Chapter 130: Misunderstanding

Hun Tianzhi brought the ceramic cup to his lips and sipped the slightly bitter tea. He put the cup down and his lips curved into a smile—a smile he’d used too many times that settled on his face like a second nature.

That smile had seen him through feasts and funerals, betrayals and bargains. He had worn it when bowing before meridian expansion realm elders, when rejecting marriage alliances, when being called a failure by nobles who couldn’t tell a cauldron from a chamber pot. Over time, he had learned that this facial expression was his safest armor.

But today, the smile nearly cracked.

“I want your sect… to be acquired by mine,” the young man across from him said, as if he were talking about buying buns from a street vendor.

For a moment, Hun Tianzhi felt his breath hitch. His fingers, curled around the cup, tightened. His eyebrows nearly twitched.

Acquire?

Acquire

?

The word echoed in his mind like a slap over and over again.

He breathed in slowly through his nose and let the air fill his chest before answering, forcing his voice to sound not-so enraged. “What do you mean you want to acquire my sect?” he asked. “It’s not a food cart to be bought or sold on a whim.”

Though he didn’t mean to, the last few words came out sharper than intended. He regretted it immediately, but only slightly.

But the boy, barely two decades old, gave off a smile in return.

“You already said the sect was on the verge of closing,” he said with a light shrug, “So wouldn’t it be better to give it to me, since you’re ending it anyway?”

Hun Tianzhi almost spilled the tea. But thank heavens, he didn’t. He kept his calm front and took another slow sip to hide the ripple in his thoughts. For a moment, the heat of the liquid grounded him.

It was true. He had thought about closing the sect and just moving along the next phase of his cultivation journey. He had made the mistake of saying it out loud.

But that didn’t mean he was ready to hand over the legacy he’d built from scratch with his own hands—especially not to a young cultivator with barely any experience in the real world.

He set his cup down gently.

“It’s true, Sect Leader Chen,” Hun Tianzhi said slowly, “that I mentioned the idea. But the thought of giving this sect to someone else had never crossed my mind. This humble one has no desire to become part of another sect. And…I still don’t understand what you mean by acquiring my sect.”

He wanted to know the truth. And when he thought the young man would start beating around the bush, his grin widened.

“I didn’t mean I’d buy everything you own,” he said. “It’s similar, but not exactly that.”

“Then? What do you mean?” Hun Tianzhi asked.

“The Divine Coin Sect isn’t like traditional sects,” he began. “We believe cultivation should help both mortals and cultivators live better lives—through trade, through ideas, through what the world actually needs.”

What does that mean?

He questioned the man’s intent and narrowed his eyes.

“I won’t go into every avenue we’re working on,” Chen Ren continued, “but they’ve been successful. And now, we want to take it further—into the pill market. That means we need skilled alchemists. People who know their craft. People like you and your disciples.

“My plan is to create an Alchemy Hall under Divine Coin Sect. And I want your sect to take charge of it—under your leadership, of course—with some guidance from me on how to run things.”

He kept his face still, but a twitch in his brow betrayed the stir beneath the surface. It was absurd—almost laughable. That wasn’t the path of immortals. And to be reduced to merely an alchemy hall in another sect? That was laughable for someone his standing.

Chen Ren sipped his tea as if he hadn’t just suggested that Jadefire Hall—his life’s work, the legacy built through decades of hardship—should be reduced to a branch of some fledgling sect playing shopkeeper.

Winner of the Eastern Alchemy Trials… Hun Tianzhi reminded himself. Earth-grade alchemist. Peak foundation establishment realm cultivator. And this boy dares speak of “guiding” me?

He studied Chen Ren closely, looking for cracks. But there was no nervous twitch. Heavens, help me. He didn’t even seem to realise just how insulting his words had been—or worse, he did and simply didn’t care.

But again, why was he so… confident? He was clearly only at the qi refinement realm. Sure, it was impressive for his age, but he was asking a much stronger cultivator to basically work for him.

That made Hun Tianzhi think. So, he averted his eyes from Chen Ren and looked at the tea that was cooling down.

Maybe, there was a catch. Or else there was no way a cultivator could be so foolish. But what was it?

Was it the Soaring Sword Sect he had mentioned? That might explain his boldness. But he’d said it was only a brief meeting. Not a sponsorship. Then what?

Hun Tianzhi narrowed his eyes slightly, the warmth of the tea now forgotten. He had no intention of agreeing to any of this—but he needed to see the shape of the game before walking away from the board.

“Sect Leader Chen,” he said at last, keeping his tone polite, “if you don’t mind… I’d like to know a little more about your sect before considering anything.”

Chen Ren looked up from his cup, smiled faintly, and nodded. “Of course. What would you like to know?”

Hun Tianzhi hesitated a beat, then asked the simplest question that could reveal the most. “How many elders do you have?”

Chen Ren leaned back slightly and answered, “Three, I’d say.”

Hun Tianzhi lifted his cup again and took a slow sip, using the motion to mask the flicker of suspicion growing in his mind.

Three elders?

For a sect barely known in cultivation circles?

Three?

He himself had only ever managed to attract one—and that man had left after a single winter, lured away by better offers and brighter sects. And that was when he had already stepped into the foundation establishment realm. Chen Ren was still in qi refinement.

The thought alone should’ve made him scoff. But he didn’t. Because something didn’t add up.

When Chen Ren arrived, he knew that the young cultivator came with someone and he felt that cultivation, a mirror of his own. And yet, they haven’t been introduced as an elder.

So it meant, whoever these three elders were, they were much stronger than qi refinement realm.

That confidence Chen Ren carried, the way he spoke as if the world would shift to make space for him—it wasn’t arrogance. It was

trust.

Trust in someone behind him. Someone powerful. Someone using him as the face while they worked from the shadows.

That explained everything. Especially the offer he’d made that Hun Tianzhi had no incentive to accept.

This… this surely was some sort of a plot or a test for him. Why?

How?

He had no idea, but he needed more information right now.

His throat felt a little dry. He glanced into his cup and found the tea had cooled, no steam rising. He didn’t remember how long it had been.

“You’re awfully quiet, Sect Leader Hun. Are you okay?” came Chen Ren’s voice. “I thought you had more questions.”

“Hm,” he murmured, trying to cover it. “Apologies. I was… thinking.”

He took a sip of the cold tea and placed the cup down. “You mentioned elders. None of them came with you?”

“One did. But he prefers staying inside. Doesn’t like crowds. You know how… experienced cultivators are… especially once they’ve seen the peak of their strength. They’ve got their own pace.”

There it is.

The confirmation.

Hun Tianzhi’s heart gave a slow thud, and he masked it behind a nod. If the cultivator didn’t want to go out, and just meditated and was reclusive—that was a sign of an ancient cultivator.

He cleared his throat and said lightly, “Ah, I was hoping to meet him. Learn more about other members of your sect. It would help me… understand things better before I give my answer.”

After saying that, Hun looked at Chen Ren closely, to see any sign.

There, there it is.

A small hesitation in his gaze.

It didn’t last long—barely a flicker in the boy’s eyes, the briefest shift in the corners of his mouth—but it was there. A pause where there hadn’t been one before.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Why?

Before he could dig deeper—

“I wish that was possible. But he doesn’t… give his time to others unless it’s something important. You know how older cultivators are, Sect Leader Hun. Once they’ve seen the peak of their strength, they walk a different path. They do things their own way.”

A soft beat passed.

Hun Tianzhi’s heart thudded again, heavy and deep.

Peak of strength?

That phrase echoed like a drum. There were many stages in cultivation, but only a few could say they’d truly seen the peak

.

Was it the meridian expansion realm? Golden core? Could it be legendary domain manifestation…?

Unlikely. But possible. The idea alone was staggering.

Whoever this elder was, he was stronger than Hun Tianzhi. That much was certain. But why? Why reach out now? Why his sect?

He couldn’t stop himself. “Sect Leader Chen, I understand your offer, but why… My sect? You must know—there aren’t many disciples left. We’ve barely produced anything of worth in the last year. We’re in debt.”

That last word scraped out of him.

Debt.

It tasted bitter even now. It was what had driven his students away, what had broken their morale. Some had believed they could no longer climb the mountain they once dreamed of.

“I don't mind that,” the boy said. “I’m not looking to turn your sect into a pill factory.”

Hun Tianzhi’s brow twitched.

Huh? I thought—

“I’m interested in what makes your sect different

.

You focus on research. Discovery. Not just copying what’s already been done. That’s rare. Especially in a city like this. I want you and your disciples to majorly focus on research about new pills and their recipes.”

For the first time in their conversation, Hun Tianzhi felt more interested in the offer. And somehow, the offer no longer sounded ridiculous. But he soon curbed himself.

Research…

That was what he had dreamed of doing, once. Before the debt, before the disciples fled, before the city’s pill market turned its face away from his sect. The thought alone made his pulse steady for a second. But then the doubt crept in.

Could they really afford to fund research? It wasn’t cheap. Materials, failures, more materials… and months with nothing to show for it. Could this boy’s sect really carry that weight?

Just as the question took shape in his mind, Chen Ren spoke again, this time like he had read the old man’s thoughts. “As for your debt,” he said lightly, “I’ll acquire it too.”

Hun Tianzhi blinked. “You’ll… what?”

“Your debt,” Chen Ren said again. “Five thousand low-grade spirit stones, right? That’ll be transferred to Divine Coin Sect under the agreement. If we’re going to do this, it makes no sense to let you carry that burden.”

The cup in Hun Tianzhi’s hand felt heavier. He didn’t drink. He just stared into the cold tea as the implications settled like dust in his mind.

Five thousand spirit stones.

It wasn’t just money. It was a shame. It was the weight on his shoulders that had broken the backs of his disciples. It was what had pushed away his most loyal students, what kept his head bowed at merchant guilds and made him avoid the alchemists’ halls where he once stood proud.

And now someone said he’d erase it? Just like that?

He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. His thoughts spun too fast to catch.

The offer was too generous. Ridiculously generous. A sect to run research in peace. A hall to lead, named under him. Debt would be gone. And resources would be available. A background supporter strong enough to silence enemies.

But why?

Why him?

Heavens never gave anything for free. In this world, if something sounded perfect, it meant you hadn’t seen the price tag yet.

And until he knew it, it didn’t feel right to agree. And Chen Ren, the boy didn’t press. He simply sat there after sharing his end of the deal.

“Sect Leader Chen… forgive my directness, but this offer—”

He paused, choosing his words.

“It’s too generous. I don’t understand why your sect is being so kind to someone like me.”

His voice was calm, but in his eyes flickered something that hadn’t been there for a long time—hope trying to fight off disbelief.

“Well,” Chen Ren said. “You haven’t heard how I want you to run the alchemy hall yet.”

Hun Tianzhi’s brows lifted slightly. He didn’t interrupt.

“I understand your hesitation,” Chen Ren continued. “Truly. I came to you because your philosophy aligns with what I need. You focus on the craft, not just the coin. That matters.”

“But there’s more,” he added, tone shifting. “Your location in Broken Ridge City—it’s valuable. It gives us access to a growing market and visibility in a packed city.”

Hun Tianzhi nodded slowly, the logic clear.

“I plan to absorb your debt,” Chen Ren said next, “but only if the agreement transfers that debt to Divine Coin Sect. And naturally, your tools, grounds, and hall would come under us too.”

Hun Tianzhi’s fingers curled just slightly on his knee.

“But,” Chen Ren said, “the main reason… is your history with Darkmoon Sect.”

That name.

The words hit Hun Tianzhi like a bitter pill. He never liked hearing the name of the sect that ruined him and his dreams so fast. The sect whose trap he had fallen in to be ruined.

His lips thinned. The smile that had held through this long, strange meeting wavered. “So,” he said softly, “you want to go against them.”

“Yes, I plan to take them on right here, in Broken Ridge.”

Hun Tianzhi exhaled through his nose. “Sect Leader Chen… dare I say, even if I loathe them more than anyone alive, you must understand—Darkmoon Sect isn’t something to challenge lightly. They’ll move fast. Poach your alchemists. Smear your name. Pull strings with the city lord. They’ve done it all before.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think they’ll succeed,” Chen Ren replied, unbothered. “They won’t expect someone who’s not playing their game. I’m not here to play safe. I want to make a splash—and remind this city that the pill market isn’t a monopoly. It’s a sea, and we’ve just cast our net.”

Hun Tianzhi opened his mouth. Words of caution stirred on his tongue. But then he stopped. Something shifted behind his eyes.

A thought clicked into place, fast and sharp. The confidence. The strange structure of the offer. The generous terms. The ancient cultivator who never showed his face.

Of course.

It all fits now.

Chen Ren wasn’t the one calling the real shots. There was someone older and stronger. Hidden in the shadows, backing Divine Coin Sect. Someone with history—someone who hated Darkmoon Sect as much as he did.

An elder who had been ruined by them, perhaps. Now coming back.

The elder wanted to use Chen Ren as a front to this while playing everything out in the back.

His pulse picked up, he couldn’t help it. It all made sense now.

But now came the real question. Would he do it?

Join a plan that wasn’t his. Become part of a web someone else had spun. Be a chess piece, even if that meant rising again… and maybe, just maybe,

winning

.

His fingers tightened around the edge of his robe.

Was revenge worth it?

***

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