perfume bottle with an air of curiosity. Her height was what he noticed at first.

She was extremely tall, taller than Chen Ren, but he could tell that she was a mortal. And not a wealthy one. 

Her eyes lingered on him for a few seconds. He cleared his throat, and she immediately broke her trance and nodded to the bottle in her hands. 

"Hello," she said, her voice laced with hesitance. "Could you tell me the price of this? And… perhaps a bit about its qualities?"

Chen Ren's eyes brightened with a salesman's zeal, and he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice just enough to capture the woman's attention. "This fragrance is designed to leave a subtle, lingering impression on others. Some even say it has a faint charm for drawing admiration from the opposite gender. Let's say it makes you smell.. Mysterious. People will take a second look at you… And the best part? It is only eight wen!"

The woman's cheeks tinged with a rosy blush, and she chuckled, slightly embarrassed. "Oh, that's… charming, but I'm hardly in my youth anymore for such tricks."

Chen Ren frowned at that. "Youth? What does that entail to you because you look great… and madam, if I were seeking someone, I'd be honoured to ask for your hand." He delivered it smoothly, a practised compliment with just enough sincerity to make her laugh, a delighted twinkle in her eye.

"Oh, you are a charmer!" she said, the blush deepening as she fished out her silver and placed it on the counter. She glanced down at Yalan, her hand extending to pet the cat.

Yalan's tail flicked in warning, and with an indignant hiss, she ducked just out of reach. The woman quickly withdrew her hand, casting Chen Ren an apologetic look as she bustled out of the shop. It happened too quickly as the woman practically fled from the shop. 

Once she was gone, Chen Ren raised an eyebrow at Yalan. "A little more courtesy with the customers wouldn't hurt, you know."

Yalan sniffed, grooming her fur with a practised swipe of her tongue. "My fur requires… maintenance. Not just anyone can touch it." She held her head high. "It takes time to set it." 

"Set in? How do you even set in your… fur?"

"Glorious spit, how else? It's a task for higher beings alone."

Chen Ren chuckled, shaking his head with amusement. But the moment didn't last; his laughter faded as he caught sight of Tang Yuqiu weaving her way purposefully through the shop, slipping between customers with her usual grace and stopping in front of a worker.

They talked for a brief moment and her expression shifted. Almost as on cue, she looked directly at Chen Ren and started marching towards him.

There was an urgency in her stride, a subtle tension in the set of her shoulders. When their eyes met again, her gaze locked onto his. Chen Ren felt a ripple of curiosity stir within him. Whatever the worker had told her there, wasn't a small matter.

He straightened, his casual stance shifting as he prepared himself for the news she clearly carried.

"What's going on?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice steady from sounding too curious.

Tang Yuqiu stepped closer and said with a low voice. "I just received a report. The Bai Hu Trade Association's head isn't pleased. It seems they've noticed our little shop's success."

Chen Ren's expression darkened slightly. "And the Cang Clan? They're bound to have caught wind by now too."

"They are watching us quietly, but I don't think they will do anything. Their perfume business is just one of their many holdings, and they're not eager to lose any relationship with the Tang Clan. But Bai Hu… he doesn't care. Their entire brand revolves around perfumes, so he can't afford to just sit back while we grow. It's only a matter of time before they make a move."

Chen Ren nodded. "So it begins. One week of peace and prosperity was more than I expected."

Tang Yuqiu looked at him expectantly. "So… what do you plan to do?"

"For now? Nothing," Chen Ren said with a casual shrug, though a glint of calculation sparked in his eyes. "We've prepared for most things they might attempt, but their opening move will reveal the rest of their strategy. They can't come at us legally, so they're left with a handful of unsavoury options: try to sabotage our supply chain, poach our staff to sniff out our methods, tarnish our reputation with slander, or… resort to a full-blown assault." He paused, his gaze sharpening as his thoughts spun. "Or maybe they'll try all of them at once. If they're rattled enough, they'll throw everything they've got our way."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "But no matter what angle they take, it's going to be interesting to watch them squirm." 

His fingers tapped on the countertop in a rhythmic beat, as if already counting down the inevitable.

***

The tension in the Bai Hu Trade Association's headquarters was thick enough to cut with a knife. President Bai Hu slammed his fist down on the polished mahogany table, causing a stack of reports to scatter, their pages fluttering in the sudden silence. His face was red with fury, and his sharp gaze swept over the assembled staff, each word he spoke laced with rage.

"How could this happen?" he barked, his voice echoing inside his office. "Over a hundred customers in just a week buying from them!" he snarled, his voice thick with disbelief and simmering anger. "Even high society is abuzz with talk of these so-called 'new perfumes.' Most of them wouldn't touch the stuff themselves, of course— they consider the low price beneath them! But then tell me, how in the heavens are they managing to sell so much? Are the middle class just buying anything now?" 

He threw a scornful look at the perfume samples scattered on the table, eyes narrowing as if each bottle mocked him with its success. "Have they found some secret formula to draw in customers by the droves? Can anyone explain this absurdity to me?"

A junior associate tentatively raised his hand, clearing his throat before he spoke. He visibly shrank back to his seat when Bai Hu's eyes fell on him.

"Speak!"

"Sir, like you said, it's mostly due to their appeal among middle-class women. The prices make it affordable, and their numbers are high. Even if they've barely grazed our upper-tier clientele, they're pulling in a whole new market segment."

"Market segment," Bai Hu snarled, his fists clenching. "I fucking couldn't care less about segments. The longer they're out there selling, the closer they get to producing something aimed at our premium brands, and when they do… they'll eat into our market share. That rogue cultivator is making a fool of us!"

He seized a bottle his staff had managed to acquire from Heavenly Fragrances, holding it up with a look of utter disdain. Turning it over in his hand, he scrutinised the plain wooden casing and the design of the golden coin with the dragon around it, his lips curling in disgust. "Look at this!" he sneered, voice dripping with contempt. "Not a single trace of qi, not a whisper of spiritual energy— nothing! And yet it's selling like wildfire! How are they pulling this off with something so… ordinary?"

He huffed, setting the bottle down with an angry clink as he continued, "It's absurd! Those middle-class women have no discernment at all—they don't care about spiritual refinement, only that they smell better than a street rat!" The thought gnawed at him, his fingers tapping furiously on the table as he spat, "They might as well be selling coloured water in a glass jar, and those fools would still line up to buy it!" 

President Bai Hu's staff exchanged glances, their tension palpable as they hesitated before one brave soul stepped forward, voice wary but steady. "So… what should we do, sir?"

Bai Hu's eyes narrowed, and he took a deep breath, the frustration in his expression slowly giving way to something more calculating. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the anger running through every cell of his body. But he must control his feelings—he needed to be logical. "I'm thinking," he replied.

At that moment, the door opened with a quiet click, and a tall, striking young man strode in.

His features were a reflection of Bai Hu's own, only younger, sharper, and cut with an elegance that drew a second look. Dark eyes glittered beneath perfectly arched brows, and a confident smirk played across his lips as he bowed in respect. "Father, allow me to take care of this matter."

Bai Hu's eyebrows shot up, his gaze hardening. "And what exactly are you saying, Bai Shen? You do realise this isn't some trivial issue. It's a business threat— one I can't afford to let slide."

Bai Shen met his father's intense gaze with an unflinching calm. "I'm aware, Father. That's precisely why I want to handle it. All I've been doing is just overseeing some of our shops. It's time I learn to face real competition. If I am to take over the Bai Hu Trade Association someday, I need this experience. Please, let me handle this."

A flicker of thought passed through Bai Hu's eyes as he weighed his son's words. He was right, he needed this experience and if Bai Hu knew anything, it was that they both were cut from the same cloth. Like him, his son wouldn't hold back at any kinds of threat. After a long moment, he nodded, his voice slow and firm. 

"Very well, then. You're free to proceed as you see fit. But be clear-minded and deliberate. I want Heavenly Fragrances out of business as soon as possible. Understood?"

Bai Shen's smirk widened as he gave a slight bow. "I understand perfectly, Father. I'll make sure they're wiped off the map." He straightened, his voice carrying a quiet conviction, and without further words, he turned and left the office.

The rest of the staff looked at his fleeting back, taking a sigh of relief, thinking they had escaped their boss' screaming. 

***

Outside, Bai Shen stopped on the stone steps, his gaze lifting to the skies. The clouds were thick, covering the sun as it struggled to pierce through. He smirked, his eyes dark with a simmering ambition.

"Tang Yuqiu," he muttered under his breath, voice laced with venom, "you dared to turn down my proposal, only to seek solace with some rogue cultivator. You think you can rise without me? Foolish. I'll see to it that you fall— and fall hard." His fingers clenched, his voice dropping to a whisper. "When that day comes, the only hand you'll reach for will be mine. And when I have you, the Tang Clan will fall to me as well." 

With a final smirk, Bai Shen turned on his heel, his stride confident, already savouring the power he envisioned within his grasp.