Chapter 113: Tax concessions

Chen Ren had intended to learn more about Wang Jun—the head—in the carriage, but as soon as he started asking, he realized one thing: the head never shut up.

What began as a simple question,

“What was your life like before losing your body?”

turned into an endless flood of life history.

From his birth as a farmer’s son, to finding a mysterious treasure hidden in the mountains that propelled him into the path of cultivation, to the chaotic clashes with young masters of more established clans (a phenomenon that seemed eternal no matter the era), Wang Jun rambled on.

He recounted his early breakthroughs, his first loves, grudges, betrayals, duels—nothing was left out.

By the end of day one, Chen Ren and the others trapped in the carriage had long since stopped trying to process the sheer volume of detail. Meanwhile, Wang Jun showed no signs of tiring. After spending so long sealed in sleep, he seemed almost manic for conversation.

Unfortunately, Chen Ren’s group bore the full brunt of that enthusiasm.

The only relief came during rest stops to eat. Amusingly, that was when Chen Ren realized Wang Jun, having no body, didn’t and couldn’t eat. Instead, he explained that his current existence was something unique—he now absorbed qi directly through his soul. It fascinated Chen Ren, though he refrained from probing further. Anything about soul cultivation was tied to Anji’s inheritance, and Chen Ren wasn’t eager to overstep. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if he could gain even a basic lesson or two from Wang Jun. Adding soul techniques to his arsenal could one day be invaluable.

Another thought had been eating at him. How strong was Wang Jun’s soul? Chen Ren’s own soul, originally from Earth, had crossed dimensions and fused with the fragments of this world’s Chen Ren. Did that make him capable of going further in soul cultivation? He was almost impatient to ask Anji if he could join her in training.

Apparently, she had already brought up the idea with Wang Jun, and the head had agreed. Chen Ren didn’t know why, but he also knew how delicate the topic was. To ask for a share in her inheritance without offering something valuable in return would be an insult.

He had already profited greatly from the Void Blade Sect’s vault. His sect might have lacked recognition, but it's treasury had elevated it to the level of ancient sects. With the books, techniques, and weapons he now possessed, Chen Ren could nurture a force of cultivators powerful enough to shake the region.

And yet, he knew such fortune came with a price. Trouble would follow him. That was certain. After all, he had robbed the treasures of another Established sect—one that would surely discover the loss of their expedition team, even if they found no trace of the culprits.

The true danger lay in the fact that they were demonic cultivators in disguise. To what degree, he couldn’t exactly say, but he wasn’t about to take chances or find out. It was only wise to prepare for retaliation, even if he was fairly confident they wouldn’t be able to trace the deed back to the Divine Coin Sect.

As Yalan had once told him, paranoia served cultivators well. Chen Ren intended to put the new treasures he had acquired to good use. If they came knocking, he would be ready. Even with the gap in strength, he believed he could overcome them.

But before that inevitable conflict, increasing his own power was the first step. The moment he returned to the sect, that would be his focus. Not only for the Blazing Ember Sect’s survival, but also to prepare for the coming winter.

What had initially been a plan to test his firearms in the wilds now served a dual purpose. He would test himself as well, hunting beasts and gaining real combat experience. The opportunity to fight cultivators had been plentiful— beasts were a different matter, and he needed that knowledge.

The days passed in a blur of steady travel. They stopped less and pressed harder, cutting down the distance swiftly until finally, the familiar shape of Meadow village came into view.

At that moment, Wang Jun was still droning on about a chapter of his life, recounting his time aboard a ship to a distant island. Hong Yi, seated at the front of the carriage, interrupted sharply.

“I see the village!”

Chen Ren leaned toward the window, catching sight of the wooden walls rising against the horizon. Chief Muyang had clearly taken his suggestion to heart—the palisade was being built. Parts were already standing, sturdy and well-crafted, while other sections remained under construction.

As Chen Ren watched in quiet satisfaction, Anji grabbed Wang Jun by the hair and pushed the head forward so he could see.

“So this is where I’ll be staying until I get a body, huh?” Wang Jun said, in an oddly cheerful tone.

“Yeah,” Chen Ren replied with a faint grin. “This is home—for now.”

“Looks like one of those small villages that used to treat cultivators as gods.”

Chen Ren huffed. “That’s close enough. They're more cautious around us than reverent, though. Times have changed.”

Wang Jun’s head was pulled back inside the carriage, and after a moment of quiet, he spoke again. “Are they good servants? I want two for my needs. One of them can hold me so I can take morning walks.”

Chen Ren frowned immediately. “They aren’t servants. And you’re not getting morning walks. If I let a talking head wander around, there’d be mass panic. I doubt the world has gotten used to disembodied heads strolling about in the centuries you’ve been... napping.”

Wang Jun scowled. “So I’m to sit in a room and be brought out only when you want to extract knowledge from me? Am I some dusty old relic on a shelf?”

By now, Chen Ren knew the head had already figured out their intentions. For all his endless rambling, Wang Jun had once been the founder of a sect that had stood for centuries after him. He was sharp enough to see through them.

“We can talk about your... request when we arrive,” Chen Ren said carefully, not wanting to come off rude. “Of course, I won’t demand your knowledge for free. I’m not your disciple, nor will I act like one. Whatever knowledge I seek, I’ll offer something in return. It’ll be fair. A give and take.”

“Hmph.” Wang Jun sniffed. “Even if you were my disciple, I wouldn’t answer everything. My last disciple tried to steal my lover. They had an affair, then ran away together.”

“Did you kill them?” Chen Ren asked immediately. He couldn’t have imagined anything else happening to the disciple at the cost of his actions.

“No,” Wang Jun replied, sounding almost insulted. “Those idiots hid inside a wyvern’s nest and got eaten. I had to kill the wyvern and slice open its stomach just to confirm they were dead. The whole thing was... complicated. I’ll tell you the full story one day.”

Chen Ren simply nodded, still a bit stunned, as the carriage finally rolled past the gates and into the village. The crude but solid palisade surrounded them as the familiar buildings came into view.

As they neared the sect’s entrance, Chen Ren let out a long, quiet breath of relief.

When Wang Fu had transformed, there had been a time he wondered if he would ever see this place again. But now, here it stood in front of him, solid and real. Home.

There, at the entrance, Xiulan stood waiting for him alongside a few mortal sect members. Chen Ren smiled faintly at the sight of her before leaning toward Anji.

“Get the head out under a cloth once there are fewer eyes around,” he whispered. “I’ll go talk to Xiulan.”

Anji nodded, and Chen Ren sighed inwardly. If only Wang Jun could be tossed into a spatial ring. Unfortunately, living beings—or in this case, something close enough—couldn’t survive in dimensional space without catastrophic consequences. He wasn’t eager to test that theory with a talking head.

He climbed down from the carriage with Yalan following close behind. Xiulan approached with a bright but tired smile.

“You succeeded,” she said, then glanced toward the carriage. “Are the items you found in there?”

Chen Ren shook his head and raised his hand, flashing the spatial ring. “No. Everything is safe inside here. I’ll explain later. There are… complications. We also brought someone back with us.”

Xiulan’s brows lifted. “Another disciple?”

“No,” Chen Ren said with a tired chuckle. “It’s… difficult to explain. You’ll see soon enough. For now, I just want to sleep. A lot happened this week, and I need rest before we talk.”

Xiulan nodded but hesitated. Her eyes darted nervously toward the carriage and back.

“Well–”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Chen Ren caught it instantly. “What is it?”

“There’s someone here for you.”

“Who?”

“Li Xuan.”

The name made Chen Ren sigh and rub at his temple. “Li Xuan?”

“He arrived yesterday asking to spar with you. Zi Wen found him walking near the village and brought him here. He was disappointed you weren’t around, but he’s been waiting for your return.”

Chen Ren groaned inwardly. The last time he’d seen Li Xuan, the man had barely survived Gu Tian’s assault and had been left paralyzed. They had only interacted once since Chen Ren had taken over this body.

Though Li Xuan had always struck him as one of those rigid cultivators who lived and breathed cultivation, he was neither reckless nor impulsive. Still, Chen Ren couldn’t fathom why the man would now seek him out for a spar.

Chen Ren considered refusing outright. He liked to think of himself as more of a strategist, a planner—not someone eager to fight duels. But letting an unknown variable roam his sect unchecked wasn’t an option.

“Take me to him,” he said at last. “The next few weeks are going to be critical. I can’t afford loose ends. Especially not a variable like Li Xuan.”

Xiulan nodded and led the way. They wound through the sect buildings, heading toward the training grounds at the back.

As they approached, Chen Ren spotted Zi Wen in conversation with a tall figure clad in plain robes—Li Xuan.

At their feet, Little Yuze lay sprawled comfortably on the ground, rolling lazily like a large pup under the afternoon sun.

Chen Ren hadn’t seen Li Xuan in some time, but he noticed the change immediately. The man’s aura had shifted. His long, flowing hair was now cut shorter, and there was a calmer, more disciplined air about him. The rigid arrogance Chen Ren remembered had been softened. A small, relaxed smile lingered on Li Xuan’s face as he conversed with Zi Wen, the two standing under the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun.

As soon as they heard footsteps, both men turned. Their focus pointed toward Chen Ren almost instantly.

“Chen Ren,” Li Xuan called, stepping forward. “It’s good to see you’re already here. I was prepared to stay here for weeks just to have the chance to challenge you to a spar.”

Well, wouldn’t that be convenient for you?

Chen Ren thought, noticing how the man looked simply happy seeing him here. He stopped a few steps away, hands loosely at his sides.

“It’s been a while, but I have some questions,” he said, not wasting any time. “Did I offend you by winning the city tournament instead of you?”

“No. You deserved that victory. After I lost consciousness, I was told everything. I heard how you defeated Gu Tian. I’ll admit it—you were my better in that tournament. I fell for his underhanded methods. You prevailed.”

Chen Ren raised a brow. “Then why are you here now, asking me for a spar if you hold no grudge?”

That was the only question he had in mind. He knew cultivators were egoistic men who’d do anything to get back on someone if they lost, but if that wasn’t the case, why was he here?

“Well,” Li Xuan straightened his shoulders. “To know if I'm better than you. I never imagined I’d say this, but I've come to see you as a wall I must overcome. You succeeded where I failed, and since that day, I've trained tirelessly to surpass you. I’m confident now. So, here I am, I want to climb over that wall.”

Chen Ren inwardly groaned.

Wall?

He had never seen himself as one.

On raw cultivation strength, Li Xuan almost certainly surpassed him now. The man’s qi was denser and more stable than before, clear proof of his progress. The only reason Chen Ren had survived against Gu Tian was because a literal dragon had intervened. But knowing the cultivation society, spirit manifestations were just a part of a cultivator’s strength.

Li Xuan’s eyes gleamed with unspoken challenge, practically begging to fight here and now. Chen Ren hesitated. Should he just accept and lose? No—that might only insult and antagonize Li Xuan further if he saw through the ploy. Could he refuse altogether?

Testing the waters, he replied. “I don’t want to fight you.”

Li Xuan’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“I have no interest in sparring. I think you’re stronger than me.”

Li Xuan frowned deeply. “We won’t know that until we spar. It doesn’t have to be life or death. I know you have your sect to think about.”

Chen Ren sighed. The man was adamant.

“Even so, I don’t see any benefit. You see me as a wall, but I’m not even fond of fights, and this is one I can avoid. So my answer is no.”

Li Xuan stared at him for a long moment, clearly weighing his next words. For a moment, he thought Li Xuan would say okay, accept his ‘no’ and be on his way.

But instead, he offered, “If you win, I’ll teach you a sword technique that has been passed down through my family for generations. I believe that would make it… interesting enough for you.”

Chen Ren might have been tempted under other circumstances. But after looting an entire sect library, he was certain he already possessed countless sword techniques. Even if Li Xuan’s style was superior, Chen Ren didn’t use a sword to begin with. None of his disciples were sword cultivators either.

“I don’t use a sword,” Chen Ren said flatly.

Li Xuan’s brow creased, but he quickly recovered. “Then I can offer a spear technique. Or a movement technique. Or even a body refinement method—”

Each offer was met with the same quiet shake of Chen Ren’s head.

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

With every rejection, Li Xuan’s expression darkened, frustration creeping steadily onto his face. He tugged his hair in the end. The silence that followed stretched uncomfortably between them.

Chen Ren let out a slow breath, convinced the man had finally given up.

“I believe I’ve rejected it enough. I’ll be taking my leave now to get some rest—”

“If you win,” Li Xuan interrupted, his voice suddenly sharp with purpose, “I’ll speak to my father to secure tax concessions for your business in Cloud Mist City. I’ll also help you obtain permits and better connections in other nearby cities.”

Chen Ren froze mid-step.

“You know my family has held lordship over the region for generations,” Li Xuan continued calmly. “I have ties with many nobles. I can open doors that would otherwise take you years to unlock.”

For a moment, Chen Ren simply stared, his mind racing.

This is too good to be true.

Greed tugged at him insistently. It was an offer no merchant could ignore. But still…

“If I lose?” Chen Ren asked warily.

“Nothing,” Li Xuan said at once. “I only want to prove to myself that I’m stronger. That’s all.”

Chen Ren narrowed his eyes. “No tricks? No hidden conditions?”

“I don’t like scheming. I’m not trying to trap you. I just want a clean answer to a single question, am I better than you?”

Chen Ren fell silent, gaze flicking between Zi Wen, Xiulan, and Yalan, all of whom were quietly watching the exchange. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he nodded.

“Fine. I’ll spar with you.”

***

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