Chapter 80: Return to Cloud Mist City

Soot fell on Chen Ren’s face. He reached up to wipe it away, pausing as he leaned against their still carriage. Above, the sky was vast and cloudless, a pale blue that felt too serene for what had just transpired.

They were finally out of the Zhu Clan’s domain.

The road ahead twisted through the mountain pass, leading away from Ashen City and toward Cloud Mist City. From there, they would make their way back to Meadow Village.

As he stood there, the carriage window creaked open. Anji’s head poked out. She paused for a moment, as if checking Chen Ren’s mood. But since he didn’t say anything right away, she opened her mouth. “It’s unfortunate what happened with Feiyu,” she murmured. “I wouldn’t wish something like that on anyone.”

Chen Ren exhaled, a wry, sad smile tugging at his lips. “He chose it for himself. He knew the consequences. There’s nothing we can do about it. I believe he had it long coming.” His voice was steady, but his fingers curled against the rough wood of the carriage. “In life, there are choices we make. Right or wrong, they’re often final.”

Anji was silent for a long moment before speaking again, her voice softer. “I understand choices. But we can still regret them, right?”

Chen Ren nodded. “Yeah. There are plenty like that.” His gaze drifted toward the distant peaks. “I have my own regrets.”

Anji tilted her head. “Like what?”

Chen Ren scratched his head, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. “For one? The tournament at Cloud Mist City. I should have been more careful. I was lucky, saved by circumstances. But if not for the golden dragon…” His fingers twitched. “I’d be dead right now.”

Suddenly, everything fell silent. The mountain wind swept past them, rustling the trees.

Anji studied him for a moment before nodding. “About that golden dragon, I had questions. Are you comfortable talking about it?”

Chen Ren opened his mouth to respond—but then, he felt it. Footsteps.

His head snapped to the side.

A figure approached from the path leading out of Ashen City.

Feiyu.

His eyes were red, as if he hadn’t slept, but his face was resolute. A worn pack was slung over his shoulders, the fabric stretched thin and patched in places. He moved with the stiff, uncertain gait of someone stepping into a world that had never before been his to walk.

As he neared the carriage, his eyes found Chen Ren.

A small smile glazed across his lips. Then, without hesitation, he strode forward and bowed deeply.

“Thank you for everything.” His voice was raw, hoarse with emotion. “I never thought a day would come when I would be without a slave mark.”

He pulled back his sleeve.

The skin of his forearm was burnt, the flesh marred by angry red scars where the brand had once been. His hand shook when he showed it from his pointy finger.

Freedom had come at a price.

Chen Ren kept staring at it for a solid minute. The faint lines of the slave mark were still visible, but the symbol had been usurped—its power erased. Feiyu was a free man now.

“Fortunately, the patriarch listened to me and made the right decision,” Chen Ren said. Then, after a pause, “Did you get her letter?”

Feiyu nodded, gripping the strap of his pack tighter. “Yes, I did.” He cleared his throat. “She said she understood my decision… and that she’ll wait for me to come back for her as a strong cultivator. Her father’s already planning to get some proposals for her, but she’s going to push it off for as long as she can.”

“That’s good. If you said the oath the way I told you, you’ll be fine.”

“I did. And they didn’t seem to suspect anything.”

Chen Ren smirked slightly. “People like to think qi oaths are unbreakable, not realizing they’re just contracts with stricter rules.”

He had found that qi oaths were one of the most interesting things in this world. Since using the qi oath on Tang Yuqiu back then, Chen Ren had been curious about its mechanics. He had spent time experimenting with them, testing whether they were truly foolproof or if there were ways to manipulate their wording for loopholes.

As expected, the wording played a crucial role. Back in the city, he had tested it on Lihua by making her take a qi oath not to eat

his

noodles for a week. Yet because the restriction only applied to his noodles, she had no issue eating those made by Xiulan or anyone else. That small distinction proved that a carefully crafted oath could be circumvented.

He had used the same trick with Feiyu, structuring the oath so that he would stay away from the Zhu Clan’s Lingyan—but the oath would only apply while she remained part of the Zhu Clan. According to their plan, the girl would join the Divine Coin Sect in a year or two, once his relationship with the Zhu Clan improved. When that happened, she would abandon the Zhu family name, effectively nullifying the restriction.

It wasn’t an uncommon practice for sects to sever their disciples from mortal ties, and while convincing the Zhu Clan would take time, Chen Ren was confident in his ability to handle it.

Thinking of the trick, Chen Ren was glad that qi oaths weren’t taken lightly in this world. Their absolute nature made them a rare tool, used only in special circumstances. That was precisely why the art of exploiting them wasn’t widely spread. If qi oaths had been used for everyday contracts, someone in the Zhu Clan might have caught on to his loophole.

But in this case, they would never suspect that their own daughter might one day be willing to give up her family name.

And of course, all of this had been planned with her. Lingyan knew what was going to happen. Now, all he could do was trust that she would play her role right.

Brushing aside his thoughts, Chen Ren turned his attention back to Feiyu. “So, are you ready to join the sect? I have a lot of work for you, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it.”

Feiyu nodded, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

Chen Ren caught it immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Feiyu shook his head before exhaling. “It’s just… you’ve done me a great favor. And before you decide whether to keep me in the sect or not, I want you to know everything about me.”

Chen Ren paused, thinking about his words for a second. “What do you want to tell me?”

Feiyu hesitated, then squared his shoulders. “About my history. Why is my bloodline that of a slave.”

Ah, that.

Chen Ren studied him, wondering if whatever Feiyu was about to reveal would truly change his decision. He already knew that Feiyu’s grandfather had been accused of murder, but what had really happened? Had he been framed? He had no idea about the specifics and even if he had tried to ask Zhu Yuan, the fatty didn't have the information for him.

Now that Feiyu was ready to reveal it, he wasn't going to say no. Getting to know his past might just give him more knowledge on how to handle him.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Feiyu glanced at the others in the carriage, hesitating for a bit, but in the end, he didn't seem to care about them as he spoke. “I’m sure you already know my grandfather was accused of murder.”

Chen Ren nodded. “I do.”

“That’s true. But it wasn’t as simple as it sounds.”

“What do you mean?” Chen Ren asked almost immediately.

A look of conflict crossed Feiyu’s face. He clenched his fists but didn’t back away from his words. “My grandfather didn’t just kill one person. He killed three members of the Zhu Clan.”

Chen Ren stiffened slightly.

“Three teenagers. Mortals.” Feiyu said further. “My grandfather used to have a shop in Ashen City. One of the bigger forges there. But those three… those three kids would use the Zhu Clan’s authority to get wares for free, insulting him as a lowly smith. For a while, my grandfather couldn’t do anything. No matter how many times he tried to directly talk to the Zhu clan patriarch, he did nothing and even the local guards weren't willing to do anything against members of a clan.”

Feiyu clenched his fists, the story coming out in pieces. “So one day, after those three took swords and bows from him to go hunt rabbits, my grandfather… he snapped. I don’t know what exactly happened that day. I’ve heard different versions of it, but the story I heard said something broke in him. He got too angry, too rageful. Maybe it was because the forge had stopped working as well, or maybe he was going through something mentally. But in the end, he killed them. Mercilessly.”

A chill ran through the air, and Chen Ren felt the weight of Feiyu’s words settle around them.

“Immediately, he was seized by guards. They put him on trial, but even then, he injured some of the guards. From that moment on, my bloodline was branded as demonic, tainted.” He paused.

Chen Ren noticed that Feiyu avoided his gaze. Probably ashamed of his grandfather's actions, but he still continued the tale.

“I still don’t know why he did it. I understand they were thieves, but they were teens. They were just drunk on the power of their clan. My grandfather never spoke about it. After that day, he never even said a word, just worked as a slave for the rest of his life. My father… he was the same. Beaten down by the sins of his father, and he passed away early because of it.”

Feiyu’s voice faltered before steadying again. “But thanks to you, I’m free. I’m no longer a slave. I can finally live the life I wish to live. But it doesn’t change the fact of what my grandfather did.”

His eyes dropped for a moment, but then he lifted them to meet Chen Ren’s. “I never knew him. But I feel like I carry the blood of a man with no self-control, a short-tempered, mortal demon. I’m not proud of his actions or to carry his blood.”

Chen Ren listened intently, his expression unreadable as Feiyu's family's history ended. And he had to say that it was something that did give him stuff to think about. If he was honest with himself, the Zhu Clan hadn’t struck him as righteous, at least not in the way they carried themselves.

There had always been something about them that seemed more driven by power and name than any true sense of justice. A part of him had suspected that Feiyu’s grandfather had been framed for the murder, that there were forces behind the scenes using the incident to their advantage. But the reality was different.

Though, in the end, Feiyu’s family had suffered not just from the crimes of their ancestor, but from a system that used them as pawns.

And yet, despite the gruesome past, it didn’t change anything in Chen Ren’s decision. Did this story make him hesitate to take Feiyu into his sect? No, not at all. If anything, it strengthened his desire. Feiyu had come to him, ready to lay bare his truth, despite the shame and the weight of it all and knowing there could be consequences to his confession. That kind of honesty was rare, and Chen Ren valued it deeply.

Judging a person based on ancestry, religion, or who they served had never sat right with him, and it never would. He wasn’t the kind to carry the sins of another. So, he reached out, patting Feiyu’s shoulder.

“I don’t think you should have gone through all those years of slavery because of your grandfather. Even your father shouldn't have. You just suffered for the crime of someone else, and I’m not going to hold that against you. You’re an honest man and a capable blacksmith. I don’t expect anything more from you.”

There was a pause, the air feeling lighter now as Feiyu’s shoulders relaxed, the tension in his posture slowly easing.

“Welcome to the sect.” Chen Ren said.

Feiyu’s eyes widened, numerous flickering in them as he took a deep breath, bowing deeply in gratitude. “Thank you, Daoist Chen.”

Chen Ren’s lips twitched, and he quickly corrected him. “Sect Leader Chen.”

Feiyu blinked, caught off guard.

“Our sect is new,” Chen Ren continued, his voice calm yet with a quiet authority that seemed to come naturally now, “and I’m its sect leader. I don’t reveal it to others, though. I just act as a representative of it. But trust me, you’ll get plenty of time to learn about Divine Coin Sect on the road.”

Feiyu processed the words, a mix of astonishment and acceptance crossing his face. After a moment of silence, he asked, “And where are we going, Sect Leader Chen?”

Chen Ren smiled faintly, his eyes turning distant for a moment. “Cloud Mist City. The place where it all started.”

***

The road to Cloud Mist City was smooth, with the group traveling comfortably and having a good time. Along the way, they were joined by other carriages headed in the same direction, their convoy expanding as they traveled.

The journey from Ashen City took two days, following the winding mountain path that led to a wider road, easier and faster to travel. And throughout the trip, Chen Ren kept himself busy, engaging in constant discussions with Feiyu about forging techniques, even throwing in a few pointers about firearms and the uses of guns.

He also spent time with Zi Han and Anji, discussing their plans for Cloud Mist City, how he would check in on his former businesses there, and what actions they’d need to take moving forward.

To his surprise, Hong Yi, who had been quietly drawing new designs for his puppets on parchment the entire journey, seemed interested in trying out the noodles Chen Ren had briefly mentioned about. He hadn’t pegged him as a foodie, but he supposed everyone had their hidden interests.

As the days passed and the distant city grew nearer, the group’s pace remained steady, and soon enough, Cloud Mist City came into view. It wasn’t as bustling as it had been during the tournament, but there were still plenty of carriages waiting to go out. Like any other cultivator, Chen Ren was given easy preference once Zi Han showed the sect crest, allowing them to pass through without much delay.

“We are almost there,” Chen Ren said.

He wasn’t eager to go into the city himself—he needed to let his disciples handle the smaller tasks, and he had a strong suspicion the city hadn’t fully recovered from the Dragonheart fever yet.

So, while the others discussed the task he had given them, Chen Ren observed the familiar streets, noticing the ebb and flow of people. He even caught sight of a few women carrying perfumes from the Heavenly Fragrances store. That was a good sign—those perfumes were still selling well, just like before.

However, as they reached Market Street, something caught his eye that made him freeze.

Just at the entrance of the street, two noodle stalls were set up, and though there were a few people loitering around them, they were unfamiliar to him. The stalls didn’t carry the sect crest, which meant they were knock-offs—copycats who’d decided to jump on the noodle craze he’d started. Chen Ren narrowed his eyes, watching them carefully, until Hong Yi, who had been quiet until now, finally broke the silence.

“Are these the noodle stalls you own?” he asked.

Chen Ren shook his head, his lips curling into a small smile. “No, they’re copycats. Probably people who saw the success and decided there was good money to be made. It’s not hard to replicate the setup—they’re simple to make.”

He paused, continuing to observe the stalls with mild amusement. “Honestly, I expected them to pop up a while ago, but it seems people didn’t want to offend a cultivator. They waited until I was out of the city. To be honest, though, I couldn’t care less.”

The copycats were just that—imitators with no creativity, trying to capitalize on something that had already gained a reputation. Chen Ren wasn’t concerned. If they wanted to make a few coins off noodles, let them. He had bigger plans than petty competition with these amateurs.

As they moved on, Chen Ren remained thoughtful, but his focus shifted as they neared the Tang Clan estate. There was still much to do, but for now, he couldn’t help but wonder just how far his little noodle venture would spread.

It had been a good starting business, and he was proud of it, but it wasn’t making as much money—or qi—as he’d hoped. Not yet, anyway. There were still bigger plans ahead, particularly for once his mortal sect members could stand on their own and help expand it. But for now, his mind had other things to focus on.

Lost in thought, he barely noticed when they crossed the street toward the Tang Clan estate. The carriage came to a stop, and he quickly exited, stepping onto the familiar grounds. The guards at the gate saw him and immediately bowed respectfully.

Without missing a beat, he asked, “Is Young Miss Tang Yuqiu home?”

They nodded, and as he made his way through the estate, his entourage followed, eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet curiosity. The courtyard was peaceful as always, but the soft shuffle of footsteps echoed as suddenly Tang Yuqiu appeared at the door. She was accompanied by her maid and another servant, clearly informed of his arrival.

As soon as she saw him, a smile tugged at her lips, but it quickly faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “Chen Ren,” she greeted, her voice carrying a hint of something urgent. “It’s good to see you again. You’ve come at the right time. We’re facing a big problem.”

***

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