Dao of Money-Chapter 68: Star qi

Chen Ren didn’t particularly enjoy traveling in this world—at least, not by carriage.

The world itself was great. The air was thick with qi, filling his lungs with a refreshing energy that never left him feeling truly exhausted. Towering trees lined the roads, their canopies swaying lazily in the breeze. Rivers cut through fields like silver threads, their waters clear enough to reflect the sky. Everything looked like it had been plucked straight out of a painting.

But none of that changed the fact that the roads were terrible.

The carriage rattled and shook with every pothole, the wooden wheels groaned under the uneven road. And every bump sent a jolt through his spine, and no matter how he adjusted his posture, there was no such thing as comfort. The seats were stiff, the air inside stuffy, and the constant swaying made even resting a chore.

He figured this was mostly a mortal problem. The real cultivators—those who had stepped beyond these struggles—soared through the skies on flying swords, rode atop spirit beasts, or, if they were truly powerful, summoned floating boats like the one Elder Yan Xiu had used. Compared to that, his carriage might as well have been a wooden box strapped to a herd of drunk oxen.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t at that level yet.

The only upside was the frequent stops. Small villages dotted their path, giving the horses and travelers a chance to rest. Chen Ren took these breaks as an opportunity to stretch his legs—literally. While others stretched their backs or loosened their stiff limbs, he ran.

His body moved effortlessly, his feet barely touching the ground before propelling him forward again. The wind rushed past his face, and the pounding of hooves beside him was nothing but a background rhythm. Even when the carriage started rolling again, he kept up easily, the horses unable to leave him behind. It was better than sitting.

Of course, he didn’t spend the entire journey running meaninglessly. He had long since shed his laziness in this world, and he wasn’t about to waste time lounging in the carriage.

Instead, he trained. Whenever they took breaks, and he wasn’t running, he trained.

Not in his lightning techniques—those came naturally, instinctively. No, this time, he focused on something new. A technique he had won in the tournament.

[Starlight Defense], an Earth grade defensive technique.

The name was fancy, but in the world of cultivation, that was normal. He had heard of techniques like [Palm That Cuts the River] and [Immortal Fist of the Heavens.] Compared to those, [Starlight Defense] was straightforward. It did exactly what its name suggested—used the qi of the stars and moon to form a protective barrier around the user.

The diagrams in the manual showed a shimmering cover of light forming over the body, covering vital points like armor woven from the night sky. It sounded impressive. It looked impressive. But there was a catch.

Chen Ren opened his eyes and exhaled, watching the stars stretch across the sky.

He could only cultivate it at night.

“So apparently, it’s mostly potent at night since it uses the qi of the stars and moon,” Chen Ren muttered, leaning back against a fallen log. He picked on the grass beneath them as his eyes shifted from the technique manual in his lap. “I can still use it in the morning, but it won’t be nearly as strong.” He sighed, gaze flickering toward the sky, where the moon had begun its slow climb. “It’s powerful—it’s an Earth-grade technique, after all—but I don’t know how to get around this flaw.”

Across from him, Yalan was sprawled on the grass, stretching her small body. A few paces away, Hong Yi crouched over a pot, stirring the venison soup he had thrown together after hunting a deer. Anji and Zi Han sat nearby, murmuring about something he didn’t bother listening to.

High above, perched on a low-hanging branch, Whiskey lazily chewed on a berry, his tail flicking in amusement.

Yalan glanced up from the fire that was in the middle of them, meeting his gaze. “I don’t think it’s much of a flaw,” she said casually.

Chen Ren frowned. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, she purred. “Use the technique.”

He raised an eyebrow. There was no hesitation in her tone, just quiet confidence. Well, there was no harm in trying.

Without another word, he shut his eyes and exhaled slowly, letting his focus sink into the world around him.

Ever since stepping into the qi refinement realm, everything had changed. Almost as if the world has opened itself to him, in terms of spiritual energy mixed in the air. He had even gotten better at recognising different types of qi. It was eye opening, and felt like a whole different level of enlightenment. Before, it had been like looking at a river from a distance—he knew it was there, but it was unreachable. Now, he stood at the river’s edge, able to dip his hands into the flow. ꭆαΝꝋＢƐȿ

And right now, he was searching for something specific.

Star qi.

It wasn’t as easy to grasp as his lightning qi, which surged and crackled like a living storm within him. The celestial qi was distant, slow-moving, as if existing on a different plane. But as he focused, the mantra of [Starlight Defense] running through his mind, something shifted.

A pull.

The energy trickled toward him, slow but steady. He guided it into his body, moving it through his meridians, letting it flow across his skin. It was subtle at first, like cool mist settling over him. Then, as the technique took hold, the mist thickened.

When he opened his eyes, his entire body shimmered with a faint bluish light. A transparent armor, woven from qi itself, clung to him, covering his vitals in an otherworldly glow. There was no weight to it, no restriction in movement, but he felt different. More protected. More... stable.

Yalan studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Not bad. Looks like a solid technique.”

Chen Ren let out a breath, the glow flickering slightly. “Yeah, it is.” He flexed his fingers, watching the way the qi shifted over his knuckles before fading. “But like I said, the problem is during the day. There’s barely any star or moon qi to draw from. It’s not like my other techniques where I can just use my own aspected qi.”

His voice was steady, but the frustration was there. A technique was only as useful as its availability—and this one, no matter how strong, came with a major limitation. He knew the sun was a star too, but for some reason, the qi was completely different than the one he would feel at night and he wouldn't be able to use it.

“There’s very little star qi in the air during the morning,” Chen Ren said, shaking his head. “That’s the issue.”

Yalan didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she gave him a long, narrowed-eyed look, the kind that made him shift uncomfortably. Then, with a pointed tone, she asked, “Do you really think that technique is so rigid?”

Chen Ren frowned. “What do you mean?”

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I’ll give you a hint.” Her gaze flickered to the sky before closing. “Earth-grade techniques are superior to mortal ones. Starting from this grade, techniques are thoroughly designed—none of them should have such a glaring flaw unless they’re extremely specialized. That means there’s already a way to use your defense technique in the day without losing effectiveness. You just have to think about it.”

Then she went quiet.

She didn’t elaborate, didn’t offer any further clues. Just sat there, calmly, as if waiting for him to figure it out on his own.

Chen Ren turned her words over in his mind. A way to use [Starlight Defense] in the morning? How? There was no way to create star qi—at least, none that he knew of. Even if there was, he didn’t have the ability to do it.

He kept thinking, running through different possibilities. If he couldn’t generate it, what could he do? He considered how the technique worked—pulling in celestial qi from the environment, shaping it into armor. Seconds turned to minutes as he thought of ways to use the technique at all periods.

And then it hit him.

He looked up sharply. “The way to do it… is to store star qi in my body so I can use it during the day.”

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Yalan nodded, opening her eyes and looking at him. “Exactly. It won’t be easy, though. Star qi is aspected—your body isn’t naturally aligned with it. But you can still store a limited amount, then recharge it at night. It’s a good system. And while I think you’ll get a better defensive technique eventually, at your current realm, this one will protect you from most attacks.”

Chen Ren hummed, considering her words. She was right. [Starlight Defense] wasn’t perfect, but it was strong. If he could master this method, he’d have a reliable defense at all times.

“Alright,” he said, flexing his fingers. “Let me try it.”

Closing his eyes again, he focused on the qi in the sky—the faint traces of star energy that lingered in the night air. It was distant but present, subtle but steady. He pulled it in, guiding it through his meridians, feeling the energy settle against his skin.

This time, though, he didn’t shape it into armor. Instead, he directed it inward, trying to absorb it into his body.

But the moment the star qi entered him, it slipped away just as easily.

He frowned and tried again, pulling in the energy, attempting to hold onto it. Again, it leaked out as if refusing to stay. Over and over, he repeated the process, adjusting, focusing—but each time, the qi escaped, like water slipping through cupped hands.

Eventually, he exhaled sharply, opening his eyes. A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead. “It’s not working,” he admitted. “Every time I take in the star qi, it just escapes again.”

Across from him, Yalan simply snickered. “Did you really think it would be that easy?” She tilted her head slightly and scoffed. “Of course, you need to practice. It won’t stick right away.”

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Chen Ren sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He had expected a challenge, but this was trickier than he thought.

“Fortunately for you,” Yalan continued, gesturing toward the carriage in the distance, “we have a long journey ahead. Plenty of time to get it right.”

Chen Ren let out a breath, nodding. “Yeah… I guess I better start working on it.”

***

Throughout the journey, Chen Ren’s focus remained on [Starlight Defense]. Each night, under the vast expanse of the sky, he worked to absorb more and more star qi, trying to store it within himself. At first, it was frustrating—each time he gathered the energy, it slipped away before he could make use of it.

But persistence paid off.

Gradually, he refined his control. The trick, he realized, wasn’t to store the excess star qi in his dantian—where it would dissipate too easily—but within his body itself. His skin, his veins, his very flesh became a reservoir, holding the celestial energy like a sponge soaking up water. With this method, the qi lingered longer, and when he called upon it, it responded instantly, forming the protective barrier without delay.

By the time he had a firm grasp of the technique, they had reached their first destination, Black Lotus Town.

It was a place known for two things—its barley, which was sought after by breweries across the region, and its blacksmiths, whose work was said to rival even sect forges. Obviously, that one was a rumour since there were only mortal blacksmiths in the town, but their skill was still considered to be high.

More importantly, it was the place Hong Yi dreaded to come back to. His sect lay to the left of the town, built into the side of a mountain, looming in the distance and due to that, the man's trepidation was understandable.

As they moved through the streets, the air smelled of roasting grains and hot iron.

And for what had to be the hundredth time, Hong Yi asked, “Are you really sure about this?”

Zi Han walked beside Chen Ren on his left, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. Anji had opted to rest at the inn with Whiskey, exhausted from the long journey. As for Yalan? She had disappeared the moment they entered town, wandering off on her own, as usual.

Chen Ren exhaled through his nose, glancing at Hong Yi. “I’ve already told you what I’m going to do.” His gaze turned serious. “Do you really want to live the life of a deserter forever?”

He expected Hong Yi to flinch at the words, but when he turned to look at him properly—he froze for the third time since they had entered the city.

It wasn’t Hong Yi standing next to him.

The man beside him had a different face—plain, forgettable. His sharp features were gone, replaced with a smoother, almost… regular look. He looked like every other guy on the street. Even his usual dark hair had disappeared, leaving him completely bald.

But when he spoke again, his voice hadn’t changed. “It’s not that simple.”

Chen Ren’s gaze flickered back to the street, taking a deep breath.

Skin mask is really a useful yet creepy artifact. It will take a bit of time to get used to Hong Yi looking so different.

It was a cultivation tool—one that Hong Yi had acquired at the same place he had found his inheritance. It was an artifact used by meridian expansion realm cultivators, capable of altering a person’s entire appearance with just a thought. Even other cultivators would struggle to see through its disguise unless they were of a much higher realm or had a specialized technique.

This was the reason Hong Yi had managed to evade his sect for so long. And the reason he dared to come so close to it now.

Hong Yi sighed. “I don’t want to be a deserter. But what you’re planning… it’s dangerous. What if it goes wrong?” His voice was quieter now. “They’ll certainly be suspicious of you.”

Chen Ren met Hong Yi’s concerned gaze and exhaled. “Yes, I’m aware,” he admitted, “but I’m confident that if anything happens, I’ll be able to run away. You already told me about all the escape routes I can take, and I’ll have Yalan with me, so there’s not much to worry about.”

Even as he said that, though, he was worried.

After all, his plan required him to willingly walk into the jaws of an Established sect to discuss a deserter. Cultivators weren’t exactly known for their patience, and he wouldn’t put it past them to attack first and ask questions later. The only reason he was still going through with it was the combined protection of the cat and the plan he had carefully put together—one that relied entirely on his ability to act.

Still, no point in making Hong Yi more anxious than he already was. Chen Ren patted him on the shoulder. “Just relax. You don’t have to do anything. Focus on preparing for your spot in the Divine Coin Sect.”

Hong Yi hesitated before nodding.

Just then, Chen Ren spotted what he had been looking for—a blacksmith’s shop.

Weapons of all kinds were displayed in front of the open stall, their sharp edges gleaming under the torchlight. Behind them, a forge burned hot, illuminating the muscular silhouettes of several young apprentices hard at work. Sparks flew as they hammered away at glowing steel, their faces streaked with sweat.

As Chen Ren approached, one of the apprentices—a lanky youth with soot on his face—looked up from his work and walked over. “What are you looking for? A sword? Armor? Mace?”

Chen Ren shook his head. “None of that.” His gaze flickered toward the forge. “I’m looking for the blacksmith who owns this shop. I have something to ask him.”

The boy frowned. “Master doesn’t meet just anyone.”

Chen Ren’s lips curled slightly. “I’m not just anyone. I’m a cultivator.”

At that, his expression shifted. He gave Chen Ren a once-over, then glanced at Zi Han and Hong Yi. His eyes lingered Chen Ren again after that, clearly sensing the quiet strength hidden beneath his composed exterior. Deciding this was well beyond his pay rate, he quickly turned and ran toward the forge.

A moment later, a large, burly man stepped forward. His arms were thick with muscle and hair, his shirt rolled up to reveal the burns and scars. His beard was streaked with gray, but his posture carried the confidence of a man who had been forging weapons longer than most people had been alive.

“I heard an esteemed cultivator is looking for me,” the blacksmith said and eyed Chen Ren down. “I’m Forger Tai. How can I help you?”

Chen Ren nodded. “I don’t want to buy anything,” he said, reaching into his robes. “I have a diagram here, and I’m wondering if you’d be able to make something similar.”

He pulled out a rolled-up parchment and handed it over.

The blacksmith took it with a grunt, unrolling it. His brow furrowed as he examined the sketch, his gaze tracing every line, every detail. After a long moment, he muttered, “This isn’t any weapon I’ve seen before.” Tai lifted his head, looking at Chen Ren with narrowed eyes. “What can it even do?”

Chen Ren tapped the diagram. “It’s a ranged weapon,” he explained. “It fires projectiles into the air faster than any bow, and it has lethal explosive power.”

The blacksmith frowned, squinting at the lines and notations on the parchment. He turned the diagram sideways as if that would help him understand it better, then scratched his beard. “A ranged weapon with explosive power?”

Chen Ren nodded.

Tai muttered something under his breath and kept studying the sketch. He asked a few questions—how the projectiles were launched, what kind of force it used, what materials were needed—but the more Chen Ren answered, the more his frown deepened. His thick fingers traced the lines of the design, his brows knitting together in concentration, but in the end, he let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can make this. I’m only good with practical weapons—blades, axes, hammers. This… looks like some sort of cultivation artifact.”

Chen Ren’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t expected that response. It wasn’t an artifact, not really—just something this world hadn’t seen before. But even if he tried to explain further, it was clear the blacksmith wouldn’t be able to craft it.

So, he nodded. “I understand.”

Turning to his comrades, he said, “Let’s try more shops.”

Black Lotus Town was known for its blacksmiths—surely one of them had to be capable of making the weapon.

But as they moved from one forge to the next, they received the same responses. Every blacksmith looked at the diagram with confusion, some with curiosity, but all of them eventually admitted defeat. No one could say with confidence that they could craft such a weapon.

By the time they left the last shop, the sun had dipped lower in the sky. Chen Ren exhaled, glancing at Hong Yi and Zi Han. “It seems like we’ll have no luck here,” he said. “Unfortunate.”

Hong Yi nodded, but Zi Han tilted his head slightly, eyes flicking back to the rolled-up diagram. “What even is that weapon, Sect Leader Chen?”

Chen Ren looked at him for a moment before answering. “One of the deadliest weapons in the world. There’s no production of it in the empire yet, but once I find someone capable of making it, our sect will become very formidable.”

“That strong?” Zi Han asked. Chen Ren could see the adrenaline that rushed to his eyes at the mention of power.

He nodded at that.

Hong Yi, however, remained thoughtful, eyes distant. Chen Ren placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Either way, let’s leave the weapon for later,” he said. “For now, we need to deal with your Blood Iron Sect and make you a free man.”

Hong Yi inhaled slowly, then nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

***

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