Chapter 30: Hengtong Juyuan
Meng Xueli thought to himself, *I’m not the type to ‘sell children for profit.’ Do I look that poor?*
Little did he know, to others, the two looked like young boys, with Ji Xiao standing half a head taller, appearing more like an older brother.
In those days, Ji Xiao had to reconstruct the body of the spiritual ferret, endowing it with a human form. Besides the “Rebirth Pill” provided by the Master of Tianhu Lake, he also needed several supplementary materials.
The first time Meng Xueli came to “Hengtong Juyuan,” he had been nestled in Ji Xiao’s collar. Passing by the third floor, he saw a Beast Tamer from Beiming Mountain trading spirit beasts.
A purple rat, a red fox, and a white tiger were each trapped in separate iron cages, pacing and clawing at the doors in agitation. Nearby, a group of people were haggling, debating over five hundred low-grade spirit stones.
“Look at the fur, the quality. It’s rare in the north; this price is fair. If I didn’t need money urgently, I wouldn’t be selling it.”
“Come on, don’t exaggerate. It probably eats a lot and isn’t even that useful. Lower the price a bit!”
Peeking out from Ji Xiao’s embrace, Meng Xueli looked at the spirit beasts, which, although not as intelligent as demon beasts in the demon realm, still stirred sympathy in him.
Amidst this somber scene, he suddenly imagined Ji Xiao grabbing him by the scruff and handing him over with a straight face: “Three thousand top-grade spirit stones. This ferret is yours.”
Yet, feeling too weak due to internal injuries, he could only nuzzle softly against Ji Xiao’s neck and mutter, “Sword Sovereign, are you short on money?”
Ji Xiao, baffled, replied, “…No, not really.”
Meng Xueli felt reassured and tilted his head up to lick Ji Xiao’s chin, expressing his loyalty.
Three years had passed in a flash. The Sword Sovereign had fallen, and the world had changed.
The establishment “Hengtong Juyuan” remained steadfast, its bustling activity unchanged from before.
The building stood six stories high. The lobby was spacious, its decor antiquated. People of various accents and attire came and went in a constant stream.
“Welcome, esteemed cultivators,” a young attendant greeted them warmly. “What brings you here? For pawning, head to the first floor. For purchasing magical tools or pills, try the second floor. If you’re consigning treasures, the third floor is the place.”
Meng Xueli pulled Ji Xiao along. “I’m not here for business. I’m looking for your Manager Qian.”
The young attendant looked puzzled. “There’s no one here by that name.”
“How can that be?” Meng Xueli rubbed his nose. “Shopkeeper Qian, Manager Qian, Owner Qian—whatever you call him!”
Ji Xiao sighed inwardly, chastising himself for not being more thorough. He thought, I should have left a token with my Dao companion for situations like this. Just as he was about to explain, a middle-aged manager hurriedly descended the stairs. The sudden commotion startled both the attendants and the wandering customers, who turned to stare, thinking something major had happened.
The manager, however, bowed respectfully and said repeatedly, “My apologies for the delay. Please, esteemed guests, follow me upstairs.”
The stairs twisted and turned endlessly as the manager led the way. After the third floor, the noise gradually faded until only faint murmurs from below could be heard. Near the top floor, the only sounds left were their own footsteps.
Meng Xueli became alert, sensing something unusual. A trace of wariness rose in his heart. He instinctively quickened his pace, placing himself protectively in front of Ji Xiao.
To his surprise, there was a cultivator in the Mahayana Realm—a level on par with the sect leader of Han Shan—within “Hengtong Juyuan.” Why would someone of such power be in a pawnshop?
Meng Xueli: “Where are you taking us?”
The manager replied respectfully, “To meet Zhenren.”
Meng Xueli’s expression turned cold. “I have no interest in meeting any ‘Zhenren.’ I’m here to see Manager Qian.”
Before the manager could explain further, they reached the end of the corridor. Standing before an ornate door, the manager bowed and excused himself.
Ji Xiao, familiar with the place, pushed the door open without hesitation. Meng Xueli, worried something might happen, quickly stepped ahead of him.
His concerns were unnecessary. Inside, there were no dangerous beasts or traps, just an ordinary study. A massive desk was covered with ink brushes, account books, and an abacus.
A scholarly-looking man with youthful features stood up from behind the desk, pointing at a chair with his folding fan. “Please, have a seat.”
Meng Xueli hesitated. “And you are…?”
The scholar waved off his politeness with practiced ease. “No need for formalities. You must be Meng Xueli, Dao companion of Ji Xiao, correct?”
Meng Xueli was slightly startled. “You know me?”
It had been three years since he last left Han Shan. The last time he was here, he was in the form of a feeble spiritual ferret.
He assumed all ferrets looked the same to humans.
The scholar didn’t answer directly but scrutinized Meng Xueli’s attire. “That silver pattern on your cloak is part of an array. It’s stain-resistant and retains warmth. You won’t find another like it. In fact, outside of Han Shan’s frigid lands, you could lie on the snow in this and stay perfectly warm. Am I right?”
Meng Xueli blinked in confusion. “I wouldn’t know.”
The scholar chuckled. “You may not, but I do. This cloak was taken from here by the Sword Sovereign three years ago. That’s how I recognize you.”
Meng Xueli saw no malice in the man but couldn’t discern his intentions. “…Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. It’s only proper.”
The scholar’s eyes shifted to Ji Xiao, dressed plainly in a Han Shan disciple’s white robe. “And who might this be?”
Ji Xiao’s expression remained impassive as he stood behind Meng Xueli.
Meng Xueli introduced him solemnly, “This is my eldest disciple, Xiao Tingyun.”
The scholar admired him. “What fine aptitude!”
Meng Xueli probed cautiously, “My Dao companion once told me he kept a private storehouse here, managed by someone named Qian.”
Three years ago, Ji Xiao had been in a hurry and left with the materials he needed. Meng Xueli had no idea what Manager Qian looked like.
“That’s correct. I am Qian Yuzhi, caretaker of the Sword Sovereign’s private storehouse.” The scholar smiled. “Few have seen me here. You may address me as Qian Zhenren. If you were looking for ‘Manager Qian’ in the lobby, no one would have answered you.”
Meng Xueli nodded awkwardly, thinking, Ji Xiao never told me the manager was a Mahayana Realm cultivator.
Ji Xiao, for his part, mused, It’s been three years, and Junior Brother Qian has grown stronger.
With a flourish, Qian Yuzhi unfolded his fan. Its white surface bore four large inked characters: “Harmony Begets Wealth.”
He fanned himself lightly and asked, “Elder Meng, are you here to collect spirit stones, or do you need magical tools or pills?”
Meng Xueli sat down, casually glancing at Ji Xiao. “We’re here to see the private treasury. Is it convenient to open it now?”
Ji Xiao coughed softly. He had assumed that his young Dao companion had come down the mountain to the city merely to fetch a few magical tools—after all, as a new master, it was normal to prepare a gift for his disciple’s initiation.
“The ‘private treasury’ is more of a concept,” Qian Yuzhi said, as though hearing something amusing but holding back laughter. “The Sword Sovereign’s assets are countless—shops, banks, you name it—and that doesn’t even include those outside the mortal realm. Just pawnshops of this scale alone number over six hundred… If Elder Meng wishes to inspect the storage warehouse of ‘Hengtong Juyuan,’ we can certainly open it.”
Meng Xueli realized he might have made a joke of himself. “I see…”
Qian Yuzhi, assuming Meng Xueli’s youth made him ignorant, patiently explained, “After the Sword Sovereign achieved enlightenment and ascension, many sects visited Han Shan Mountain with gifts in celebration. Around that time, an unclaimed spirit stone vein was discovered near the boundary of the North and South regions. The cultivation world took it as an auspicious sign and offered it as a congratulatory gift for his sanctification. However, he had no interest in mundane matters and refused to manage the vein. Thus, I took over the financial matters on his behalf, charging him a five percent fee annually for management.
“With wealth generating more wealth, the profits compounded. Pawnshops turned into trading firms, and this has been the system for over a century. He’s never concerned himself with whether the business thrives or fails. Whenever he lacks something or needs materials, he simply comes here to find me. The largest expense in recent years was the construction of Changchun Peak.”
Meng Xueli, who only knew about Ji Xiao’s legendary feats, found this glimpse into his past life fascinating. His eyes sparkled with curiosity, and he nodded repeatedly.
Qian Yuzhi, watching his youthful enthusiasm, thought to himself, This is still just a child. At the time of their union, he was only sixteen—Senior Brother Ji Xiao had no shame taking such a young partner.
From a hidden compartment in the bookshelf behind him, Qian Yuzhi retrieved a slim ledger. “This is the initial account book from a century ago.”
He pointed at the towering shelves that reached the ceiling. “These are the ledgers from recent years.”
Finally, he tapped the stack of books piled on the desk with his fan. “This is the latest general ledger, just calculated last night on New Year’s Eve. Please, Elder Meng, feel free to review them.”
Meng Xueli froze for a moment before saying, “…You’ve worked hard.”
Qian Yuzhi waved it off. “Not at all. I’m merely a supervisor. Watching the bookkeepers calculate with their abacuses is genuinely entertaining.”
Meng Xueli didn’t share this sentiment. He opened one of the ledgers, finding the handwriting neat and the format clear.
However, after reading a few pages, his head began to spin, his ears buzzing. He couldn’t discern the difference between high-grade and low-grade magical tools, the specific values of rare spiritual herbs, or what constituted normal annual revenue for a pawnshop.
Let me compete in swordsmanship instead, he thought.
Seeing his pale complexion, Qian Yuzhi began brewing tea. Ji Xiao handed Meng Xueli a teacup. “Don’t rush.”
After thinking it over, Meng Xueli decided to give up entirely. Specialized tasks require specialists, he thought. Maybe Ji Xiao doesn’t understand this stuff either.
Meng Xueli asked, “If we were to convert all the magical tools, pills, and spiritual herbs in the private treasury into spirit stones—everything without exception—how much would there be? A few million? Tens of millions?”
Qian Yuzhi chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve never studied accounting, so numbers may not mean much to you. Let me give you an example instead: The ‘Eternal Spring Formation’ consumes thirty thousand spirit stones annually. With three million, it could run for a hundred years, correct?”
Meng Xueli nodded, thinking, Three million is a lot.
Qian Yuzh: “From today onward, if I sent you three million spirit stones every day, it would take fifteen hundred years to deplete the private treasury. Do you know how long fifteen hundred years is? It’s enough time to establish another Han Shan Sword Sect.”
Meng Xueli’s mouth fell open slightly. After a long pause, he finally uttered, “Ah?”
Ji Xiao gently patted his hand in a gesture of reassurance.
Meng Xueli snapped out of his daze, coughing lightly. “I lost my composure. I simply didn’t realize my Dao companion had so much wealth.”
Ji Xiao thought to himself, Even I don’t know where I’d get that much money.
Qian Yuzhi, waving his “Harmony Begets Wealth” folding fan, smiled and said, “When someone becomes strong and famous, all the best resources in the world naturally gravitate toward them, whether intentionally or not. That’s just how the world works. For someone like Sword Sovereign, could he ever not have money? That would be even harder to imagine.”
Meng Xueli, puzzled, thought for a moment before saying, “That’s not it—it’s because of you. You manage things so well! Does he forbid you from cultivating and only let you do this sort of thing?”
Qian Yuzhi paused, startled. “I enjoy doing this. In the entire Han Shan Sect, only Senior Brother Ji Xiao and Senior Brother Hu Si understand me. That’s how I got to be the ‘Private Treasury Manager.’ Elder Meng, you’re not planning to dismiss me and make me go back to sword training, are you?”
Hearing him mention Han Shan Sect and refer to Ji Xiao and Hu Si as senior brothers, Meng Xueli quickly clarified, “No, no, it’s a misunderstanding. So you’re from the Han Shan Sword Sect?” He couldn’t help but wonder about his relationship with Ji Xiao.
Ji Xiao sighed inwardly, knowing that the ridiculous past events of Han Shan would now be revealed to his partner.
Sure enough, Qian Yuzhi sighed as well. “This is a long story…”
Meng Xueli poured him tea and encouraged, “No rush, start from the beginning.”
Qian Yuzhi’s expression turned nostalgic. “When I was a child, my family ran a pawn shop. I grew up knowing how to do accounting, handle money, and serve customers. My parents always said I was born for business. When I was twelve, I encountered an elder from the Han Shan Sect recruiting disciples. They discovered I had a natural talent for swordsmanship, and before I knew it, I was swept into the sect.
“Everyone said cultivation was a good thing—living for centuries, if not forever. My master believed I was exceptionally gifted and had high expectations for me, so I trained hard to not disappoint him. Later, when the Sword Sovereign wanted to appoint a new peak master, he planned to entrust Zhongbi Peak to me… But by then, my master had passed away, and no one was there to push me to train. I suddenly started to question the purpose of cultivation. Longevity? Ascension? If it doesn’t bring happiness, living for centuries would only be a torment. I didn’t want to be a peak master or even train in swordsmanship. But no one else understood this.”
Had this been in the days when Meng Xueli was the Snow Mountain King, he would have scoffed at such words—dismissing them as naive. In the demon realm, it was survival of the fittest, and the strong ruled. However, having lived another life, he had learned to accept differing perspectives. He asked, “If others didn’t understand you, did Ji Xiao Zhenren?”
Qian Yuzhi knocked on the table with his fan. “Of course he did. Senior brother didn’t like sword training either!”
Ji Xiao thought, It’s not the same. Hu Si was obsessed with miscellaneous studies and disliked swordsmanship, but you dislike cultivation altogether.
It was like comparing a child who loved reading but hated school to one who disliked both.
Still, forcing someone to do something they hated would only backfire. Could anyone force you to be a peak master with a sword at your throat?
Qian Yuzhi continued, “When I decided to leave the mountain, it was as if a weight lifted from my shoulders. I just love making money, counting money, and running businesses. There’s nothing wrong with that. Even if it’s only for a few decades, I want to live the life I enjoy. Let them laugh if they want—it doesn’t bother me.”
He had no desire to elevate a lake to the heavens, transcending worldly affairs, nor to change the world by imposing new rules. All he wanted was to accept himself.
Meng Xueli was captivated by the story. “And then?”
“Then the Sword Sovereign appointed my junior brother as Zhongbi Peak’s master. He did an excellent job. As for me, I got what I wanted—peace of mind. With the clearing of long-standing frustrations, my cultivation improved dramatically. Everyone was happy!”
Ji Xiao silently lamented, Nonsense. Where did your junior brother did a good job?
He had forged Ji Xiao’s handwriting to sell works to Qian Yuzhi, did he think he wouldn’t notice?
Author’s Note:
Qian Zhenren: Thanks for the invitation. I have no interest in practicing swordsmanship, I only want to make money.
Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.
