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Chapter 79 - 15-17

Chapter 15. A new wind

Although Chen Ren had long known the Tang Clan head's intentions when he allowed his body's former occupant to stay in the family's courtyard, he had hoped the man had abandoned those thoughts. But as he sat in front of Tang Jihao, hearing his sudden excitement and hopeful tone, Chen Ren knew his recent success had reignited those expectations.

The clan head leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of paternal pride and ambition. "It seems your growth has given me something to think about, Young Ren. Perhaps there's a future between you and Yuqiu after all."

Chen Ren felt a chill run down his spine. He had to clarify quickly before things spiralled further. "I believe there's been a misunderstanding. My words were not about marriage."

Tang Jihao's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from hopeful to curious, almost predatory. "Oh? And why not?" His tone was sharper now as if testing Chen Ren's response. "Do you already have someone else in your heart? Although Yuqiu can be hot-headed, she's a beauty. You won't find another woman like her—certainly not in Cloud Mist City. I think you can be apprehensive since she won't allow more wives, but isn't she enough? You have seen her. She can certainly handle you."

Chen Ren swallowed hard. His mind raced, trying to find the right words to avoid offence. "It's not that," he said, his voice steady. "But I've no intention of considering romance, not until I've cleared my debts." He glanced at the clan head, measuring his response before continuing. "My focus right now is elsewhere, more on business than personal matters."

Tang Jihao leaned back, stroking the goatee thoughtfully. His sharp gaze softened slightly, his interest piqued. "Business, you say?" His voice lost some of its edge, settling into something more curious. "What exactly do you mean?"

Chen Ren took a deep breath, the tension in the room still palpable but shifting. "Earlier," he began. "I overheard your conversation. I know your daughter has been trying to start a business of her own."

Tang Jihao's brows furrowed, his lips tightening. He nodded slowly. "That's right. I gave her an investment and told her to test her capabilities. It didn't work out as she'd hoped. Business is not as simple as many believe. It's not all about capital but understanding people, markets, and timing." He sighed. "I admit, I'm surprised you managed to run that noodle stall so effectively. It's no small feat."

Chen Ren nodded in agreement. "Exactly, it's difficult. That's why I'm offering to help her. But in exchange, I need two things."

The clan head's eyes sharpened once more, the air between them growing still. 

"Oh?" He sat up straighter, his presence suddenly felt towering, demanding. "And what exactly are these two things you're asking for?"

Chen Ren steeled himself, knowing this was the crucial part. "First," he began, "I need you to hold off the creditors for a bit longer. Just for a short time. I'm confident I'll be able to pay them back soon." His voice was steady, but Chen Ren felt the weight of his gamble inside.

Tang Jihao frowned slightly but didn't interrupt, so Chen Ren pressed on. "Second, I've heard that your clan has a carpenter workshop. A good one."

The clan head's frown deepened. "Yes, we do. Why?"

Chen Ren smiled. "I need them to build several stalls for me. Nothing extravagant, just enough to put up a proper front for my noodle business. I would like to open up branches all around the city."

At that, Tang Jihao fell silent, lost in thought. His gaze drifted towards his lap, but Chen Ren could feel the man's mind working, calculating the risks and benefits, pros and cons. Finally, the old man sighed, nodding slowly. "It doesn't sound like an unreasonable request. But are you confident, boy? Starting a new business isn't as simple as setting up a shop. My daughter isn't interested in selling noodles, as you know. Only in eating them."

Chen Ren smiled wider, feeling more at ease. "It won't be noodles this time. I've seen many things as a cultivator before I ended up here. I have ideas, things I've picked up during my travels that will suit her more. You can trust me on that."

Tang Jihao's eyes flickered, still cautious but intrigued. "And what if you fail? What happens then?"

Chen Ren didn't hesitate. "If I can't make this business a success for her, you can kick me out. No hard feelings. I won't come back for second chances or beg for forgiveness. My pride as a cultivator won't allow me to do so."

That seemed to amuse Tang Jihao. A low chuckle escaped his lips, growing louder until it became a full, hearty laugh that echoed through the room. "Bold! You've got a spine, I'll give you that." He slapped his knee, still grinning. "Fine, fine. I'll do it. But remember, if you do succeed, this business needs to be something she controls. I'm not giving you free rein here, understand? She needs to be at the front."

Chen Ren nodded quickly. "Of course. I'll make sure of it. Her face will be at the front, and I'll stand beside her. She'll be the one in charge. Profits will be shared, but her name will be heard around the city."

Tang Jihao's laughter subsided, but a spark of approval lingered in his eyes. "We'll see how long that confidence of yours lasts. But for now, you've got my backing. Don't disappoint me." 

Chen Ren bowed his head slightly. "I won't."

Inside of him, a storm of thoughts churned, already planning the next step. He glanced at the letters from the creditors and realised he might have less time than he had hoped for. 

As Chen Ren turned to leave, Tang Jihao's voice stopped him at the door. "Oh, and one more thing," the clan head said, his tone lighter. "Send me those noodles every day. They're quite good."

Chen Ren smiled and nodded, but just as he was about to step out, Tang Jihao added with a knowing smirk, "And think about my daughter, would you? She may be mortal, but she's not a bad match. Especially if you're serious about becoming a merchant."

For that, Chen gave a polite smile, though his mind was already elsewhere. 

"Understood," he replied, nodding once before stepping out into the corridor.

***

The corridor was quiet as he walked, his thoughts still circling the conversation with Tang Jihao. The weight of the proposal— Tang Yuqiu's business, the creditors, the thinly veiled suggestion about marriage— hung heavy on his mind. But deeper still was the gnawing sense that his own plans were slowly slipping beyond his control.

As if sensing his turmoil, a soft purr echoed from the shadows. Chen Ren turned to see a sleek, pure-white-furred cat emerge from the corner, her amber eyes gleaming with amusement. 

"That girl isn't suitable for the Chen Clan," Yalan remarked casually, her voice laced with nonchalance as she padded beside him. "I have nothing against mortals, of course, but as a cultivator? One should always seek an immortal as a spouse. Concubines, well, that's a different matter."

Chen Ren sighed, shaking his head. "I don't have any plans for that right now." He glanced down at Yalan and glared at her. "Were you listening to the conversation?"

Yalan lifted her chin, her tone imperious. "I was outside the door. It's easier to sneak around in this majestic body. No one suspects a thing."

Chen Ren couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "Majestic?"

"Compared to humans," Yalan replied smoothly, her tail flicking with pride, "I'm far quicker, with better reflexes. And no one ever suspects a lovely creature like myself. It's far more majestic than your body ever could be. If you try to do something like sneaking around a rich, merchant clan, you would be killed. But not me."

Chen Ren bit his lip, trying to suppress his amusement, but Yalan's confidence was contagious. He let the moment pass, though, and focused on the more pressing matters at hand.

"So, are you going to start this business with the Tang girl?" Yalan asked. "Why? I thought you had enough money to get your own stall up and running. Why can't you just spend it on expanding to other stuff?"

"It's not enough," Chen Ren admitted, his mental voice lowering as they walked. "I need a face for distribution, someone with influence. I can't do it on my own. Xiulan is too tied up with the other stalls, and the creditors... they're getting impatient. I have no other way to stop them."

Yalan's eyes narrowed thoughtfully before she spoke again."You could let me handle the creditors."

Chen Ren stopped in his tracks, turning to look at her and not even bothering to speak in his mind. "You'd do that for me?"

Yalan stretched lazily, her eyes half-closed as she replied, "You're technically someone I'm supposed to protect, aren't you? I'll step in if your life gets close to danger. And besides," her eyes gleamed with a faint curiosity, "I'm also interested in your Dao. Whenever an esoteric Dao appears, big things tend to follow."

Chen Ren stared at her for a long moment, a mix of amusement and curiosity flickering across his face. "You're that interested in my Dao?"

Yalan didn't respond right away, simply turning her head to the side as if she hadn't heard the question. Then, with a slow, deliberate flick of her tail, she said, "Let's just say... I don't think you're as ordinary as you think you are."

Chen Ren smiled to himself, his thoughts once again returning to the many complications that awaited him. But with Yalan beside him, whispering secrets of Dao and destiny, he felt a little more at ease. Even if he hadn't fully trusted her yet, it was better to have her on his side than against him.

He let out a laugh through his nose and looked down. "I don't know about all that. Either way, I'd rather keep you as my trump card. If things get too bad, I'll call on you. But for now, I was planning to ask Yuqiu for help. I still owe her a favour, so I can knock out two problems at once. And having the support of the Tang Clan Head won't hurt either."

Yalan gave a satisfied nod as they continued walking, her ember eyes reflecting the lanterns' dim glow in the corridors. It was quiet, the stillness only broken by the soft sound of their footsteps and the distant rustling of night wind through the courtyard trees.

After a while, Chen Ren broke the silence. "By the way," he began slowly, "I've been wondering... Do you know what's going on with the Tang Jihao? He looks... sickly. He's the same in the previous Chen Ren's memories. And it doesn't seem like normal sickness."

Yalan's ears flicked, her gaze shifting slightly."I've noticed it too. It's not just physical. If I had to guess, I'd say it's a soul disease."

"Soul disease?"

Yalan's tail swished, her tone matter-of-fact. "A disease of the soul, yes. It's not natural either. Someone did this to him— most likely a cultivator. His soul is being eaten away bit by bit every day. That's why he looks so frail. I'd bet he's relying on pills and elixirs just to keep himself upright. Without them, he'd probably be coughing blood every other second."

Chen Ren absorbed the information in silence, his mind racing. Soul diseases were far outside his realm of expertise. He had heard stories about them, tales of how the soul could be corrupted, rotted from the inside out. But never had he imagined that someone like Tang Jihao would be suffering from such a thing. 

For a moment, he considered offering help, but then quickly dismissed the thought. What could he do? He had no knowledge of treating soul diseases, nor the resources to even begin trying. And getting involved with something like that— it would be far too dangerous.

"I guess that explains a lot," Chen Ren finally said, his voice more subdued. "Still, it's not my place to intervene. I wouldn't even know where to start. Helping Tang Yuqiu is enough. I'll leave that mess to those more qualified."

Yalan gave him a sidelong glance, her whiskers twitching. "Wise decision. Meddling with soul diseases is like trying to wrestle a demon— either you win or you get consumed. Best to focus on your own path for now."

Chen Ren nodded, but his mind couldn't help but linger on the thought. Tang Jihao, suffering in silence, put on a strong face while his very soul decayed— it was a grim reminder of the world he had stepped into. Strength wasn't just about physical power or martial prowess; sometimes, the greatest battles were invisible to the naked eye.

Still, he had other priorities, and getting too involved in the clan's affairs could only complicate things. He had his own plans, his own survival to worry about. With a final glance at Yalan, who now padded silently beside him, Chen Ren exhaled and pushed the thought from his mind. 

***

Under the vast expense of the sky, Cloud Mist City sprawled out like a hazy dream, nestled among the rolling clouds that drifted lazily through the air. A man stood on top of the biggest mountain in the area and from his position, he could instantly see how the city's walls rose into the distance. The atmosphere was cool and thick, almost tangible as if the city itself were cradled by fog.

His blue robe fluttered gently in the wind, worn and frayed at the edges. Dirt and bloodstains marked its once-flawless surface. His hair, as blue as the robes he wore, hung loosely down his back, swaying slightly with each gust of wind. The subtle gleam of the bracelet around his wrist caught the moonlight. He gazed down at the city, his sharp eyes taking in every detail as his heart tugged in anticipation. 

Finally, after a long moment of silence, he exhaled slowly. "So, this is Cloud Mist City." His voice was low, roughened by fatigue and resolve. "I'm finally here."

He lifted his hand, brushing some dirt off his sleeve. "Are you sure we'll find what we're looking for here?"

The wind swirled suddenly, carrying with it a presence— faint at first, like a whisper on the edge of perception, but soon taking form. The air next to him rippled, and from the thin veil between the realms, a figure emerged. A ghostly silhouette, its shape resembling that of a demon, with twisted horns and sharp, red eyes. Its entire body flickered like a dying flame, both translucent and yet imposing.

The ghost's voice was a rasping echo, barely louder than the wind. "Yes," it said with certainty, its glowing eyes narrowing. "But it won't be easy to acquire. The object's aura is faint— buried deep. It needs to be very close for me to sense its full nature."

The man glanced sideways at the spectre, his lips curving into a grim smile. "That's no problem," he said, his voice cold and unwavering. "I'll deal with whatever stands in my way. And if anyone tries to stop me..." His eyes narrowed even at the thought of someone trying to stop him. "I'll give them a show. A little blood tends to make an impression."

The ghost chuckled, a dark, hollow sound that echoed in the wind. "You speak like a true disciple of mine. Blood may not solve everything, but it certainly smooths the path." The spectre's form shifted slightly, growing more defined as it loomed closer. "I chose you for a reason. You're ruthless enough to survive this world and ambitious enough to carve your own path through it."

The man clenched his fist, the bracelet around his wrist glowing faintly in response to his will. "Then let's not waste any more time. We know what we need to do."

As the ghost faded back into the shadows, the man stood there a moment longer, his gaze locked on Cloud Mist City below. The mists churned, obscuring the streets and rooftops as if the city itself were hiding secrets deep within its embrace. His heartbeat quickened, not from fear but anticipation. Whatever awaited him in that city—treasures, enemies, or bloodshed—he would face it head-on.

The wind picked up, carrying his words into the distance. "Whatever happens... this city won't forget my name."

16. Haggling (Bonus chapter)

Although his plan had been perfectly laid out and set in his mind, even after speaking with Tang Jihao, one glaring problem clung to his side: Tang Yuqiu had vanished.

Chen Ren had scoured the Tang Manor, and questioned every servant he could find, but all anyone knew was that she had left the manor. "Being outside" was about as useful as saying she was somewhere under the sky. The city was vast, and people disappeared easily into its winding streets, crowded districts, and hidden alcoves. 

He knew how people like Tang Yuqiu would act when they were troubled. Often, they'd seek quiet corners where the noise of life would fade away, and the chaos in their mind could find some peace. The issue was that those places were rarely obvious, especially for someone like Tang Yuqiu who would be smart enough not to hide in plain sight.

Maybe she had somewhere private where she found comfort, maybe it was a person— but again, he doubted she had such close friends considering her nature. He also hadn't seen her with anyone else other than her maid. But how would he know where to find her? How would anyone know? 

With a sigh, Chen Ren set off, his steps light but his mind heavy.

The city stretched before him like a puzzle, its roads teeming with life. He made his way through familiar streets, heading towards the upper district— a more refined area beyond the bustling market. He had been here before, more than once, a wide landscape that offered a semblance of peace. Yet, even after combing the alleys and looking into the refined tea houses that someone like Tang Yuqiu would frequent, she was still nowhere to be found.

His search felt endless, each corner revealing nothing but the familiar sights of merchants, shoppers, and city dwellers going about their day. The upper district may have offered more serenity, but it did not yield the answers he sought. Frustration clawed at him, his thoughts a jumble of worry and mild irritation.

He had hoped to find her deep in thought somewhere, brooding in a corner, contemplating whatever troubles had sent her off in the first place.

But it wasn't until he moved closer to the noodle stall, his last resort, that he spotted her— Tang Yuqiu, seated casually, bowls of noodles scattered around her like trophies from some odd competition. She wasn't brooding, wasn't lost in thought. Instead, she was slurping noodles with the kind of focus that suggested she was thinking about absolutely nothing at all.

A soft, bemused voice broke the silence of his thoughts. "You should've looked for her here right away," Yalan, his feline companion, muttered from his side, her amber eyes glinting with amusement. 

Chen Ren sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I thought she'd be sitting somewhere, lost in thought, not... slurping noodles."

"Some people eat when they're stressed," the cat remarked with an air of superiority, tail flicking lazily. "You humans have the strangest habits."

Chen Ren shook his head, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "Of all places..."

Still, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. She was here, not lost or troubled in some hidden corner. Just here, surrounded by noodles and clearly coping in her own way. Now, it was just a matter of talking to her about what was in his mind. 

Chen Ren gave a subtle nod to Yalan, acknowledging the cat's dry wisdom, before setting his sights on Tang Yuqiu. 

In the middle of a small mess of empty bowls, her eyes were narrowed but drew a blank. She was slurping the last of her noodles as if they held the answers to all her problems. It was still early, just before lunch, so the line for the stall was small but growing, the quiet before the midday rush.

He stepped closer, weaving through the sparse crowd with ease, and gave a polite nod to Yuqiu, who glanced up at him with the barest flicker of acknowledgement. Her brows knit together in annoyance, but she didn't make any move to stop him. "I hope the noodles are satisfying your appetite," he said, a soft humour lacing his words.

Her eyes flicked up, cool and sharp. "I don't want to talk to eavesdroppers," she replied, her voice low and edged with irritation.

Chen Ren sighed but met her gaze evenly. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. Your father called me there. I just happen to have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She studied him for a moment, her expression softening just a fraction. The scowl that was on her lips turned to a thin, straight line. "I can see that," she muttered, though the edge hadn't entirely left her voice. "So, why are you bothering me now?" She swirled the noodles with her chopsticks and was playing with them as she waited for his response. 

Chen Ren moved closer, his tone shifting as he spoke with more purpose. "I have a way to alleviate your worries." He paused, letting his words settle. "As I'm living in your house, it's only right that I lend a hand."

She looked at him, scepticism written plainly on her face. She placed the chopsticks on the bowl, balancing them carefully before setting the bowl aside. "How exactly can you help me?" She glared at him with a deadpan look on her face. Before he could respond, she laughed humorlessly— a dry laugh through her nose. "Don't joke, Chen Ren."

As soon as she said it, she picked up the bowl again and started slurping noodles. 

"I'm not joking." His voice held a quiet confidence. He gestured to the stall behind him, to the small but growing crowd of customers waiting for their turn. "The place where you're eating noodles right now— I created it in mere weeks. No funding, just meagre savings. And now look at it."

Her eyes narrowed once again. "Are you trying to brag?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm offering a proposal."

Tang Yuqiu's eyes searched his face, trying to determine if he was serious or just playing some elaborate joke. There was no deceit in his gaze, only a calm certainty. "A proposal?" she repeated, her voice less hostile now, but still guarded. "What kind of business?"

She placed the bowl back on the table, giving him her full attention at the sound of his seriousness. 

"High-end products," he said, his tone firm. "Something refined, something that stands out."

She exhaled sharply, her doubt clear. "That sounds expensive. If it fails, the losses would be huge. I can't afford that again— I can't bear that kind of failure anymore."

Chen Ren leaned in slightly, his voice dropping as if sharing a secret only for her ears. "You don't have to think negatively all the time. Failure isn't a certainty."

Her gaze wavered for a moment, but he pressed on. "You tried to save a blacksmithing workshop for your father. You bought it and poured everything into it, hoping to turn it into something grand. Even though you're well-versed in the basics of business, you lack one thing: innovation. That's where I come in."

Tang Yuqiu's fingers curled around the edge of the table, her expression unreadable, but Chen Ren could see the faint flicker of doubt turning into interest. "Innovation?" she echoed softly.

He nodded, his gaze steady. "I'll bring innovation. You bring the structure. Together, we can build something that doesn't just survive—it thrives."

For the first time since they began talking, Tang Yuqiu looked at him not with suspicion or irritation but with something close to hope. But she wasn't ready to admit it yet. "It sounds risky," she said, her voice quieter now.

"All good things are," Chen Ren replied with a faint smile. "But this time, you won't be doing it alone."

It seemed as if she allowed herself to consider the possibilities for a brief moment, but soon her expression shifted to one that clearly conveyed the question: "Have you lost your mind?" Her frown deepened as seconds passed, assessing him for any hint of deceit again, but after a long pause, she simply sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly. "If you're lying, I'll kick you out myself."

Chen Ren chuckled.

"You don't have that authority. Your father does. And let's be honest, do you really think the regular guards would be able to get me out?" He folded his arms, voice lowering to a serious tone. "But I'm not lying. This business will help you regain your lost honour. We'll build something that'll take the city by storm. Only if you want to. If you don't, then… Well."

He shrugged. 

She stared at him, her expression unreadable as she considered his words. "Forty-sixty," she said, at last, her voice steady. "In my favour for the profits."

Chen Ren raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Fifty-fifty," he countered, unwavering. "I'm already doing you a favour by letting you in on the profits."

She snickered, the tension in her posture easing just a bit. "I doubt you're going to put any money into this venture, and as for labour? I'll be the one doing most of it. Not to mention, I'm putting my last bit of savings into this. The split should be in my favour."

He shook his head, his smile not faltering. "None of it matters without my ideas and innovation. Without me, this is just another failed business in the making."

Chen Ren felt a pang of guilt settle in his chest. He was aware that the knowledge he held— the ideas, the innovation— weren't really his own. They came from Earth, from a world she knew nothing about. In a sense, he was taking advantage of her ignorance, using what he hadn't developed himself. But a little shamelessness could go a long way, and in this world, survival wasn't always about playing fair. Besides, if it meant helping her out of this mess and earning good money, he could live with it.

The two of them leaned closer over the wooden table, their voices rising and falling like the tide as they haggled fiercely. 

Tang Yuqiu's eyes sparkled with determination as she pushed for a larger share, her tone sharp and confident. "You can't expect me to invest my last savings without a fair cut. I'm thinking at least fifty-forty in my favour."

Chen Ren crossed his arms, unyielding. "That just sounds comical to me now. I'll agree to fifty-fifty, but only if you want this to work."

"Fifty-fifty? That's not happening. You're not even putting in any capital," she shot back, her frustration evident. "I'm the one risking everything here."

"And without my ideas, there's nothing worth investing or risking in at all," he countered, his voice steady. "You need to recognize the value I bring to the table."

She rolled her eyes, a scoff escaping her lips. "Please. Are you really valuing your 'grand ideas' that highly? They're just words without a proper plan. How about seventy-thirty? I need a cushion for my risks."

"Seventy-thirty? Don't make me laugh! You just increased your profits after asking sixty." Chen Ren shook his head, a smirk on his face. "You'll scare away any potential investors with those demands. You really think anyone will join you at that rate?"

"If you want a partner, you'll have to meet me halfway. How about sixty-forty, then? That's still generous considering I'm the one bringing in the capital."

"Fifty-fifty. It's either that or no deal."

"Fine," she relented, with an exasperated huff. "Fifty-fifty." Her eyes gleamed with a mix of scepticism and expectation as she added, "But the next discussion will be when you bring me this so-called high-end product. And make sure it actually impresses me."

With that, she stood, the bowls of noodles forgotten as she straightened her dress. "Don't disappoint me, Chen Ren," she said coolly before turning on her heel and walking off into the city streets.

Chen Ren watched her go, rubbing the back of his head in thought. The deal was set, but now came the hard part: delivering on his promise. Getting the product was, without a doubt, the toughest challenge ahead. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Now comes the real work," he muttered, casting a glance at the noodle stall. Then, realisation struck him. "Wait! She forgot to pay!"

***

Once the discussion with the young miss was over, Chen Ren spent the rest of the afternoon working at the noodle stall. The hustle and bustle of serving bowls of noodles to the waiting line kept him busy, but his mind was far from settled. The deal he struck with Tang Yuqiu was the easy part— making promises and talking up grand ideas.

Sure, in his mind, he had a thousand concepts for high-end products, things that could revolutionise this city. He could picture them clearly—luxurious cosmetics, high-quality fabrics, herbal tonics. But as the hours ticked by and the day dragged into late afternoon, he realised something that chilled him more than he expected: this world wasn't like his own.

The herbs he needed, the specific plants, the animals—none of them were familiar to him here. The flora and fauna he relied on for his ideas were different and foreign. What use was knowledge from another world if the fundamental building blocks were all wrong?

Chen Ren rubbed his temple, staring out at the thinning crowd of customers. He didn't even have a good grasp of what was available locally. Without the right resources, his ideas were nothing more than fantasies.

He needed a solid foundation in the herbal and animal life around the city. But therein lay the problem: Chen Ren had no books related to that. He had never been interested in herbology or biology. His knowledge from his past life was limited to what modern industry could produce— he didn't have the faintest clue how to identify rare herbs or unique ingredients in this world.

And worse still, this city didn't seem to have a public library. He had asked around before— hoping for a place where he could dig up some information— but according to the servants, there was no such luxury here. Even Yalan, the cat, had been little help, though she had muttered some vague complaints about 'human knowledge being too scattered.' 

When he'd brought up the idea to Xiulan, she confirmed his suspicions. The local herbalists and doctors were fiercely protective of their knowledge, sharing only with their trusted apprentices. Trying to pry information out of them would take too much time— something he barely had.

Chen Ren sighed, leaning against the stall's counter. His options were growing slimmer by the minute. There had to be another way. And then, a flicker of memory hit him— something from Chen Ren's life here, something he had almost forgotten about. He straightened up, eyes narrowing as a thought crystallised.

There was one place that might have what he needed. It wasn't a library, not in the traditional sense, but it was a place where books were plentiful. More importantly, it was a place where someone like him might just stumble upon the right book by sheer luck. 

His gaze turned resolute as he packed up the last of the stall's supplies, handing over the evening shift to Tang Xiulan. He didn't say much to her, just a brief nod before he turned and headed into the city, a singular thought guiding his steps.

By the time Chen Ren arrived at his destination, the sun had dipped low in the sky, casting the streets in a soft orange glow.

He found himself standing outside an unassuming tea shop, nestled between a pair of larger merchant buildings. To most, it looked like a simple, cosy place— a retreat for the weary, where people sipped tea and escaped the noise of the marketplace. But Chen Ren knew better.

He glanced at the faded sign swaying in the evening breeze. It was a tea shop, yes, but it was also something more: a place with a surprisingly large collection of novels. 

"Stories for the idle," Chen Ren muttered to himself. "But maybe, just maybe, I might be able to find what I'm looking for here."

He walked forward, pushing the door open, the faint scent of tea leaves and old parchment greeting him. The air inside was warm and cosy, and the soft murmur of voices made it feel almost too peaceful for the task at hand. He spotted a few patrons lounging about, their noses buried in novels as they sipped their drinks.

His eyes scanned the shelves lining the walls. There, amidst the countless works of fiction, he hoped to find what he was looking for. The herbal knowledge he needed, the key to unlocking the next step of his plan— surely, among all these books, there had to be something useful. A book, a scrap of knowledge… anything. 

Chen Ren strode inside, a small smile creeping across his face. "Time to see what this tea shop really has to offer."

Chapter 17. Lusty snake and rising wood

The tea shop was nothing out of the ordinary. 

The lanterns, already lit, cast a warm glow that mingled with the lingering scent of brewing tea, creating an inviting atmosphere. Despite the late hour, the place was still full of life, with customers ranging from wandering cultivators to weary travellers, each nursing a steaming cup and engaging in low, murmured conversations.

Chen Ren stepped through the entrance, his eyes scanning the familiar space.

It had been a haunt of his— well, the previous Chen Ren's. He would come here occasionally, trailing behind friends with the same lofty aspirations, searching for volumes on the lives of famous cultivators. Those old legends were filled with tales of extraordinary feats, profound enlightenment, and battles that shook mountains. That Chen Ren had been enchanted by such stories, trying to emulate the speech and mannerisms of those ancient heroes. Perhaps it was this obsession that had made him so haughty, looking down on mortals as if they were dust beneath his feet.

Chen's lips twisted into a half-smile at the memory, but his expression soon shifted into one of mild curiosity as he glanced around. The tea stall hadn't changed much; the scent of worn scrolls and ink mingled with the earthy aroma of the tea.

Rows of shelves lined one side of the establishment, stacked with books and scrolls, each promising knowledge for those who sought it.

Once a customer selected a book, they could choose to take a seat in one of the small cubicles— cramped spaces enclosed within wooden walls, offering a modicum of privacy— or sit at the open tables, reading amidst the buzz of conversation while sipping their tea.

Chen Ren walked towards the shelves, his fingers brushing against the rough spines of the scrolls as he searched for something that might be of use.

Most of the volumes were the same as he remembered: biographies of storied cultivators, legends of ancient sects, and tedious records of lineages.

He even caught sight of a few of the more absurdly long titles— works like "The Celestial Sword that Cut Through the Humans and Heavens" or "Heavenly Phoenix Rising from Ashes to Burn Everything into Ashes". Yet, buried among these, there were some books whose names made his eyebrows twitch. Volumes like "Lusty Snake and the Rising Wood" sat side by side with the more serious tomes, its title boldly displayed as if challenging anyone who dared to judge the content.

Curiosity piqued, he reached for it. "Only for research purposes," he muttered to himself, cracking open the pages. As he skimmed through the lines, he found that it wasn't the scandalous tale he expected. 

Instead, it detailed a bizarre story about a snake spirit that formed a bond with a tree beast, their journey through the wilderness, and their trials against various predators. The language, poetic and flowery described their struggle to survive and thrive amidst hostile terrain, and there wasn't a single racy detail to be found.

He shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips as he placed the book back on the shelf.

He continued to search, his eyes narrowing as he sought something more practical— treatises on rare herbs, bestiaries that catalogued the creatures of the surrounding forests, anything that might give him an edge. But to his growing disappointment, nothing of the sort seemed to exist among the shelves.

The tea house, with great reputation for its book collection, had nothing but fanciful, questionable stories and endless odes to long-dead cultivators.

Frowning, his gaze drifted toward the small desk nestled in the corner of the tea stall, where an old woman sat.

Her hair having lost its colour now streaked with silver, bound up in a loose bun atop her head. Her face was wrinkled and sun-kissed, but her eyes resembled one of a hawk. She cradled a clay cup in her hands, sipping tea slowly and occasionally moving her eyes around the shop. 

His memories told him that she was the owner of the place. Deciding that she might have more insight into his search, he approached the desk, offering a polite bow. His eyes went to the label on the table — Qing He, her name must be. 

"Good evening, Senior Qing He. I'm looking for a particular book if you'd be so kind as to assist me."

Qing He looked up, one brow arching slightly, her eyes darting toward the shelves lining the walls. "There are plenty of books around there, young one. Take your pick," she said, her voice creaky.

"I've seen the ones out there, but I can't find what I'm looking for. Specifically, I'm interested in herbs and beasts. A book that could give me detailed information on them." 

Qing He leaned back in her chair, the wooden legs creaking under the shift of her weight. She set down her cup with a soft clink, peering at him over its rim. "Herbs and beasts, you say? This place isn't a sect library, boy. You want those kinds of books, then join a sect."

He hesitated, then shook his head, meeting her gaze directly. "I already tried. Failed the entrance exams."

A brief, almost pitying chuckle escaped the woman's lips. "Not all sects are the grand, sky-reaching one's. There are smaller ones, always looking for stray talents."

Chen Ren shook his head. "Not interested. I just need access to knowledge. That's all. I'm even willing to pay more."

Qing He's expression didn't change. She picked up her cup again, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. "Then you're out of luck. There are no secret collections here, no hidden tomes. If what you want isn't on those shelves, you might as well leave. As for money, you can pay for my tea and books on those shelves. Nothing more than that."

Chen Ren let out a long sigh, nodding to himself as he considered her words. His mind briefly entertained the idea of using his status as a cultivator or perhaps invoking his recent association with the Tang Clan. But as he glanced back at Qing He, looking at the wrinkles around her eyes, he discarded that notion. 

Using his status here would be akin to acting like the previous Chen Ren, especially when he was just against an old woman. He needed a different method to get through her. 

"Thank you anyway," he said, bowing again before turning back to the shelves. 

After some searching, he pulled out a book titled "The Immortal Travels of Lu Jie". It was yet another biography of a cultivator and his turtle whose life had become the stuff of legend. Not the practical text he sought, but at least it might offer some inspiration.

He settled down in one of the public seats, choosing a corner where the noise of the tea stall was muted and cracked open the book. As he began to read, a shadow loomed over him, and he glanced up to find Qing He standing beside him, a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

"Here," she said gruffly, setting the cup down on the table beside him. "Glad you found something to read."

Chen Ren blinked, surprised, before offering her a small, genuine smile. "Thank you."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a few coins and placing them on the table. She grabbed them without turning to leave. She didn't look back, but Chen Ren thought he saw the corners of her lips curl upward ever so slightly at the coins.

He took a sip of the tea, savouring the warmth that spread through his chest, and let himself sink into the tales of Lu Jie, even as his mind continued to puzzle over the best way to find what he truly needed.

His other hand turned the brittle pages of the biography. The dim glow of the lanterns cast shifting patterns on the floor, and the hum of conversation from the other patrons filled the air with a comforting background murmur. The tea was warm, smooth, and soothing, but his thoughts remained restless, circling back to Qing He behind the counter.

As he took another sip, a soft rustling reached his ears. A moment later, a familiar weight settled on the seat beside him, fur brushing against his arm. He glanced sideways and saw Yalan. The creature stretched leisurely, curling her tail around her paws, before it spoke through his mind. 

"It's good you didn't try to pester her," Yalan said, her gaze shifting toward Qing He who was now busy wiping down a dusty ledger. "That woman is strong."

He raised an eyebrow, setting the book aside for a moment. "A cultivator?"

Yalan nodded, the tip of her tail flicking lazily."One that should be an elder of a sect at the very least. Dunno what she's doing here, hiding in plain sight."

Chen Ren's gaze drifted back to Qing He. Her mannerisms were unhurried, almost mundane— just a regular shopkeeper tending to her tea stall. Yet, there was a precision to the way she moved, a calmness that seemed just a bit too steady for an elder who had supposedly lived among average folks all her life.

He tried to see through the veil of ordinariness she wore like a cloak, but there was nothing to give her away. Everything about her, from the faint lines around her eyes to the way she drank, seemed unremarkable.

But he couldn't dismiss what Yalan had said. If she truly was a hidden master, then it explained the knowledge in her advice earlier— her casual mention of joining a smaller sect.

He had given her no direct clue that he was a cultivator when she suddenly mentioned the sect competition. Though, even mortals tried their luck in those sect competitions, hoping to secure a menial position within the sect's ranks. But she had spoken as if she knew he was a cultivator. 

He cast another glance her way, but she continued her work, her focus entirely on her task. 

Perhaps she had grown used to keeping her true nature hidden, blending into the background of this quiet corner of the world.

From what he remembered, the tea stall had been around for over a decade, always present yet never standing out. And in all that time, she had never done anything to betray her strength— never once let slip the aura that clung to true cultivators like a faint shadow.

Chen Ren sipped his tea thoughtfully, a plan beginning to form in his mind. If she was indeed a hidden master, there was a chance—however slim— that she possessed the knowledge he sought, the books he needed. Ancient masters often kept hidden troves of information, things that would never find their way onto the dusty shelves of a public stall.

He just needed to find the right opportunity to make himself useful, to earn her favour, to perhaps gain access to whatever secrets she might be guarding.

Yalan's voice broke into his thoughts, her tone curious. "So, what's the plan, then? Sit here drinking tea until your cup runs dry?"

Chen glanced down at Yalan, his lips curling into a faint smile. "I'll look out for the right opportunity to intervene. There's always something, some small act that might win a favour. If she's hiding her strength, then she's got her reasons, and people like that often need help— help they don't want to ask for."

He took another slow sip, feeling the warmth seep into his chest. "If nothing comes up, then I'll have to play the long game. But I don't have much time for that."

Yalan's tail twitched, her gaze shifting from Chen Ren to Qing He once more. "Hmph. Impatient as always, aren't you?" But there was no reproach in her tone, only a hint of amusement.

Whether it took a moment or a month, he would find a way to crack open whatever mystery the old grandma held.

After all, in a world of secrets and shadows, the right connections could be more valuable than any rare herb or elusive beast. And if she was truly a master, then beneath that ordinary exterior, she held more than a few keys to the knowledge he sought.

Time drifted by slowly in the tea stall, the minutes bleeding into one another as Chen Ren sat in his corner, pretending to be absorbed in the dusty old biography.

His gaze, however, frequently drifted over the rim of his cup to Qing He at the counter.

She continued with her routine— refilling teapots, arranging cups, and occasionally greeting new customers with a weary nod. The steady pace of her movements betrayed nothing of the hidden strength Yalan had hinted at. But, even as he kept his eyes peeled, no opportunity presented itself.

He watched as people came and went— workers, merchants, and the occasional scholar, all entering with the prospect of a warm drink or a brief respite from the day's troubles. 

Nothing of interest, nothing out of the ordinary. His second cup of tea turned cold. He ordered a third, and as the minutes stretched on, he began to wonder if he would spend the entire evening here without any progress.

But just as the tea warmed his hands once more, the bells above the door chimed, announcing the arrival of a group of young women. 

Their attire marked them as scions of wealth— draped in robes of fine silk, embroidered with different patterns of flowers and mythical creatures. Gold-threaded tassels hung from their sleeves, swaying with every playful step. Jade bangles clinked softly on their wrists, and their hairpins shimmered in the lantern light, each one showing off their families' prosperity.

Chen Ren's interest piqued as they made their way to the reception. They gathered around Qing He, who set her teacup down with a soft clink, meeting their smiles with a polite but detached nod.

"Ah, Grandma Qing He, do you have any other books here?" one of the girls asked, her voice carrying the cultured tone of someone used to making requests.

Qing He regarded her with a raised eyebrow. 

"What kind are you looking for?"

The girl gave a small sigh, adjusting the hem of her silken sleeve. "Most of the books here seem to cater to children or men. We've read through nearly all of the cultivation stories you have in stock. Isn't there anything... different? Something more to our taste?"

Qing He's face remained impassive as she shook her head. 

"This is all I have, miss. If you're looking for something different, I suggest you try the merchants next time they come through town."

The disappointment in the girls' expressions was clear, but they could do little but exchange glances and mutter among themselves before turning away, their footsteps carrying them out of the tea stall in a trail of silk and perfume.

Chen Ren watched their retreating figures thoughtfully, a plan forming in his mind. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. With a quick breath, he downed the last of his tea and rose to his feet, striding toward Qing He with purpose.

She looked up at his approach, her expression turning from mild curiosity to a familiar wariness. "What do you want now?" she asked, voice flat.

Chen Ren offered a polite smile, gesturing in the direction of the door where the girls had exited. "Those young misses. Don't you think you're losing customers by not catering to them? If you had books they wanted, they'd keep coming back, and they'd spend plenty of silver doing it."

Qing He shrugged, picking up her teacup again as if the matter was already settled. "Doesn't matter. I don't have any more books. And even if I wanted to get more, it's not easy. Merchants don't bring many these days, and the ones they do bring are mostly the same— cultivation stories, tales for children, nothing more."

Chen Ren leaned in slightly, his tone gaining a touch of enthusiasm. "What if I offered you a solution to that problem?"

She eyed him sceptically, one brow arching as she set her cup down again. "And what solution would that be?"

He straightened, letting a bit of confidence slip into his voice. "I could write a book— one that would appeal to those girls. You have a lot of young misses visiting your shop, don't you? If you had a story that they actually wanted to read, it could bring in more business. They'd come for the tea, stay for the book, and keep returning. Girls like them talk about everything to each other so I'm pretty sure your business will boom."

Qing He's scepticism only deepened, her lips curving into a dry smile. "You don't look much like a writer to me."

Chen Ren chuckled softly, spreading his hands in a disarming gesture. "Appearances can be deceiving, Senior. Just give me a chance. If I can do it, will you let me have a look at the herbal books?"

She let out a short, humourless laugh. "I already told you, I don't have any of those. What part of that did you not understand?"

"Maybe there are some in the back. It wouldn't hurt to take a look, would it? Just a small favour, if I manage to write something that brings more customers to your shop."

Qing He stared at him, her gaze as steady and unyielding as a mountain. For a moment, Chen Ren wondered if he had pushed too far, but he held his ground, his expression remaining calm and composed.

Qing He let out a long sigh, her breath carrying the weariness of someone who had seen too many schemes and empty promises. She took her time, letting her gaze sweep over Chen Ren, measuring him up from head to toe. Her eyes, sharp and judgemental, flicked briefly to Yalan lingering a few paces behind him. After a moment's pause, she folded her arms and gave a small, almost reluctant nod.

"Sure."

"If you can write up a good book that brings in more business, I'll search through what I have. But understand, there's no guarantee I'll find what you're looking for."

Chen Ren's face lit up with a hint of satisfaction. "That's good enough for me," he replied, his voice carrying a note of enthusiasm that hadn't been there before.

Without waiting for her to change her mind, he turned on his heel, striding toward the door. If he hadn't controlled himself, he'd be bouncing on his feet. But good thing, he was still sane. Yalan padded after him, her tail swishing lazily behind.

As he left the tea shop, the air seemed cooler, and crisper— or maybe it was just his mind.