Dao of Money

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,

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.

Chen glanced down at Yalan, his lips curling into a faint smile.

He took another slow sip, feeling the warmth seep into his chest.

Yalan’s tail twitched, her gaze shifting from Chen Ren to Qing He once more. ” 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.