Dao of Money-Chapter 109: The vault

Chen Ren closed his eyes tightly, trying to avoid the light. He had warned Yalan it would happen, a flash triggered by the array. It was part of the plan. But he underestimated the scale of it.

And when the light faded, his vision slowly returned.

Wang Fu was on the ground, one hand over his eyes, groaning. The heat in his voice from before was gone. A pale, see-through barrier shimmered faintly around him, a last line of defense. But the array wasn’t done.

From above, bolts of lightning cracked through the barrier, crashing down on him. The chamber trembled. Sparks flew. Stone cracked.

Chen Ren stayed behind cover, watching. That lightning would’ve killed any normal cultivator in the qi refinement realm and even injure foundation establishment realm ones easily. But not Wang Fu. He was tough. The bolts slammed him across the floor, smoke rising from his clothes, but he was still breathing.

And that’s when Yalan moved.

She didn’t shout. She didn’t rush in. Her lips moved in a quiet chant, and the air around her began to ripple. Flaming weapons burst into view, spears, swords, even a massive hammer.

They spun around her like a storm held in place, waiting to be let loose.

Chen Ren had told her to strike when the enemy was down, to use her strongest move. But this... this wasn’t something he had seen before. Wang Fu stirred, still trying to rise through the lightning strikes that had started to slow. Just as he lifted his head—

Yalan’s weapons shot forward.

A spear struck first. Wang Fu caught it with one hand, barely. before a hammer slammed into his chest, flattening him to the floor. Another blade pierced his shoulder. Then another. Then more.

It looked endless. And that was the best part. All those weapons against Wang Fu.

Chen Ren didn’t waste the moment. He pulled out a small glass vial with thick, green liquid swirling inside and moved towards the array. Qing He had given it to him right before he left, just in case he faced puppeted constructs knowing that the potion burnt through almost anything. Even human flesh. And now was the best time to use it.

He threw the vial. It flew past the barrier and smashed against Wang Fu’s face. Acid sprayed across his skin, and Wang Fu screamed—high, raw, full of pain. Chen Ren didn’t stop.

He pulled out another vial and aimed lower—at Wang Fu’s belts, his rings, the items where healing pills or other treasures might be hidden. The second vial shattered, spilling its contents across cloth and skin.

The acid hissed as it ate through everything. Flesh, metal, robes. Black smoke curled into the air. Wang Fu's skin peeled away, and his rings melted on his fingers. Demonic qi surged to heal him, but it was too late.

His knees buckled. He collapsed fully, arms shaking, blood dripping onto the stone. But his eyes still burned with hatred. Through the pain, through the damage, he lifted his head and locked his gaze on Chen Ren — not Yalan.

“You,” Wang Fu rasped, voice hoarse. Then louder, like a curse spat from deep inside, “I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you, bastard!”

Wang Fu groaned and pushed himself forward, dragging his body across the ground. Blood smeared beneath him, and one of his fists slammed into the glowing barrier. Again. And again.

He didn’t use any techniques. His qi was busy holding his body together, trying to stop the bleeding, to repair what it could. But still, he crawled, fists cracking against the shield with brute strength alone.

Chen Ren watched, tense. How is he still alive?

Lightning. Conjured weapons. Acid. Any normal cultivator would’ve died five times over. But Wang Fu was a demonic cultivator. Their bodies were built to endure. For all he knew, the man had some secret body cultivation technique or ancient defense art.

And worst of all, his punches were working.

Thin cracks spread across the edge of the barrier, spider webbing out beneath Wang Fu’s fists. Chen Ren’s breath caught. If the man got through, the fight must just end in his favour. He was weakened, yes. Bleeding, yes. But was far more dangerous than anyone else. Chen Ren steeled himself. He could take one hit—maybe—and try to kill him.

But he didn’t get the chance. A blur dropped from above. Yalan.

She slammed into the barrier, her claws glowing bright as they sliced clean through the cracks. The shield shattered with a sharp crack, and before Wang Fu could even look up, her claws carved into his neck.

Wang Fu jerked, one arm swiping wildly to shove her off, but more blood sprayed out. Her claws dug deeper, burning with power. With a final, heavy slash, his head came loose, rolling once across the stone before stopping near Chen Ren’s feet.

Silence stretched in the chamber.

Yalan stood there, chest rising and falling fast, blood dripping from her claws. Then she turned toward him and said, between breaths, “The head. Always go for the head.”

Her voice was quiet but firm.

“Demonic cultivators can heal from anything... but not that.”

Then her legs gave out.

Chen Ren rushed forward and caught her before she hit the floor. She was heavier than she looked, her furry body limp in his arms. He lowered her carefully into his lap, panic rising as he noticed cuts and burns along her side, wounds he hadn’t seen in the heat of the battle.

He reached for a healing pill at once. But her voice stopped him.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “It’ll heal... just need to rest. That last attack... and the weapon storm... drained everything.”

Chen Ren let out a slow breath. Relief washed over him.

“You’ve done enough,” he said gently. “We’ve dealt with everything. You can rest now.”

“I’m going to,” she muttered, already closing her eyes. Then, almost as an afterthought, “Protect me well, okay? I gave everything... to protect you.”

Chen Ren smiled faintly at that. “I will,” he said, pulling her closer. Unsaid feelings rushed to him in waves, catching him off guard. He was glad she made it, he was glad she was powerful and he was glad that she was alive.

He wiped his eye from the free hand.

He finally let his hand stroke through her fur, rough from battle, warm from life, and to his surprise, Yalan let out a soft, contented purr.

That was the first time he patted her.

***

It didn’t take long for Yalan to recover. Just like she had said, her body began healing within hours. Chen Ren sat by her side and watched as the wounds along her fur slowly closed on their own. The cuts stopped bleeding. The burns faded. She hadn’t moved yet, but he could tell she'd be up soon.

In the meantime, Chen Ren searched the chamber with Hong Yi.

The man had only come out after everything was over, squeezing through a narrow crack in the stone. He hadn’t seen a way out before, not while Wang Fu was still alive. Chen Ren didn’t blame him for hiding, Hong Yi had already done his part with the puppets. Hiding and staying alive was smart.

They got to work checking the fallen bodies.

The scout had a good pair of daggers and a pouch full of pills, mostly healing and qi-restoring ones. The big brute, the one who died first, had a spatial ring on his finger. Chen Ren added it to the others he had taken from the earlier fight. His collection was growing quickly.

Wang Fu, though, had nothing left.

The acid had melted through most of his things. His robes were burned, and even his rings were damaged beyond use. Chen Ren stared at the remains for a moment before dragging his body over to the others. He’d burn all of them before they left this place.

With the looting done, Chen Ren finally let himself rest. He sat on a flat piece of stone while Hong Yi crouched over the broken puppets nearby, eyes shining with excitement.

He turned each piece over carefully, muttering to himself, picking apart wires and pieces of core mechanisms. Chen Ren watched him for a while and smiled. For Hong Yi, this trip might’ve been worth it just for the puppets alone.

Earlier, he had been pale with fear, too shaken by Wang Fu’s power to even move. Even after the battle ended, he had wanted to leave right away. But now, surrounded by scrap parts and broken joints, he had completely forgotten all of that.

Chen Ren looked away, just in time to hear soft footsteps coming from the entrance.

He tensed, hand moving toward his belt, but relaxed as he saw who it was.

Anji.

She looked just as tense as he had been. But the moment she spotted him — and the bodies in the corner of the chamber, her whole body eased. She rushed over.

“What happened?” she asked quickly. “I couldn’t hear anything. When Yalan stopped sending messages, I thought something happened to all of you. I was scared…”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Chen Ren raised a hand to calm her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should’ve come for you right after the fight. But I was exhausted — we had to loot the bodies, and then I had to sit down for a while.”

He looked over to where Yalan was still resting.

“She passed out after killing Wang Fu,” he said. “Used everything she had left.”

Anji’s expression changed the moment she heard his words, flickers of anger, relief, and joy all rushing across her face in the span of seconds. She gave a single glance to Yalan.

“Is he really dead?” she asked, moving closer.

Chen Ren nodded. “He’s dead. But… there are things you should know.”

He turned and gestured for her to follow. They walked slowly toward the far corner, where the bodies had been laid together. As they neared, Anji’s eyes locked onto one of them, Wang Fu.

Her steps slowed. Her gaze turned sharp, almost burning with hate. But then… confusion crept in.

She stepped closer, brows furrowing. “What’s wrong with his skin?”

Even in death, Wang Fu’s body looked monstrous. His skin was ashen and cracked, with dark, pulsing veins crawling across his arms and neck. His features hadn’t returned to normal. He still looked like something from the depths of hell.

Chen Ren didn’t answer at first. He just stared down at the corpse.

“He was a demonic cultivator,” he finally said.

Anji froze. “What?”

“You didn’t know?” he asked, watching her reaction carefully.

She shook her head, shocked. “No. Never. He was cruel, yes. Arrogant. A bastard I dreamed of ripping apart—but he never showed even a sign of being a demonic cultivator. Not once, during his time in the Void Blade Sect.”

Chen Ren frowned, his thoughts racing. That didn’t make sense.

He had assumed Wang Fu had been hiding it all along—maybe using a special artifact to cover his dantian. But then he remembered: Anji’s father had interrogated Wang Fu himself. A meridian expansion realm expert. No way he’d let someone wear a cover like that during questioning.

So… if he hadn’t been a demonic cultivator then, he must’ve changed after the sect war. His teammates hadn’t known. That much was clear by their behavior.

Why would a man like him willingly become a demonic cultivator? Chen Ren’s jaw tightened. Something about this didn’t add up. It wasn’t a personal decision. It couldn’t be.

He looked back down at the body, the burnt, warped remains, and a cold thought settled in his mind.

Blazing Ember Sect.

Were they hiding demonic cultivators inside their ranks? If they were… how deep did it go? Was it just a few people? Or were the elders involved? The sect leader?

He didn’t know.

But one thing was certain, he didn’t want to be standing around here when those answers came looking for him. He took a breath and turned back to Anji. “We shouldn’t stay here too long. I doubt reinforcements are coming, but I don’t want to take chances.”

Anji nodded. “Did you look at the vault door yet?”

“I did,” Chen Ren said. “But the runes are too complex for me. Even the Blazing Ember Sect cultivators couldn’t figure it out, and one of them had to be trained in arrays. If they couldn’t do it, I knew I had to wait for you.”

He looked at her carefully.

“Can you open that door?”

Anji gave a short nod. “Should we wait for Yalan?”

“I’ll go wake her,” Chen Ren said. “She can rest more in the carriage.”

Anji turned toward the vault door while Chen Ren walked over to Yalan. She was still curled up, breathing slow and even. Her body had healed, and she looked peaceful now—too peaceful for what they’d just been through.

For a second, he hesitated. He didn’t want to disturb her. But they didn’t have time.

He leaned down and gave her a gentle shake. “Yalan,” he said softly. “Time to wake up.”

She stirred, ears twitching, then slowly blinked her eyes open. Alertness returned in an instant, her body tensing.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Chen Ren said, giving a small smile. “We’re just opening the vault. Thought I should wake you. I don’t want to stay here much longer.”

Yalan stared at him for a moment, like she was trying to piece something together. Then it clicked. Her eyes moved past him to the massive door at the back of the chamber. She stood in one smooth motion, giving a quick look around.

“Let’s go,” she said.

They walked over together. Hong Yi was already standing beside Anji near the vault. When he saw them approach, he turned, looking eager.

“We need to dismantle the puppets,” he said quickly. “And any others we find.”

Chen Ren raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“They’re made of spirit wood. The inner circuits too. All high-grade craftsmanship. I’ve never seen something like this up close before. I’m still studying it,” Hong Yi said, eyes bright. “We can use the materials. We just can’t carry the whole body back without drawing attention.”

He held up a damaged part, wires exposed and shimmering faintly.

“I can try to make something similar. But we’ll need the parts.”

Chen Ren considered it. They didn’t have spatial rings big enough to carry those things out whole, and if the designs really were rare…

“Alright,” he said. “We won’t waste good materials. Just be quick. I’ll check the library and the rest of the place while you do it.”

Hong Yi nodded at once and ran off toward the nearest puppet remains. Yalan crossed her arms and looked at the vault. “Then you should hurry up with the vault,” she said.

Chen Ren nodded and turned to Anji, who stood quietly in front of the massive vault door, her eyes fixed on the glowing orb etched at its center. He watched her for a moment, unsure. There was no keyhole. No slot. Nothing that looked like it could open a door.

Can she even open this thing?

A small part of him whispered doubt, that maybe pressing the wrong thing would trigger a trap or some self-destruct mechanism. But he pushed the thought aside. He had trusted her this far. He would keep trusting her now.

Then, without a word, Anji pulled a small knife from her belt and sliced a shallow cut across her finger.

Chen Ren immediately straightened. “What are you doing?”

Anji didn’t flinch. She held her bleeding finger over the orb. A single drop of blood fell and touched the surface. The orb pulsed, faint light running through its lines.

“The orb reacts to a special component,” she said with a sigh. “It’s used as a key. The only way to activate it is to mix the component into your blood. It changes it slightly, making your body the key. No side effects, but it’s permanent.”

She glanced at him briefly.

“My father gave me the component when he told me about this place. He made me drink it.”

Chen Ren wanted to ask more. What component? How did it work? But before he could open his mouth, the runes on the vault flared to life. A low hum echoed through the stone walls. Gears shifted deep within.

Then… the door began to open. Stone grinding on stone. It grated. Chen Ren stepped back, watching it rise, the light from the orb reflecting off the chamber walls. He felt his heart tighten. His chest heaved up and down with expectation—and hope.

This was it. Whatever the Void Blade Sect had left behind, this was their final treasure, their secret, their legacy. The door lifted fully with a final thunk.

And the first thing he saw inside… Was a severed head.

Chen Ren widened his eyes and heard Hong Yi’s gasp from behind.

***

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