Dao of Money-Chapter 107: Fuk yu

The effect of his words was immediate. A pause followed, almost as if everyone was holding their breath.

Wang Fu and the two other cultivators stood frozen, their faces painted with shock. It would have been almost funny to anyone who knew the truth— that Chen Ren’s so-called "vault guardian" act was nothing more than smoke and mirrors. But he kept his face calm, playing his role without a hint of hesitation.

The real secret to his success, he knew, wasn’t just his acting. It was Yalan, quietly in his robes.

The three cultivators in front of him shifted uncomfortably. Chen Ren could see it clearly—the way their shoulders tightened, the way their fingers twitched near their weapons. If not for their leader, Wang Fu, he was certain the other two would have already bolted. Their faces grew paler with each passing second, the fear of facing a meridian expansion realm cultivator sinking deep into their bones.

Chen Ren allowed the moment to stretch, then spoke again.

"For your insolence in trying to flood this place. Fuk Yu of Void Blade Sect would make sure you all drown under the crushing pressure of water. You would not even have time to take a final breath. Your bodies would be left floating, a warning left by the wrath of Void Blade Sect."

For a heartbeat, the only sound was the faint rustling of the wind.

Then Wang Fu laughed—a short, sharp, rich sound. "Void Blade Sect is dead," he said. "Our sect destroyed it. Flattened it to the ground. Nothing of that name exists anymore. You are protecting the legacy of a graveyard, nothing more."

He tilted his chin up. "Give up the act. Surrender the vault, and our sect will be merciful. We might even spare your life."

For a second, Chen Ren blinked, taken aback. Not because of the stock of Wang Fu's words. That was no latest information—but because of the sheer arrogance dripping from him. The man was clearly no match for the level of power Chen Ren was pretending to have. And yet, here he was, speaking with the confidence of someone who believed he held all the cards.

It was almost amusing. Almost.

Was it because he was confident in his sect’s backing? Or was it something else? Was the man simply hiding his true strength under that easy arrogance?

Despite the questions swirling in his mind, Chen Ren didn’t let a hint of doubt show on his face. Instead, he forced a pained expression, as if Wang Fu’s words had struck a nerve.

"Is that... true?" he asked in a low voice, sounding almost wounded.

One of the other cultivators, gathering courage from their leader’s boldness, quickly added, "It is. But if you open the sect vault for us, we’ll reward you. We’ll grant you an elder position in Blazing Ember Sect. You’re wasting your life here, guarding a legacy that no longer exists."

Chen Ren narrowed his eyes slightly, hiding his amusement. Again, that strange, misplaced confidence. Even if two of them looked like they were ready to bolt at the first sign of a fight, they were still pushing forward, betting on the idea that loyalty to a dead sect wouldn’t hold... or maybe they knew something he didn’t.

Either way, he held the act firmly, letting his anger show—no, letting it boil. A growl rumbled from his throat as he straightened his back and glared at them.

"Then," Chen Ren said, "it is prudent that I kill all of you here... and then take revenge against your sect for what you did to mine."

Before the words had even finished echoing across the hall, Yalan gave a tiny signal through mind. The message was sent to Anji.

A few heartbeats later, a deep, grinding noise filled the air. It was the sound of old gears—heavy with rust, protesting against the passage of years—finally turning once again.

For a breath, Chen Ren worried the old trap might fail completely. But in truth, he didn’t need it to work perfectly. If it couldn’t be a weapon, let it be a distraction. And surprisingly, it worked.

Immediately, the three cultivators’ heads snapped around, eyes wide, hands twitching toward their weapons.They weren’t looking at him anymore. They were looking for traps, for hidden attacks, for anything that might spring upon them from the dark.

And then, as if the heavens had decided to bless his gamble, it happened. From cracks in the walls, from unseen drains above, a rush of water began to pour into the room—clear at first, then dark with the grime of ages.

The gates of the chamber shuddered once—then began to close, groaning like beasts dragged from slumber.

Chen Ren didn’t move. He simply smiled—his lips stretching coldly—as the water lapped against the floor and the realization began to dawn on the three cultivators that they were trapped.

The three cultivators panicked the moment the water touched their boots. They bolted for the door, abandoning any thought of fighting back.

That was exactly what Chen Ren had been waiting for.

Before they could reach the narrowing gap of the gate, Yalan moved. She shot out from behind Chen Ren like a streak of flame, targeting the one he had marked earlier—the second foundation establishment realm cultivator.

With a swipe of her hands, burning symbols took shape in the air, massive, clawed emblems that seemed to roar with fire. The man barely managed to raise a burning shield in front of himself, formed in desperation at the last second.

It didn’t save him.

The burning claws crashed into him, raking across his face, neck, and chest, tearing flesh from bone. He stumbled back with a strangled cry, blood spraying across the wet floor.

But Yalan didn’t stop. Her tail ignited behind her, flames surging outward as she launched fireballs at the wounded cultivator. Despite the man’s obvious fire resistance, the blazing attacks scorched through his defenses, blackening his skin and armor.

Even wounded, the cultivator tried to fight back, qi surging around his body in wild, chaotic streams. But Yalan was already on him — a flash of burning claws slashing through the half-formed qi shield — ending his life before he could even stand properly. Two more left.

Chen Ren didn’t have time to celebrate. He turned his gaze toward the entrance.

There, Hong Yi and his puppets were holding the line — barely. One puppet was already a shattered heap on the ground, its broken arms twitching uselessly, probably destroyed by Wang Fu himself. The other was locked in a brutal struggle against the third cultivator—a mere qi refinement realm fighter, but still slippery enough to hold his ground.

As for Hong Yi… He was struggling.

Chen Ren could see it clearly. Hong Yi darting, weaving, ducking next to the remaining puppet, barely dodging the fire-aspected spear strikes Wang Fu hurled at him. The air around the spear shimmered with heat, and wherever it struck, it left burning scars on the stone.

Hong Yi wouldn’t last long.

Chen Ren didn’t hesitate. "Yalan! Help Hong Yi! I'll deal with the other one!"

Yalan snapped her head toward him, eyes flashing, then pivoted sharply, already moving toward Hong Yi and Wang Fu without a second thought.

Chen Ren shifted his focus, stepping forward toward the remaining qi refinement cultivator. His expression hardened. It was time to clean up.

The last cultivator had already unleashed a blazing tornado, sending it roaring toward the remaining puppet. The puppet braced itself and took the full brunt of the flames, but Chen Ren could see chunks of it burning away. In the end, it was made of wood—no match for a fire-aspected cultivator.

Chen Ren didn't waste time. Lightning surged through his legs, crackling with raw energy as he pushed off the ground, closing the distance in a blur of speed.

The cultivator barely had time to react before Chen Ren’s palm strike slammed into him. But instead of crumpling, the man’s armor flared with defensive runes, taking the hit and dispersing the force.

The latter stumbled back a step, looking down at himself and then up at Chen Ren. Realization twisted his face.

"You’re a bloody imposter!" he snarled. "I’ll kill you!"

Flames burst to life around him, spiraling up his arms, wreathing his body in searing heat. Chen Ren reacted immediately, willing the power of his [Starlight Defense Technique] to unfold around him.

Star qi shimmered across his skin, forming a glowing, translucent shield that wrapped around him like a second skin. The heat of the man’s flames washed over him — but the starlight armor held strong, the brilliance of countless stars scattering the fire harmlessly away.

Chen Ren didn’t slow. He let the lightning flood his core again, channeling it into his limbs, and unleashed a [Lightning Frenzy]. It was not an easy combination—maintaining both defense and offense at the same time. The drain on his reserves was heavy, the pressure to control both techniques in balance was immense.

But it was a good thing that he had practiced for this exact kind of battle. In the heat of combat, he could endure.

He struck again, fists and palms moving with blinding speed, each blow crackling with electric fury. The cultivator’s armor absorbed most of the strikes but not without cost. And he saw it, how the cultivator’s arms shook slightly each time lightning traveled through the armor, jolting his muscles.

Tiny openings. Mistakes waiting to happen.

They moved across the flooded floor, sparks and fire flying between them.

Chen Ren was faster, lighter on his feet, and then landing palm strikes and lightning-laced bursts of elemental energy. His opponent, now clearly a battle-hardened scout, wielded a pair of daggers short, brutal things meant for fast kills. He supplemented them with occasional ranged flame attacks, forcing Chen Ren to dodge and weave between strikes.

The scout wasn’t as fast as Chen Ren, but he made up for it with sheer toughness and sharp instincts born from countless battles. Each dagger thrust was annoyingly accurate, each counterattack efficient.

But Chen Ren was no ordinary fighter. What he lacked in sheer battle experience, he more than made up for with his resourcefulness and his creative use of a cultivator’s tools.

As he twisted away from another dagger thrust, his hands flicked forward with practiced ease. Small pills inconspicuous at a glance flew toward the man.

At this distance, the scout had no time to dodge. Instead, he instinctively countered with a surge of flames, trying to incinerate the strange objects before they could reach him.

Exactly what Chen Ren had wanted.

The moment the fire touched the pills, a chain reaction erupted. A deafening series of explosions tore through the air, rattling the very walls of the ancient vault. The shockwaves slammed into the scout, hurling him across the room like a broken doll.

Thud!

He crashed into the far wall with a sickening thud, leaving a bloody smear where he slid down. His armor was scorched, his skin burned raw, blood flowing freely from open wounds.

Chen Ren stood still, breathing hard, his lightning arcing faintly around him as he watched.

The man should have been dead. By all rights, he should have been nothing more than a charred corpse after a hit like that.

But he wasn’t.

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With a ragged breath, the scout staggered back onto his feet, swaying unsteadily. There was no strategy in his movements now, only raw, desperate instinct keeping him upright.

Chen Ren narrowed his eyes. And then, just as he expected, the man disappeared.

A blur a shadow in the corner of his vision and then nothing. Gone.

But Chen Ren didn’t panic. Anji had warned him about this about the scout’s stealth techniques, about how he could vanish even in open battle. It had happened. So he stayed exactly where he was, muscles coiled tight, even his own breathing controlled. He was listening.

Trying to catch any hint of movement, even a shift of the air, but it was nearly impossible. The loud noises that surrounded him with Yalan’s roars, Hong Yi’s desperate strikes, and the grinding of the ancient walls were too much noise. He couldn’t pick out anything clean.

So he changed his approach.

"I'm sorry about your sister," Chen Ren called out. "I swear... it was a quick death—"

He didn’t get to finish.

The moment the words left his mouth, every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Without thinking, he dropped his body low, the instinct honed from being in life and death situations kicking in.

A blade whistled through the air where his head had been a split second earlier. Before the scout could recover, Chen Ren surged forward, slamming his shoulder into the wounded man’s gut, driving him hard into the cracked stone wall.

The scout coughed, blood spraying from his mouth, but his eyes—His eyes burned with rage.

Scorched, bleeding, half-crippled — and still he fought.

Chen Ren grimaced.

"I'll kill you!" the scout spat, blood foaming at the corners of his mouth. "I'll fucking kill you for what you did to my sister—and then I'll find your family and raze them to the ground! You will not leave this room alive! "

Chen Ren gave him a blank look.

"You talk too much."

He punctuated the words with a brutal punch straight to the man's throat. The scout's mouth flew open in a gagging gasp, and Chen Ren didn’t waste the chance.

He shoved a small pill between the man's teeth and forced it down his throat, pressing hard until the scout reflexively swallowed. Immediately, the man tried to retaliate, flames gathering around his hands but his daggers had been lost during the tackle, leaving him slower, sloppier.

"Wrong move," Chen Ren said. His words came out sharper.

Lightning crackled around him as he surged backward, putting distance between himself and the scout. The man staggered to his feet, coughing, confused until the realization hit him.

His eyes widened in horror, but it was too late.

With a sickening crack, part of his stomach erupted outward, blood and intestines splattering across the floor. Another explosion of flesh followed, tearing through his chest and arms.

He didn’t even have the chance to scream. His vital organs were shredded from the inside, and his body collapsed in a ruined heap, unmoving, blood pooling around him.

Chen Ren stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, watching the body to make sure it didn’t twitch again. Only when he was sure did he let out a small sigh of relief.

He hadn't been sure if the [Fireburst Pills]—lethal concoctions designed to ignite qi inside the body—would work. A skilled cultivator, one more focused, might have forced the pill back out, or sealed their qi to prevent the explosion.

But rage had clouded the scout’s mind. In his blind anger, he had instinctively used his qi to burn the pill and sealed his own fate.

Chen Ren flexed his fingers once, letting the last traces of lightning fade from his limbs. Then he turned, already searching for the others.

His eyes found Hong Yi slumped against a wall, one arm hanging uselessly at his side, blood staining his robes. Water still leaked steadily from the cracks around them, the floor slick and cold underfoot.

Without hesitation, Chen Ren ran over. "Are you okay?" he called, already reaching for a healing pill from his pouch.

Hong Yi grinned weakly at him, grimacing through the pain.

"Do you think I look okay?" he said, half-laughing, half-wincing. "That bastard almost took my whole arm off. If it weren’t for the healing pills already working... I'd be way worse."

Chen Ren crouched beside him, pressing the pill into his hand. "Thank you," he said quietly. "You did more than I expected."

Hong Yi chuckled dryly, swallowing one more pill. "Yeah, yeah. I’m a good sect member, right, Sect Leader Chen?" He smirked through the blood on his face. "Just make sure I get my share of the loot once we find the good stuff in this place."

Chen Ren smiled faintly, helping him steady himself. "But first... we wait for Yalan to finish her battle."

As he spoke, his eyes shifted to the center of the chamber.

There, atop the rising stone platform, Yalan and Wang Fu clashed like forces of nature. Wang Fu spun his spear with brutal efficiency, the blade gleaming with twin flames, one black as night, the other a deep, violent red. The swings carved lines of fire through the air, the stone underfoot scorched and cracked by the raw force of his strikes.

Chen Ren's gaze sharpened. Wang Fu had a few cuts on his arms and legs, blood trailing down in thin rivers, but none of them seemed serious. Yalan, by contrast, looked untouched, her white fur gleaming, her movements sharp and fast.

But Chen Ren knew better. The fact that Yalan hadn’t already ended the fight spoke volumes. Wang Fu wasn’t just strong, he was skilled, and likely sitting at the absolute peak of the foundation establishment realm.

Shit, this won’t be easy.

His eyes widened whenWang Fu hurled pill bombs at Yalan, explosions shaking the chamber as they went off around her. But Yalan’s body twisted and weaved through the blasts, her burning tail sending out volleys of fireballs in return.

Fireballs exploded against Wang Fu's defenses, forcing him to meet them head-on with his spear, a weapon that, from the pressure it gave off, was easily peak Earth grade.

Chen Ren’s fists tightened slightly. Should he jump in? Part of him itched to move, to help.

But a quick surge of qi from their battlefield answered him brutally. The sheer strength behind every strike, every clash, was overwhelming. If he threw himself into that, he'd be crushed under their qi alone, let alone their attacks.

Still, he couldn’t shake a bad feeling gnawing at the edge of his mind. He forced himself to focus, watching carefully. Wang Fu’s strikes were wild with rage, but there was a strange pattern to them — a rhythm just beneath the surface.

And then Chen Ren saw it. Just for a heartbeat. Wang Fu's eyes flashed — a deep, unnatural red.

It was so quick he almost doubted himself. Wait… No way! But he knew what he had seen. He would never mistake that kind of eye again. Not after everything he had experienced.

Yalan, caught in the heat of battle, probably missed it. But Chen Ren hadn't.

A jolt of urgency ran through him. He turned sharply to Hong Yi, who was still resting against the wall, clutching his injured arm.

"You need to get to safety," Chen Ren said, his voice low but firm.

Hong Yi frowned at him, confused.

"Why?" he asked. "We’ve already won, haven’t we? Just Wang Fu is left."

Chen Ren didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his eyes stayed locked on Wang Fu, on the red glimmer that had already faded, but that he couldn’t unsee. And deep inside, he knew. The real fight hadn’t even started yet.

"There’s no time to explain," Chen Ren said sharply. "Don’t stay out in the open. Find a place to hide. Anywhere. Just go. Don't ask questions."

He didn’t wait to see if Hong Yi obeyed. His attention snapped back to the battle at the center of the room.

"Yalan!"he called out urgently, sending his voice reverberating through the room. "He's a demonic cultivator!"

Mid-slash, Yalan's body tensed. She pivoted around a strike, her tail lashing, and flicked a sharp question back at him through the mental channel:

“What?”

"Yes," Chen Ren answered immediately, not wasting a breath. "I saw it — his eyes turned red for a second. Just like Gu Tian's did." He pushed the words quickly, knowing there wasn’t much time. "Tell Anji to stop flooding the room. I have a plan, but for that—"

He didn’t get to finish.

Wang Fu, who had clearly heard Chen Ren’s earlier shout, let out a low, mocking laugh that echoed through the hall.

"Oh... so you noticed," Wang Fu said, voice twisting with glee. He grinned bloody. "It’s been so hard holding back with Jin Sen around. But since he's dead — and all of you will be soon too—" His mouth stretched into a wide, unnatural grin. "I guess there’s no need to pretend anymore."

The change was immediate.

A wave of pressure rippled through the room, thick and suffocating. Wang Fu’s qi, once blazing and aggressive, twisted into something darker and heavier until it no longer felt like human qi at all.

It was demonic. Pure, corrupt, and violent.

Chen Ren felt the temperature spike violently as Wang Fu’s transformation began. But unlike Gu Tian, whose transformation had twisted his body and aura, Wang Fu’s change was even more terrifying in one crucial way,

His skin literally caught fire.

Flames—dark red and black—ignited across his body, clinging to his flesh but not consuming it.His robes burned away, leaving only scorched remnants around his waist and legs, but the man himself stood unharmed within the blaze.

When the transformation finished, Wang Fu stood taller, more monstrous. His eyes a crimson that looked straight out of a horror book.The spear in his hands glowed white-hot from the sheer heat pouring off him.

And he grinned—a wide, savage grin that showed too many teeth.

***

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