Chapter 27. Absolute Might
Heavenly Fragrances grew larger with each passing day. The name itself became familiar in the city's middle-class households. The rapid development within such a short time was unusual, but Chen Ren had expected this would happen. What had started as whispers of an exotic yet affordable perfume soon became an uproar. Each happy customer seemed to pull another into its fold, and soon, Heavenly Fragrances was on every discerning lady's lips— quite literally, a scent too captivating to ignore.
The social circles of the middle-class women, notorious for their close-knit networks and strong influence, became a web for the perfume's fame to flourish.
Something common with these sorts of circles was that they wouldn't hype up just any product, and when they did— it became the talk of their gatherings, regaling each other with stories of compliments they received, and the sense of sophistication the perfume imparted.
The fragrance was no longer just a simple luxury; it was now a trend that every middle class woman should have.
So eager not to fall behind, more women found themselves splurging on the fragrant indulgence. Some spent more than they could comfortably afford, all for the allure of being part of this new trend.
A single bottle of Heavenly Fragrances had quickly become more than just a scent— it was a statement, a piece of prestige, and every woman who wore it felt just a little bit more enchanted.
A chain reaction had begun, and every purchase, every conversation, rippled outward, drawing in more and more. But Chen Ren didn't sit back and let word of mouth do all the work.
He actively drove the demand, laying down the foundation for Heavenly Fragrances' growing fame.
The initial wave of interest had come from his strategic pamphlets and the tea house promotion, where his marketing through his stories had paved the way.
Mei Lin's small crew had been hired to distribute the pamphlets around the city, especially near the residential streets where most of the middle class lived. Yet he knew that to sustain momentum, he would need more than just initial curiosity.
The tea shop promotion had a limited reach, with mostly upper-class ladies visiting regularly, and while they had shown some interest, the perfumes had yet to gain a strong foothold in elite circles.
This left Chen Ren considering his next steps. If the tea house had helped plant the seeds, then he would need other community hubs to see his idea fully bloom. So, he decided to take his marketing efforts further, focusing on areas where groups of women gathered together regularly.
***
Standing outside a small seamstress's shop, Chen Ren crossed his arms and observed the scene inside. Through the open doors, he could see women gathered in clusters, their chatter filling the air as they waited for their clothes to be mended.
An elderly seamstress sat in the centre, her hands deftly weaving stitches into a worn robe. Yet, for once, the women's eyes were not on the seamstress's skillful hands. Instead, they were all focused on Tang Xiulan, who stood confidently in the middle of the room, her calm presence commanding their attention. She stood straight, her hands moving in the air every time she spoke— but her movements were graceful, well-rehearsed, if anything.
From his position, Chen Ren couldn't make out every word, but he could see the spell she was weaving on her audience. Tang Xiulan held one of Heavenly Fragrances' bottles in her hand, her fingers gliding gracefully over its simple yet elegant design. Her smile was warm and inviting as she tilted the bottle, and one of the ladies gasped softly, eyes widening with interest.
The ladies murmured excitedly among themselves, nudging one another with anticipation as they watched Tang Xiulan.
Chen Ren could see how carefully she controlled the moment, waiting until the woman's attention was thoroughly piqued before explaining the scent. Her natural charm was working wonders, and from the way the ladies hung on her every word, he could already imagine half of them purchasing a bottle by the end of the afternoon.
Chen Ren's lips curved into a satisfied smile. He folded his arms and let out a low chuckle to himself. Heavenly Fragrances might have started as an experiment, but it was quickly turning into his strongest asset.
He watched patiently as Tang Xiulan charmed the small crowd in the shop, her words soft and compelling as she shared the tales behind Heavenly Fragrances' latest scent.
He noticed that even from a distance, a faint but captivating aroma surrounded her, lingering in the air and adding an effortless allure to her presence. In the end, she took out one of their newer scents— Swan's Velvet.
The wooden bottle was filled with a scent that would make anyone take a second look at the wearer— sweet, floral, and enchanting. She muttered something and twisted the bottle for the ladies to see. Then, she extended it to arm's length and sprinkled once, twice, and thrice.
The ladies around her gasped and clutched each other, some even closing their eyes and inhaling deeply.
The exaggerated reaction made Chen Ren smile. The newest perfume always had that effect on them, no matter where they went.
He turned around from looking inside the shop and waited for Tang Xiulan to come out. Soon, the floral scent filled his nostrils and looked back to see her petite figure.
"How did that go?" Chen Ren asked.
She immediately wiped a bit of sweat from her forehead, exhaling a small sigh as she looked up at Chen Ren. "Young master, please tell me that was the last shop. I think I've talked about perfumes enough for an entire month— I'm exhausted."
Chen Ren smiled, nodding approvingly. "You did an amazing job, Xiulan. And yes, that was the last one for today. I believe that should be more than enough to keep the word spreading for now." His gaze shifted back toward the women now buzzing amongst themselves. "The way they were looking at you, I could practically see the envy in their eyes. It's clear they noticed how nice you smelled."
She chuckled and nodded. "They were. And when I mentioned how things between me and my husband had been going so well since I started using it, they looked like they'd make a beeline to Heavenly Fragrances the second they left here." She gave a small laugh, then sighed. "I suppose I'm getting better at lying or as you call it— Stretching the truth."
Chen Ren's grin widened as he nodded knowingly. "It's all part of business. Besides, we're not lying about the quality of the product itself. It's just good storytelling." He paused, glancing at the street beyond the shop. "Let's head back. I think you've more than earned a break today."
She raised an eyebrow, looking slightly concerned. "What about the stall? I closed it before coming here, but won't we miss the evening wave?"
Chen Ren shrugged. "It's just one evening. We'll manage without it, and you've been working hard lately. You should get some rest."
Tang Xiulan seemed to relax a bit, her usual brisk frontier softened. "Well… thank you, Young Master. I'll be ready to start again right where I left off tomorrow."
She nodded at her own words, and they continued down the bustling street toward the store.
As they walked, Chen Ren glanced at her, a slight guilt tightening his chest. Yes, he wanted money— plenty of it, in fact—but he understood that the true lifeblood of a successful business lay in the well-being of its people.
The health, both physical and mental, of everyone working alongside him mattered far more than the allure of quick profits. He could see the toll the long hours were taking on Tang Xiulan; she had been managing the stall on her own far too often, juggling the demands of customers and the intricacies of the business without a moment's rest.
Today, allowing her a break felt like a small, yet significant step toward easing his conscience.
It was a chance for her to recharge, to step back from the relentless pace they had set, and it felt right.
He knew that a content and well-rested employee was far more valuable than a few extra coins in the till. As he watched her wipe the sweat from her brow, he felt a swell of determination; if he was to build something lasting and meaningful, he needed to ensure that the people who helped him achieve that were supported and cared for, not just as workers, but as individuals with their own lives and needs.
They continued to walk. Although a silence threatened to come between them, Tang Xiulan broke it by talking about the recent developments.
"The Bai Hu Trade Association has been awfully quiet for the last two days. Do you think they're letting this go?" she said, a touch of concern in her voice.
Chen Ren shook his head thoughtfully. "No, I doubt it. They're definitely up to something; we just don't know what yet. They're probably trying to gather information— figuring out if any sect is backing us and getting a feel for our resources. We use such a different method from what they know that it's bound to raise questions. But sooner or later, they'll make their move."
She nodded, smiling slightly. "You're good at coming up with possible theories of what might happen."
He chuckled. "I just try to consider every possible angle. It's a habit I picked up in school."
Xiulan tilted her head curiously. "School?"
Oh well.
For a brief moment, Chen Ren hesitated, he spoke too soon. Schools weren't common in this world and only the wealthier clans or scholar households knew how to read and write, and passed it to their children through private lessons. But the feeling soon turned to a pang of homesickness. "Yeah… there was one in the city I was born in," he said vaguely, glancing ahead as the storefront came into view. "But anyway, let's see how the store is doing today."
Good save, he mentally patted himself in the back and entered Heavenly Fragrances.
The shop still had a few customers, checking over the perfumes with the staff gently explaining everything about them, but rather than them, his eyes focused more on Tang Yuqiu at the counter, her brow furrowed in concentration as she spoke with an older man.
He knew who the man was— Elder Qiu, the leader of the gathering community they were using to procure herbs.
Elder Qiu had his arms crossed in front of him as he spoke in a very low tone— his voice just enough for only the pair to hear. His expression matched Tang Yuqiu's serious expression, and the two appeared deep in conversation, exchanging words that seemed to weigh heavily between them.
Chen Ren's heart sank as he observed the intensity of their discussion. One look at their serious expressions told him everything he needed to know: something had gone wrong.
He turned to Tang Xiulan, "Looks like one of the scenarios I thought of has already come knocking."
***
Chen Ren, Tang Yuqiu, and Elder Qiu stepped back a bit, allowing the extremely lively store's noise to fade as they moved into a quieter corner, inside their storage room. Chen Ren observed Elder Qiu's worried expression and waited, letting the older man gather his words.
"I'm assuming another group of gatherers has started taking all the herbs we need," Chen Ren said, prompting him.
Elder Qiu gave a heavy nod, his expression darkening as he leaned closer. "Yes, Young Master, they turned up just yesterday, but they're relentless— practically stripping the area of every useful herb. As it stands, no permit is needed for these common plants, so by law, they have every right to gather them… but they've taken it further. They've positioned themselves in all our regular gathering spots, intercepting us and making it clear that any attempt to collect there will be met with consequences." He hesitated, a glint of frustration in his eyes. "They don't just imply retribution; they threaten it outright if any of us so much as set foot nearby."
Tang Yuqiu's eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Have you gone to the city guards about it?"
"We have, but they refused to help," Elder Qiu replied, frustration seeping into his voice. "They claim their duty ends at the city limits and won't risk venturing into the forest to interfere. All they know, the men haven't broken any laws."
Tang Yuqiu scowled, her brow furrowing deeply. "Perhaps we could send the Tang Clan guards with you?"
Elder Qiu considered her offer, nodding slowly. "It would help, Miss Yuqiu… but I worry it might just escalate things into a full confrontation. Their numbers are significant— about three dozen, quite a few of them are heavily armed. If we can't access our usual areas, we'd have to go deeper into the forest, and that would bring the risk of higher-tier beasts."
Chen Ren nodded at Elder Qiu, understanding where he was coming from. If they sent guards with him, a conflict was surely going to start and the gathering community would be caught pretty badly in it.
He didn't want such a thing.
"For now, stay clear of them. Focus on identifying who they are and report back," Chen Ren said. "We'll give you further instructions once we know what we're dealing with."
With a respectful nod, Elder Qiu departed, leaving Chen Ren and Tang Yuqiu in a thoughtful silence. Chen Ren's gaze hardened as he turned to her. "Looks like I was right. They're targeting our supply lines."
She nodded, looking troubled. "I could still send our guards, but three dozen is no small number. A confrontation might not end well for us."
Chen Ren smiled faintly. "Seems the Bai Hu Trade Association isn't underestimating us anymore. But that's exactly why we secured several months' worth of supplies in advance. They'll find it harder than they think to hurt us."
Tang Yuqiu's eyes gleamed with a mixture of admiration and relief as she nodded, her confidence in him visibly reinforced.
Her lips curved into a nod of approval as Chen Ren opened the hefty container that was in the back of them. Inside, tightly packed heaps of dried herbs filled the space, their subtle, earthy scents mixing in the air. Chen Ren smirked, tapping the side of the container before gesturing around the room, where similar crates were stacked nearly to the ceiling, filled with months' worth of essential supplies.
"If the Bai Hu Trade Association thinks they can stop us by cutting off our supplies," he said with a glint of confidence in his eye, "they're in for a surprise."
As he inspected the crates, he turned back to Tang Yuqiu. "So, how's the planting coming along?"
A hint of pride sparkled in her eyes. "Better than expected, actually. We've successfully planted common herb varieties around our rice fields. They're taking well to the soil, growing strong on the northern side of the city where we've fortified our lands. It's safe from Bai Hu Trade association's reach, too."
Chen Ren's grin widened, satisfaction blooming across his face. They'd planned this well.
From the start, he'd anticipated the possibility of trouble with supply chains, especially from a competitor as large and well-established as the Bai Hu Trade Association. It was why he'd pressed Tang Yuqiu to invest in a significant stockpile, securing enough herbs to meet production demands for several months. It had been a large investment, one that had initially seemed excessive, but he'd insisted, confident that preparation would give them an upper hand.
And he hadn't just left it at that. There had been a second plan which was the plantation.
By redirecting resources to plant common herbs within the Tang Clan's rice farms, they'd established a long-term, self-sustaining source of supply. In a few months, by the time their stored herbs ran low, those plants would be ready for harvest. Their supply would be safe, secure, and best of all— untouchable by their competition.
"Good work, Yuqiu," he said, his tone approving. "Once those herbs are ready, we'll be nearly untouchable. They'll have wasted all their efforts, and we'll still be growing." Chen Ren smirked, a glint of mischief in his eye as he crossed his arms. "Let's see how they react once they realise choking our supply chain doesn't even make a dent."
***
In a spacious room, Bai Shen sat in a high-backed chair, surrounded by crates stacked with bundles of fresh herbs. Their earthy and potent scents filled the air, mingling into a thick, pungent aroma that only deepened his irritation. He rubbed his forehead, his fingers pressing hard against his temple as if willing his thoughts to untangle. Instead, the smell seemed to cling to him, amplifying the tense atmosphere in the room.
His narrowed gaze shifted to the staff member standing stiffly before him, the man visibly uneasy under Bai Shen's scrutinising stare. Shadows from the sparse candlelight cast across the staff member's face, catching the nervous flicker in his eyes as he waited for Bai Shen to speak.
"Speak now, can you? I don't pay you to stay mute." Bai Shen sighed loudly.
"Sir," the staff began, his voice filled with uneasiness as he looked at him. "Today, around fifty customers bought items from Heavenly Fragrances. It seems that much of the middle class is now aware of them, and there's been a rush as people are eager to get their perfumes. The sales are high, and we're expecting the momentum might slow down and stabilise— but for some reason, their products are practically flying off the shelves."
Bai Shen clenched his fists on the armrest, a dark look settling over his face. "A week has passed since we took over their supply chain, stopping the gatherers from accessing the herbs they need. How are they still producing so much?" He paused, his frustration evident as he mulled over the problem. "Did they start out with a year's stockpile?"
The staff's face remained neutral, but the tension was clear as he continued, "We haven't been able to confirm that, sir. So far, any attempts to find out have led us nowhere."
Of course, it hasn't. His jaw clenched at the outcome of his plan. "What about their employees? Have you had any success convincing someone to switch sides?"
The staff looked hesitant, but he cleared his throat and said, "We've reached out to three of them so far, but none have shown any willingness to switch loyalties or reveal the formula, no matter how much we offer. It seems all of them are longstanding Tang family employees, and they're well-compensated. Even when we attempted… additional encouragement— they refused to say a word."
Bai Shen's frown deepened, his irritation growing. "They were that loyal?"
The staff hesitated, then nodded. "We suspect they've been bound by a qi oath, sir. Breaking that oath would have severe repercussions, possibly even death. They're steadfast in their silence."
For a moment, Bai Shen's fingers drummed against the wooden armrest, the taps echoing in the quiet room.
Bai Shen's eyes narrowed, his lips pulling into a sneer. "Then offer them a price worth forfeiting their lives for. We need that formula," he hissed, fingers tapping irritably against the arm of his chair. "Heavenly Fragrances is eating into the middle-class market share that we were never able to tap before, and that needs to stop."
The staff member, who had already been shifting uncomfortably, looked down, exhaling quietly before speaking. "It's… no longer possible, sir," he admitted cautiously. "After the threats we issued, they're practically impossible to approach. They have guards hanging around them now."
Bai Shen's irritation boiled over. "Useless, all of you!" In a swift motion, he grabbed a handful of herbs from a nearby crate and hurled them toward the staff member. Leaves and stems scattered through the air, and the man barely managed to dodge, stumbling back against the crates lining the wall. "Every move I make is thwarted— everything is falling apart! I can't work like this!"
The staff quickly collected himself, swallowing as he ventured, "Young Master Shen, it's known that the cultivator Chen Ren carries quite a few debts. Perhaps we could acquire them and gain leverage over the business through that?"
Bai Shen's cold gaze flicked to the staff, who flinched slightly under the intensity of it. "You think I haven't considered that?" His voice was icy. "I already reached out to every creditor holding Chen Ren's debts. But those cowards refused, saying they didn't want to involve themselves. And I have no doubt it's that old fox Tang Jihao pulling the strings behind the scenes, making sure no one dares cross his daughter's business."
"Then… what now, sir?" the staff asked, eyes downcast.
Bai Shen rose to his feet in slow motion, adjusting his sleeves. He pursed his lips and stood taller. "Since I can't sever their supply line or buy out their employees, and leverage from debts is beyond reach, I'll resort to the one thing that can silence any opposition." His gaze hardened, a dark light glinting in his eyes as he spoke with deadly finality. "Absolute might."
***
A/N - If anyone of you don't know, you would get 15 chapters ahead of Magus Reborn (7300 followers and counting) too on patreon alongside Dao of Money for no extra charges. I have been getting messages with readers asking about it.
Chapter 28. Unofficial sect status
Despite the relentless sabotage of their supply lines by the Bai Hu Trade Association, Heavenly Fragrances grew stronger with each passing day. It was as though the heavens themselves had taken a liking to Chen Ren in this world.
As the time went on, he felt more relaxed. Unlike the initial days where his eyes always scanned for threats, now he felt at ease. Obviously, he wasn't foolish enough to think that Bai Hu trades wouldn't try something new, but something had shifted. A quiet confidence had settled into his bones.
His second business—the one that had started out as little more than a daring gamble— was thriving, and Chen Ren could no longer ignore the fact that it was moving on its own, gaining momentum as if the tides themselves had shifted in his favour. And that was worthy of a celebration on its own.
Deep down, he knew it was all due to the hard work and careful planning that had been put into work. Which would result in getting back his medallion sooner.
It was no longer a pressing worry. The debts, too, that had once seemed like a huge mountain before him, were beginning to shrink in size.
The surge of success also carried a surge of energy within him. As his businesses flourished, so too did his cultivation. The energy in his dantian flowed like a river in flood, ready to burst forth and carry him to the next star.
He felt his strength growing every day and his body humming with vitality, his soul expanding.
But Yalan had warned him not to rush. "Your foundation is not solid enough," she had told him one evening. "Rushing ahead will only make your cultivation unstable. Strength gained without a firm foundation is like a house built on sand."
Chen Ren had understood the truth in her words. He knew that if he advanced too quickly, the power he gained would slip through his fingers like water. So, he had agreed to wait. His dantian swelled with energy every day, but he focused instead on his basic techniques, his footwork, his breath control, and his internal strength. He would wait until the day was right— until the foundation had been fully set— before advancing to the next star of cultivation.
And so, he bided his time, quietly practising his basics, knowing that his true breakthrough would come only when the foundation was unshakable.
But amidst this flurry of activity—his thriving businesses, his growing power, and his ongoing training— there was one task that had been occupying his thoughts more and more. He had been dreaming of it for a while, waiting for the moment when the time would be right. And now, at last, he felt it had come.
It was time to register his sect. Unofficially, of course.
In this world, forming a sect was no small feat. It was not merely a matter of gathering a few disciples and proclaiming oneself as a sect leader.
According to the laws of the empire, an official sect required a formal registration process, complete with an application detailing the sect's values, goals, and leadership structure. Even for an unofficial sect, the application needed to be submitted to the City Lord's office. This was not a formality one could ignore, for failure to register could lead to unwanted attention from the local authorities.
Fortunately for Chen Ren, there was no cap on who could be a leader of a sect. Even someone at the body forging realm, like him, could claim the title.
After gathering all the necessary information about the process of registration, he made his way toward the City Lord's office. Yalan followed behind him, her steps light and graceful, her presence like a soft whisper on the wind. As always, she moved with the languid grace of a cat— her posture relaxed, yet her eyes ever-watchful.
In fact, with the way she acted so casually beside him, it was hard to remember that she was something more than just a… pet, one who had lived through centuries and seen far more than he could imagine.
The City Lord's office was located right in the centre of the city. Its marble columns reached toward the sky from four directions— two at the front, and two from behind. The whole building was white and it shone under the midday sun.
The building was a symbol of the Kalian Empire's might and prosperity, its polished gates were coloured with gold. There were guards stationed at every entrance, their expressions impassive as they observed the comings and goings of the people.
One word that described the ongoing activities of the place would be… Busy— merchants, cultivators, bureaucrats, and normal commoners walking in and out of the grand entrance, some hurrying with urgent matters, others exchanging polite nods and greetings. The scale of the place was staggering, with multiple wings and levels filled with bustling offices.
As they approached the main entrance, Chen Ren paused momentarily to take in the sight of a large stone tablet standing near the courtyard. Its surface was polished to a gleam, and inscriptions ran across it in flowing script. It was a monument to the history of the Kalian Empire, reminding everyone how far they had come.
Chen Ren's gaze lingered on the stone tablet for a while, his mind wandering.
Kalian Empire was the biggest power in this world, but there was always something about the empire that struck him as... fragile. How could a single emperor, even one of such immense power, keep it together for so long? Something about the weight of thousands of years, the endless cycles of history, made him wonder how it had all survived.
For example, cultivators could live for a long time, so how come not one of them had gotten strong enough to challenge the might of the empire?
From what he knew, the empire was founded by Xian Ju, a nascent soul cultivator. Yet as he thought further about him, he realised there were no records about him that he could remember. He had just vanished one day, leaving the whole empire to his descendants.
"I wonder if he simply got killed since nascent soul cultivators can live for thousands of years. But who will be strong enough to kill such a being?" he muttered, reading the stone table where information about the current emperor Xian Shuren was written.
The current emperor, a domain manifestation stage cultivator, ruled over the empire's vast territories. Despite being an entire realm weaker than the founder, it was said that his power was unmatched, his control over the empire absolute.
The cities stretched far and wide, and the sects, each with their own powerful cultivators, were united under his rule. It all sounded like the height of stability. Yet, there was a gnawing feeling in Chen Ren's chest, a question that remained unanswered: How had the empire lasted for so long?
His musing was interrupted by Yalan's soft voice, cutting through his thoughts like a cool breeze.
"Thousands of years is a long time, isn't it?" she said, talking to his mind. "I've wondered about that too. I've heard whispers of rebellions, but they were all swiftly quashed. The royal family is strong— stronger than any of the rebellious factions could ever hope to be. Even the first emperor was like that— unyielding."
Chen Ren turned toward her. "You mean the founder Xian Ju? The one who established the Kalian Empire?"
Yalan nodded. "Yes, he was already a legend by the time I got my senses. The stories about him… there were mysteries surrounding him, even back then."
"What kind of mysteries?"
"Mostly about the founding of the empire, there are very few records of how it came to be, but there were rumours. Some say the Kalian Empire emerged from the ashes of a cataclysm that destroyed all the other empires and kingdoms. It's said that Xian Ju rose from that destruction like a phoenix, uniting the fractured lands and forging the empire while making the weakened sects his subordinates. But... These are just rumours, and I doubt anyone will ever uncover the full truth unless they become royalty themselves."
Chen Ren's brow furrowed. The idea of an empire rising from such devastation fascinated him, but it also struck him as tragic— an entire world consumed by a cataclysm, only for a new order to rise from its ruins. It made him wonder if there was something more to the empire's stability than met the eye.
Yalan, however, was quick to dismiss it with a lazy stretch, her tail flicking behind her. "Either way, these things aren't important for you to learn about right now. There's nothing you can do with that knowledge anyway. You're more concerned with your own rise, aren't you? Let's go inside."
Chen Ren smiled, amused by her practicality. "You're right, I suppose. Let's take care of what matters first."
With a final glance at the tablet, Chen Ren turned and stepped through the gilded gates of the City Lord's office.
He approached the receptionist's desk, where a young woman sat with an air of practised indifference, her quill moving swiftly over a ledger. Her eyes were narrowed at whatever she was writing on.
"I'm here to register my sect as an unofficial one," he said steadily.
She looked up at him for a moment, her eyes moving over him as if appraising his status, then nodded. "Go up to the second floor, Room 215. You'll find an official there who can assist you."
"Thank you," he said, giving her a polite nod before turning to ascend the staircase. Yalan, following behind him like a shadow, swooshed her tail in a languid motion, seemingly uninterested in the busy surroundings.
The second floor was quieter, the grand echo of the lobby muted by thick carpets and polished wood. The hallway stretched out before him, lined with closed doors and the occasional guard or assistant passing by. At the end of the hall, Room 215 had a simple plaque affixed to the door. Chen Ren approached, gently pushing it open.
Inside, it was a normal office— a little less ornate than the grandiose structure of the building might suggest, but still neat and professional.
The room was well-lit, with a large table at the far side, piles of scrolls and paper scattered neatly in organised disarray. Behind one of the nearby desks sat an official, a man in his late thirties, with black robes adorned with the insignia of the City Lord's office. He was bent over a piece of parchment, scribbling something with a quill, completely absorbed in his work.
As soon as Chen Ren saw him, he recognised him as Liu Wen, one of his first and regular customers who would try his noodles everyday.
Near the centre of the room, two men sat at a table, one leaning forward with an intense focus, while the other was reclining back in his chair, eyes narrowed in concentration. He also recognized these two men— Zhang Wei and Lin Feng.
Although these two weren't as regular, they would still try out the noodles every few days. And would often ask for a second bowl.
They were playing chess, a game that had clearly captured their full attention. Their moves were slow but careful, and from the looks of it, they had been at it for some time. The atmosphere in the room felt relaxed— perhaps a little too much so, given the status of the place.
Ignoring them, he stepped forward towards Liu Wen and his eyes widened slightly, a flicker of recognition passing through them.
"Ah, Scholar Wen," Chen Ren said, standing before the stall with a polite smile. He hoped his registration would be quicker with familiar faces. "It's good to see you again."
Liu Wen blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment. "Aha, it's you, the noodle stall owner," he said, adjusting his robes with a small cough, obviously trying to make sense of the situation. "I didn't expect to see you here. I don't know if you are lost, but this is the room for sect registration."
Chen Ren chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he extended his hand in a friendly gesture. "Yes, Scholar Wen. I'm a cultivator as well. Noodles are just a business of mine. I came here to register my sect— an unofficial one, of course."
Liu Wen's eyes widened further, and for a moment, his expression grew stiff. He looked between Chen Ren and the two chess players, a slightly bewildered expression forming on his face. It was clear that Liu Wen hadn't realised who Chen Ren was beyond his role as the noodle vendor.
Liu Wen, soon masked his surprise as he smiled apologetically, realising the misunderstanding. "I'm sorry, I never addressed you properly before. I should have been more respectful." With that, he gave a small, formal bow, intending to show Chen Ren the respect he felt was due.
Chen Ren, still somewhat flustered, waved a hand in protest. "No, no, there's no need for that. I should be thanking you for trying my noodles. Now, if it's not too much trouble, could we proceed with the registration for my sect?"
Liu Wen nodded quickly, recovering his usual composure. "Yes, yes, of course. My apologies for the delay. Just give me a moment. I'm not the one handling the sect registrations usually— more on the finance side of things— but I'm covering for a friend today. I'll get you the form."
Chen Ren nodded in understanding. Liu Wen stood up from his seat and walked over to a shelf on the wall, pulling down a scroll and quickly unfurling it. After glancing at it for a moment, he walked back to Chen Ren.
"Here," Liu Wen said, handing the scroll to him. "This is the debrief form, basically things that you need to know about. But I believe you won't be here if you don't know the right way to register. Anyways, it's just protocol. I will bring you the application form soon. You'll need to fill it out with your sect's name, its values, and any members you have. Then, it will be processed and reviewed. If everything is in order, you'll get approval for it to be recognized as an unofficial sect."
He accepted the scroll with a nod. "Thank you, Scholar Wen. I appreciate your help." He unfurled the scroll, glancing over pages. Liu Wen was right, he already knew the things that were written.
Liu Wen gave a tired smile. "I'm just doing my job," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not often I see someone I recognise here. Anyway, wait for a bit as I get the form."
He left after giving another bow.
Chen Ren sat at the desk, reading through the scroll leisurely to see if he had forgotten something when his ears were drawn to the quiet murmurs of conversation between the two men still playing chess nearby.
The room was filled with a soft ambient noise— rustling papers, quills scratching against parchment, the faint shuffle of footsteps as people moved in and out— but these two men seemed oblivious to the rest of the office. Their conversation, more casual than anything of great importance, floated to Chen Ren's ears.
"Did you hear? The city tournament is starting in two months," Zhang Wei said, tapping a pawn across the chessboard with an absent flick of his wrist.
"Really?" Lin Feng replied, lifting an eyebrow as he pondered his next move. "I didn't know they would hold it so soon."
"Yeah, it seems like it's been scheduled for a while. I wonder who's gonna win this time. What sects do you think will send their competitors?"
"Hmm, well, Li Xuan's probably gonna take the win again, right?"
Zhang Wei chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't know. He might, but there's a big question mark hanging over him now that he entered the Soaring Sword Sect. That might change things. My bet's on the Void Blade Sect this time."
"Void Blade? They lost a sect war and disappeared, didn't you know?"
"What do you mean, 'disappeared'?"
"The entire sect building got confiscated. The sect vanished off the map, just like that. No one knows what happened. They say there's a lot of internal politics behind it. But whatever the case, they're no longer around to compete."
"Really? That's crazy. Void Blade Sect was a powerhouse three years back... How could they just vanish like that?"
"Yeah," Lin Feng murmured, tapping his fingers against the chessboard. "It's all whispers, really. But it's a shame, though. They were strong. I guess there's no guarantee of success even if you're strong."
Chen Ren listened intently, his mind turning. He knew of the Void Blade Sect. It was one of the sects Chen Ren wanted to get into if Soaring Sword Sect didn't take him.
Although not as grand as the Soaring Sword Sect, it was one of the well-known established sects and apparently now, it was reduced to nothing.
It was a powerful reminder of the unpredictable tides of power in the cultivation world for him. Even a sect with a rich history and strong disciples could be wiped out in the blink of an eye, either through internal betrayal or external war. It made him wonder about his own ambitions— how easily they could come crumbling down if the right forces were at play.
Yalan's voice broke through his thoughts. "Will you be taking part in the tournament?"
Chen Ren glanced up at her, still processing what he'd heard. She was sitting at the edge of the room, her tail curled around her legs, watching the chess players with mild interest. He tilted his head slightly, considering the question. "If sect cultivators are going to be entering, it's bound to be fierce. I probably won't, though. I'm not strong enough, I believe. But…" He paused, the thought lingering in his mind. "I might change my mind once I see the prizes. Who knows? It might be worth it."
"True. There's always a reason to join a competition if the rewards are great enough."
At that moment, Liu Wen returned, holding the application form in his hand. "Here," he said, offering it to Chen Ren. "Please fill this one out and I'll submit it for you to be registered as an unofficial sect."
Chen Ren took the form, unfurling it with a glance.
It was simple enough— sections for the sect's name, the name of the sect leader, a short description of the sect's mission and goals, and, of course, the sect crest.
All things he had already considered and decided upon. He filled it out quickly, every line coming naturally to him. He filled in his own name as the leader, wrote a short but clear description of the sect's values, and sketched a basic idea of its crest.
Once completed, he handed the form back to Liu Wen, who looked it over with a quick scan.
"Divine Coin Sect," Liu Wen said with a raised eyebrow. "A sect focused on business and cultivation, huh? Never saw that before."
Chen Ren stood silent, simply nodding.
Liu Wen continued. "That's a unique idea. I haven't heard of many sects that take that approach." He paused for a moment, as if contemplating it further, then set the form aside. "Alright, I'll submit this to the City Lord's office for processing. You should receive a confirmation soon enough."
"Thank you, Scholar Wen," Chen Ren said, his gratitude sincere. "I appreciate your help."
***
Chen Ren stood at the front of his new stall that Tang Jihao had helped build, eyes scanning the area, a sense of pride swelling in his chest.
The stall was modest but well-built, the hard work of helping Tang Yuqiu paying off in every detail. He hadn't manually set up everything, but the entire design was his work.
It was made up of wood, the exterior painted in a simple but elegant shade of green that matched the natural surroundings. A counter was set up in the front, where customers could easily approach to make their purchases. A few seats were placed around the stall, offering a place for those who wanted to sit and enjoy their noodles or just take a break from the busy street.
At the back of the stall, a small, cosy corner had been set up for Tang Xiulan. She would be working here— with a seat which she didn't have before so she could rest whenever she could.
But it wasn't just the exterior that caught his attention. No, his gaze moved upward, where the sect crest had been proudly placed on a sign above the stall.
The crest was simple yet meaningful— an image of a golden dragon on a coin surrounded by swirling energies, symbolising both wealth and cultivation, the merging of the material and spiritual. Chen Ren smiled softly as he took in the sight.
Surely I came a long way from that small noodle stall, heh. But still, so far to go.
The Divine Coin Sect's noodle stall was busy with customers— some returning for their daily fix of noodles, others drawn in by the enticing smell of freshly cooked food. The steady flow of people had turned the corner of the street into a small gathering, with lines of customers waiting to be served.
Chen Ren leaned against the side of the stall, his arms folded, observing the scene. Tang Xiulan moved as usual, taking orders, preparing dishes, and managing the growing crowd. She was gentle yet precise with her movements, a smile never leaving her face as she greeted each customer. The scent of boiling broth and fried ingredients filled the air.
His eyes flickered to a group of street children who had gathered around the stall. They were quick, their nimble hands darting in and out as they helped Xiulan manage the orders— running small errands, delivering food, and helping with whatever they could.
Chen Ren had known they had been helping out ever since the noodle stall had begun growing in popularity, but seeing them now, as an integral part of the stall's operation, made him feel a mix of pride and concern.
He approached Tang Xiulan, watching the group for a moment before turning his gaze to the bustling crowd.
"It looks like business has really boomed," he said, feeling satisfaction.
Xiulan glanced up at him, her smile warm. "We've got a lot of repeat customers now. The noodles are light and easy to eat, and they crave it every day."
Chen Ren nodded thoughtfully. "I believe we can start thinking about expansion once I figure out the sauce. It's the key to making us stand out even more."
"Expansion?" Xiulan asked.
"Yeah," Chen Ren continued, his mind already turning to future plans. "I want to open more stalls, hire employees, and let them handle the operations. That way, I can focus on other things and let the business grow by itself."
Xiulan was about to respond, but just then, the leader of the street children, Mei Lin called out to her, asking for help.
"Young Master, we can talk about it later," she said. "There's something I need to take care of. But before I go, could you give those noodles to those people over there?" She pointed down the street, toward a small corner where a cluster of figures sat hunched over.
Chen Ren's gaze followed her finger, and he froze. The group of people were sitting at the edge of the street, dressed in ragged clothes, with dirt smudged across their faces. Their eyes were filled with hopelessness as they watched the crowd move. Some of them had their legs crossed awkwardly, while others seemed to be hunched over as if carrying invisible burdens. They didn't seem like ordinary customers— no, these were beggars, their posture and appearance easily gave them away.
"You're feeding them?" Chen Ren asked, his brows furrowing as he glanced back at Xiulan.
Xiulan nodded, her expression soft. "I felt for them, so I started giving them noodles every day. They've started gathering around now." She paused, and her gaze softened further. "All of them have physical deficiencies, and they don't have the money for treatment. I just... I feel bad."
Chen Ren watched her for a moment, his mind turning over her words. He wasn't a man to turn his back on the poor, but there was always a limit. "I see," he said slowly. "I don't mind feeding them, but just make sure we don't get more of them."
I'm not running a charity here, he wanted to say, but he knew better. She was empathetic, and he understood that.
Xiulan nodded in agreement, her expression thoughtful. "Of course, Young Master."
As she turned to attend to the children, Chen Ren picked up the batch of noodles she had set aside, still mulling over the situation.
It wasn't that he didn't care, but there were always consequences. More beggars would mean more mouths to feed, and soon he would have a crowd of freeloaders on his hands. It wasn't his job to take care of the city's problems— it was the authorities' responsibility to manage the streets.
Still, he couldn't bring himself to refuse to give noodles. The group of beggars had been lingering around for some time, and some of them had even started approaching the stall looking for food. With a sigh, he made his way toward the corner.
The beggars were quiet, huddled together on the dirt-covered ground in an uneasy stillness. Their faces were gaunt, their bodies thin, and their clothes were threadbare. Some of them didn't even have shoes. Chen Ren approached, and as he did, the beggars slowly turned their heads towards him. Their eyes were hollow, filled with a deep sadness.
One by one, they murmured their gratitude. "Thank you for your generosity, young master," they said in unison, their voices faint but clear.
Chen Ren nodded stiffly as he handed out the noodles, each one muttering their thanks as they received their portions.
But then, as he came to the last person in line, something caught his eye.
A figure was sitting at the far end of the group, alone, their head lowered. At first glance, there was nothing unusual about them— except that they didn't seem to belong with the others. The person had long, dishevelled hair that fell like a veil over the face. Their posture was different— stronger, more upright— but their head was lowered, hiding their features.
He couldn't see any physical deficiency and couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman.
Chen Ren hesitated for a moment before crouching down, offering the noodles with a soft voice. "Here... eat. You look like you haven't eaten much in days."
The person slowly lifted their head, and as they did, Chen Ren saw their face for the first time.
A woman. Her features were sharp, delicate even, but there was something unsettling about her. Her cheeks were sunken, her skin pale and stretched thin over her bones. But it was her eyes that struck him. Violet eyes, piercing, full of something he couldn't quite place. They glinted with an intensity that made him uneasy.
"Why are you feeding me?" she asked, her voice low, almost defiant.
Chen Ren didn't quite know how to respond. "You look hungry," he said lamely.
The woman stared at him for a long moment, her gaze unwavering. "What do you want in return?"
He fumbled for an answer, feeling out of his depth. "Nothing," he repeated his intentions. "I'm just... giving it to you because you look like you haven't eaten much."
She glanced down at the noodles, her lips curling into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"I don't think you're capable of giving me anything," he said, as a matter of fact. He set the noodles down before her "Just eat it," he said for the third time, then turned and walked away.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about that encounter. But as he returned to the stall, the strange sense of unease faded, only to be replaced by something much more immediate.
A large group of men, all dressed in black, were slowly making their way toward the stall. He froze, his heart sinking as he watched them. They moved with a quiet confidence, as though they owned the street.
One of the men at the front shouted, his voice carrying across the street. "Listen up, everyone! Blood Snakes are doing an inspection here tonight! Show us proper respect and behave!"
Blood Snakes? Chen Ren's brow furrowed, and a sense of dread settled in his chest.
He didn't know who— or what— the Blood Snakes were, but the way the men moved, the way they commanded the street, told him that this was no ordinary group.
Chapter 29. Blood Snakes
Blood Snakes took the marketplace by shock.
Whispers slithered through the crowd, all the eyes darting nervously to the end where they moved with purpose.
There were ten of them, wearing black shirts with the emblem of a blood-red snake stitched across their chest. Their grins spoke of the power they possessed as they thrust their chests out with each step they took. A tall, bald man walked in the front, acting like the leader as he waved to a few stall owners.
Chen Ren felt their arrogance reeking out of every side look they gave. Ruffians, that's what these assholes look like.
Behind him, customers who had been chattering only moments ago fell silent. He looked back and saw how they were stiff with fear. Their eyes widened and some even visibly shivered.
Even stall owners, who normally barked and bantered with customers, were quiet almost as if some force had muted them. Old Man Tian, whose wrinkled hands were usually busy arranging his wares, stood frozen. His eyes kept daring around as though he was trying to find a way out of the street.
Amidst noticing all the reactions towards the Blood Snakes, Chen Ren stood motionless. He looked through his memory, remembering if he knew of them until a memory struck— A conversation the old him had with one of his friends about gangs controlling the underground market of the city.
Blood Snakes was one of them.
His gaze shifted to Tang Xiulan beside him, her usually composed expression now tight with unease. "Are they the gang that controls this side of the city?" he murmured, keeping his voice low as he watched their predatory movements.
She nodded, a shadow passing over her face. "Yes, they're called the Blood Snakes— one of the three major factions that run the city's underbelly. They have a strong grip on the underground potion market and are known for being ruthless. Crossing them is asking for trouble." Her eyes narrowed, scanning the scene as the gang members paused at various stalls, sending the merchants into a flurry of fearful compliance. "But I can't figure out why they're here today."
Chen Ren's brows knitted together, his eyes following the tense glances exchanged between the stall owners and the gang.
It almost felt as if they happened in slow motion— the passerby quickening their steps or diverting their routes to avoid coming too close, one elderly vendor trembling as he handed over a pouch of coins. It was probably his entire stash of profits for the day— week or even month, who knew?
The gang members sneered, pocketing the money before moving on, leaving the vendor visibly shaken.
"It doesn't seem like this is the first time they've done this," Chen Ren muttered, eyes hardening as he took in the scene.
The Blood Snakes didn't come just for show; they came to collect, intimidate, and remind everyone of their power. Their actions sent a pulse of anger through him. Whatever their purpose today, it wasn't for good. If anything, Chen Ren wanted to know why they had shown themselves suddenly when he hadn't seen any of them in the past month.
As the first of the gang members reached their vicinity, the smile on his face widened, revealing teeth that gleamed unnaturally white. The man's eyes glistened with a predatory look as he surveyed the scene, taking in the array of stalls and the frozen stares that greeted him.
Power, palpable and oppressive, settled over the marketplace like an unseen hand. And in that suffocating silence, Chen Ren stood unmoving.
The ruffians strolled from stall to stall, their heavy boots hitting the cobblestones with a rhythmic thud that seemed to echo through the street. They paused at each, their voices low but edged with menace.
A murmur of protest would rise out of the merchants, but it was always swallowed quickly by the sound of coin purses being emptied.
The day's earnings slipped from trembling hands into greedy palms, and the laughter that followed was cold and victorious, as though they'd won something far greater than just coins.
He glanced at Old Man Tian's skewer stall as the thugs walked towards it. Chen Ren's muscles tensed.
The old vendor, whose greying hair and stooped shoulders betrayed a life lived under the weight of years, was holding himself together with what little dignity remained. His fingers quivered, brushing against the skewers as if he could somehow make them sizzle louder to drown out the scene unfolding in front of him.
The ruffians were coming closer now. They moved with a purpose, like wolves circling their prey.
The bald thug leading them was a mountain of muscle. His tattooed arm flexed as he reached for the collar of Old Man Tian's threadbare tunic, lifting him effortlessly from the ground.
The old man gasped, a small, pitiful sound echoing out, his feet dangling inches above the dirt. The others flanked him, laughing at the scene.
Chen Ren's gaze narrowed, his heart thudding in his chest. He could see it— the struggle in the old man's eyes, the unwillingness to look up, to face the inevitable.
Fear was settling in his bones like a cold fog.
The bald thug's voice was dripping with mock familiarity as he spoke. "Old man, it's been a while, hasn't it?" His grin spread, and his eyes gleamed with a dangerous hunger. His hand travelled from the vendor's collar to the round belly that had grown soft with age, fingers pinching as he laughed. "Judging by that round belly of yours, I'd say you've been eating just fine."
Old Man Tian's lips quivered as he forced the words out. "Just doing decently, my lord. My old bones... they don't move as they used to."
The bald man's eyes flicked to the sizzling skewers, their savoury scent thick in the air. His sneer softened for a brief moment as he took in the smell.
He reached down and snatched one of the skewers from the grill, ignoring the heat, and bit into it with a grunt of approval.
The moment of softness vanished, replaced by something far more venomous. "Your food might be old like you, but it's still good," he said between chews, his mouth half-full, a greasy grin tugging at his lips. "Must be raking in a tidy sum, eh? Why don't you share some of that with me? My pockets are feeling rather light these days."
Old Man Tian's hands shook so violently that the pouch of coins he held almost slipped from his grip. He fumbled as he tried to offer a few scattered pieces of copper.
His fingers trembled, betraying him in front of the thug, who only sneered at the small, pathetic offering. Before the old man could register what was happening, the thug's hand was already around the pouch, snatching it with a swift, greedy swipe.
He held it up, eyes twinkling with malicious delight as he gave it a shake. The coins inside clinked together, a sound that seemed to mock Old Man Tian's helplessness.
The bald thug's grin twisted, and his voice lowered, dripping with cruelty. "Be thankful I'm sparing your miserable life, old man," he spat, his breath hot and rank. "Don't cling to that money like your life depends on it— you won't need it in the afterlife, and you're already halfway there."
The words hung in the air, bitter and unrelenting. Old Man Tian's shoulders sagged even lower, and Chen Ren could see the moment the last shred of defiance left his body.
He watched the ruffian, still grinning as he pocketed the coins, and a fire stirred in his chest— a flame sparked by the injustice of it all.
Chen Ren watched the scene with a frown, his brow furrowed as his senses sharpened. Where did these people come from? Where are the guards? Have they been paid off? His instincts told him that something deeper was at play here.
He shifted slightly, searching for Yalan. The cat wasn't on her normal spot on top of the stall, so he looked around for a few seconds before he felt her sitting right behind him.
Her amber eyes gleamed with an otherworldly calm. She looked unbothered by the surrounding tension, her tail flicking lazily as she studied the scene with the kind of detached amusement only a spirit beast like her could possess.
Before he could say anything, her voice cut through the stillness, her words laced with quiet command. "Don't you dare give away your money like a coward." The soft sound of her voice held the weight of a warning, the sharpness of it jarring against the otherwise heavy atmosphere.
Chen Ren's lips twitched upward, but only slightly, as he spoke in the silence of his mind. "I never said I would." His gaze never left the thugs moving through the crowd. "It's just strange. These people… they appear out of nowhere. I've been here long enough to know the ebb and flow of things, and I've never seen anything like this. What do you think?"
Yalan's tail flicked again as she narrowed her eyes, her attention flicking from one thug to another. "A lot of them are just mortals. Drunk on power, thinking they can run the place with their numbers. But the bald one—the one leading them—he's at the fifth star of the body forging Realm." Her voice dropped, dripping with disdain. "There are three more cultivators, each at the third star of the body forging realm. Cultivators with spirit roots, but they've chosen to become nothing more than thugs, extorting the weak. A disgrace. No better than demonic cultivators."
Chen Ren's gaze hardened as he took in the information. He could see the power radiating off the bald thug, and the others— no less dangerous, even if they lacked the same star rank. His mind began to work, considering the implications. "It'll be a tough fight, then," he murmured under his breath, already calculating the risks.
Yalan's gaze softened, as though she could read his thoughts with ease. "You should be able to defeat them if you keep your eyes and ears open,"she said, her voice steady with quiet confidence. "Your techniques are more refined than theirs. They'll be no match for you if you don't underestimate them. And if things get out of hand, I'll step in."
He knew she was right. Chen Clan's techniques were not weak and although a sect like Soaring Sword Sect might have better techniques, he wouldn't expect that from street thugs, even if they were cultivators.
"Okay," he said softly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the market. "But I need to know if there's anything more to their extortion racket. If there's a deeper conspiracy, it could change everything."
Yalan's ears twitched, her tail flicking once more as she stared at the group with an eerie calm. "There always is. People like them don't just appear for nothing." Her voice was laced with a knowing edge. "But don't be too hasty. We can get everything out of them once we beat them up. Just stay alert. If you can handle beasts, you can handle thugs."
Chen Ren's eyes sharpened, his resolve settling into something unshakable. "I'll take care of it. I always do."
As he finished the conversation with Yalan, the thugs finished with the other stalls and moved towards him. His customers parted ways for them as two men flanked his stall as if standing there to make sure he couldn't run away.
Around Chen Ren, the children who had been eagerly helping a few minutes before stilled, their wide eyes darting between the approaching gang and him. Tang Xiulan's posture stiffened, her fingers curling into tight fists.
"Well, well," the bald man drawled as he came to a stop in front of Chen Ren's modest stall. His eyes, sharp as knives, took in every detail. "If it isn't the delicacy I've been hearing so much about. You invented it, right? I heard you are a small-time cultivator who already gave up on reaching the heavens and is now making perfumes. But hey, at least they are earning you good money."
The two men behind him snickered, one elbowing the other.
"A cultivator peddling perfumes! What a joke," one of them jeered, his laughter loud and mocking.
Chen Ren's chest tightened, a cold realisation seeping into his veins. If he was just suspicious before, the words confirmed the fact that there was something else going on. He wasn't just paranoid. These men knew more than they should.
His heart thudded in a steady, ominous beat as he gave a glance at Tang Xiulan. She met his gaze head-on, eyes fierce, smouldering with defiance despite the danger coiled around them.
The bald man, a mountain of muscle and menace, raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The sound cut through the market like a blade, silencing his comrades instantly. "Let's not make fun of this young man over here. Money is money and everyone wants it, even us cultivators," he said, his voice rough and tainted with malice.
He walked around showing off his arrogance and slapped his palm against Old Man Tian's wooden stall, which was right next to Chen Ren's, making the fragile structure shudder under the force. The skewers rattled, one clattering to the ground and rolling to a stop near Chen Ren's feet.
"But let's not waste time, eh?" The bald man's eyes gleamed with an ugly, feral light as they settled on Xiulan. "Hand over every coin you've got here," he continued, the edge of a smirk creeping up his scarred face. "And the girl comes with me. My bed's been too cold these days." His finger jabbed toward Xiulan, punctuating his words with a twisted promise. The marketplace seemed to collectively inhale, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Tang Xiulan's jaw tightened, and she met his leering gaze with eyes that could slice through iron. The tension between them crackled like a drawn blade.
Chen Ren's vision narrowed, the world around him fading as a deep, seething fury took root. His voice, when he spoke, was low and controlled, emphasising every syllable. He literally spat his words. "Try that, and I promise you won't be able to touch any women going forward."
The bald man's eyes widened briefly before his smirk returned, broader and uglier than before. He threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter that bounced off the nearby stalls and echoed into the watching crowd. His lackeys joined in, their laughter a grating chorus that sank claws into Chen Ren's composure.
"Oh, is that so?" the thug taunted, spreading his arms wide as he turned to address the cluster of bystanders who stood frozen at the edges of the market, their faces pale and drawn. "Listen up, everyone! This young master here seems quite enamoured with his little maid. But look at her!" He gestured toward Xiulan. "She's not even that pretty!"
More laughter followed, harsh and mocking, drilling into Chen Ren's ears. His fingers curled into fists, nails biting into his palms.
But the laughter faded as the bald man's smile disappeared, replaced by a look of cold calculation.
He leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper. "How about this? I won't take the girl. Instead, give me your perfume formula. My boss is interested in it, you see. He's quite fond of perfumes."
Chen Ren's eyes hardened. "He can come to my shop and try the perfumes. As for the formula, I don't think he can afford it."
The bald man's jaw twitched, his smile souring. "My boss doesn't buy what he can take. He prefers... acquisitions."
Chen Ren didn't flinch, his voice steady as a blade. "Then I have two words for him: fuck. off."
The moment Chen Ren's defiant words left his lips, the bald man's face darkened.
His eyes, now smouldering with rage, narrowed to slits as he drew his fist back, ready to strike.
But before the blow could connect, Chen Ren's instincts surged, and with a flicker of his feet, he propelled himself forward, [Lightning Step] sparking beneath him. The sudden movement sent a ripple through the onlookers, gasps escaping the mouths of those who dared to watch.
The bald man's punch met space, his momentum carrying him forward as he stumbled and spun around, eyes flaring with fury. "You've picked the wrong fight!" he roared, veins bulging on his neck.
He lowered himself like a charging beast, muscles coiling as he unleashed a battle cry. "[Raging Bull Rush!]" With a force that cracked the stones beneath his feet, he charged, each step shaking the ground.
Chen Ren dodged to the side, barely escaping the head-on rush. The wind from the bald man's charge ruffled his robes, and sweat trickled down his brow. He clenched his jaw— this man was faster and stronger, a formidable opponent. But defeat wasn't an option.
Before Chen Ren could catch his breath, two mortal lackeys rushed at him, fists swinging. He caught one by the wrist, his fingers tightening like iron. The man's eyes widened in shock as a flash of electric-blue light crackled from Chen Ren's palm. "[Thundering Fists!]" The jolt sent the lackey stumbling back, yelping in pain.
The second thug flinched, but before he could retreat, Chen Ren repeated the strike, sending him sprawling.
The brief victory was cut short by a bellow from the bald man, who had already whirled around and resumed his charge.
"I'll crush you!" The gap between them disappeared in a heartbeat, and Chen Ren's mind raced. He darted into the open space of the market, weaving between overturned carts and dodging terrified bystanders.
"Come on, is that the best you've got?" Chen Ren taunted, trying to buy himself precious seconds while striking at the gang members scattered around. The bald man's eyes burned with rage as he ploughed through obstacles like a bull gone mad, his singular focus on Chen Ren unwavering.
Suddenly, Chen Ren's luck ran out. The bald man pivoted with unexpected speed and struck him with a head-first blow. "[Bull Smack!]"
The impact sent Chen Ren hurtling backward, his body crashing into a wooden stall that splintered under the force.
Pain flared across his back as he gasped, pushing himself up on shaking arms.
Before he could fully regain his stance, another shout cut through the chaos, sharp and hissing like the creature it invoked. "[Cobra Fang!]" The voice belonged to a wiry man who leaped into the fray, his movements fluid and sinuous, as if his joints were made of water. His eyes gleamed with a predator's focus.
Chen Ren's chest tightened— this man was one of the three-star body forging realm cultivators.
The air crackled with sudden tension as the man's fist lashed out, a strike as quick and venomous as a serpent's bite.
Chen Ren's instincts screamed, and he pushed his body into motion, twisting just enough to avoid the blow. The wind of the missed strike brushed his cheek like a cold whisper, and the ground seemed to lurch beneath him as he spun back, breath ragged.
He didn't pause. Chen Ren channelled his qi, feeling it spark like wildfire through his veins.
With a surge of determination, he unleashed "[Lightning Frenzy!]"
His fists blurred, trailing sparks as they met the cultivator's torso. The man's eyes widened in shock as the force crashed into him, sending him sprawling backward into a nearby cart, which exploded into splinters and sent up a plume of dust and shattered wood.
A fleeting wave of triumph rippled through Chen Ren's chest, but it was crushed a heartbeat later. Iron bands locked around him from behind— a crushing, unrelenting grip that threatened to crack his ribs on contact.
The bald thug's brute strength was immense. He gritted his teeth as pain seared through his back, muscles screaming as he struggled to breathe, let alone move.
"Hold still," the bald man growled, his breath hot and rancid against Chen Ren's ear. "Zhi, break his ribs."
Another man, scarred and grinning with feral delight, stepped into view. The marketplace seemed to shrink, the noise of the crowd fading to a dull roar as the new threat moved closer.
"[Multiple Snake Bites!]" he intoned, the technique name slicing through the air.
Chen Ren's world exploded into a white-hot agony as the blows rained down, reverberating through his bones and forcing the breath from his lungs.
His vision darkened at the edges, a dance of shadows and pain as he lashed out blindly with a desperate kick. The strike connected with a satisfying thud, sending Feng stumbling back a few steps, a curse on his lips.
But the reprieve was momentary. The vice-like hold on him tightened, the pressure biting deeper until it felt as if his ribs might shatter under the strain.
Blood thundered in his ears, drowning out everything but the raw, animalistic drive to survive. His vision wavered, the world around him threatening to blur into nothingness.
Should I call out for Yalan? The thought, sharp and urgent, clawed at his mind. Pride, though, rose like a stubborn flame. Yalan had faith that he could handle this. And so did he. With a gasp, he steeled himself, even as a fresh wave of pain lanced through him.
Just then, a glint of metal caught his eye— a knife, its edge slicing through the air toward him with deadly intent.