Chapter 51: Chapter Fifty-One: Greed

Radiant light shimmered everywhere, flooding the ground with floating luminescence, colors dancing in unison.

At the end of several tall bookshelves, a man in plain white robes and a white cap sat upon a yellow apricot-colored mat; a faint jade glow clung to his skin, enhancing his naturally aloof and lofty demeanor until he seemed almost detached from the mortal world.

Around Chen Hang floated several talismanic artifacts, rising and darting playfully; Tu Shan Ge needed only one glance to spot Tong Gaolu’s Purple Gold Shatter-Spirit Hammer and Zhou Chuyu’s Flowing Sky Ruler, both strikingly brilliant.

“How did you know my cultivation has advanced further?”

Chen Hang smiled.

“Has my lord never looked into a mirror to observe himself?”

Tu Shan Ge glanced around; though the meditation chamber was lavishly and elegantly decorated—with bamboo scrolls, ink paintings, and other refined objects plainly visible—it lacked even a single mirror.

He chuckled, spread his hands, and used spiritual power to conjure a mirror in midair.

On the mat.

Chen Hang lifted his eyes, then slightly frowned.

“Why is it different from before…”

“If you wish to avoid being harassed by female cultivators, my lord, you must never take off that bamboo-and-wood mask again.”

Tu Shan Ge laughed cheerfully:

“You were already among the most handsome men in all of Dongmi Province, but your cold detachment made people fear and avoid you. Now, with this jade-like warmth and humility, it suits you perfectly!”

“I didn’t even realize such a change occurred,” Chen Hang laughed.

This transformation must be from the Great Primordial Jade Body.

Even Tong Gaolu and Yang Shan Dao Ren grew more composed and approachable after mastering this method.

For me, it goes without saying…

“My lord, this is actually a great advantage. When the Flower God Mansion recruits disciples, they prioritize talent and character first, then appearance!”

Seeing Chen Hang remained expressionless, Tu Shan Ge couldn’t help speaking up:

“My former master once told me a story: a hermit won first place at the ‘Plucking Fragrance Banquet,’ but because his face was so grotesque it was unbearable to look at, the deputy head of the Flower God Mansion personally expelled him from the sect!”

“The Flower God Mansion is a powerful second-tier sect; if my lord can join, even if you don’t become a Golden Core True Person, you’ll surely attain the rank of Profound Cultivation Master.”

“The flesh is but the shallowest outward form—if the deputy head truly acts this way, he’s unjust. This Flower God Mansion doesn’t seem very enlightened…”

Chen Hang shook his head, intending to say more, but remembered he might indeed need to join the Flower God Mansion to cultivate. After all, this sect was among the few willing to accept hermits.

He sighed inwardly and fell silent.

“Once I reach Golden Core, I can reshape my limbs and alter my appearance at will—then no matter how strange I look, it won’t matter.”

Chen Hang weighed his options, then said to Tu Shan Ge: “Have you seen these talismanic artifacts? Choose one at random as a token of appreciation.”

“Me?”

Hearing this, Tu Shan Ge was stunned, disbelief flashing across his face.

“Since we met, you’ve aided me greatly; a single talismanic artifact is insufficient repayment for your deeds.”

“This…”

After hesitating a few breaths, Tu Shan Ge summoned courage and asked Chen Hang for the Cloud-Soaring Airship.

Chen Hang erased the blood seal from the artifact; after half a cup of tea’s time, he dispelled his own spiritual traces. The moment Tu Shan Ge took hold of the Cloud-Soaring Airship, he couldn’t help beaming with joy.

He disliked combat, and among these artifacts, the Cloud-Soaring Airship was the most dazzling—when activated, it resembled a vast crimson cloud, delightfully beautiful, and his favorite.

Chen Hang didn’t mind; on this trip to Yuanjing, he’d acquired over ten low-grade talismanic artifacts and four mid-grade ones.

They were: Purple Gold Shatter-Spirit Hammer, Green Lady’s Painting, Flowing Sky Ruler, and the Caihe Cart.

The Purple Gold Shatter-Spirit Hammer and Green Lady’s Painting came from Tong Gaolu; rumor claimed he once possessed three mid-grade talismanic artifacts, yet Chen Hang had only seen two.

He didn’t know whether the rumor was wrong or if Tong Gaolu had sold one over the years.

The Flowing Sky Ruler and Caihe Cart were seized from Zhou Chuyu’s space bag.

The former was a potent offensive talismanic artifact.

The latter could also serve as a flying vehicle, its speed incomparably faster than the Cloud-Soaring Airship—making the latter all but useless to Chen Hang.

“And Tu Shan Zhuang…”

Chen Hang added.

“My lord, my lord! I’ve already rewarded him! No need to give him anything else, truly!”

Tu Shan Ge jumped, hastily saying: “That dog loves fine food and drink—I gave him a hundred taels of gold from Tong’s mansion, and now Tu Shan Zhuang is feasting and reveling. He definitely doesn’t need another reward!”

“Is that so?”

Chen Hang pondered a moment, then smiled and admitted: “To be honest, I’m short on talismanic funds for cultivation now—I won’t be modest. I’ll record it as a debt, and reward him later.”

Tu Shan Ge nodded vigorously, of course agreeing.

At that moment.

A commotion suddenly erupted outside the door…

Dozens of servants knelt on the ground, pleading desperately for Chen Hang to appear, their cries deafening.

“What’s going on?”

Chen Hang’s expression turned cold: “Didn’t we agree to return their slave contracts and give them silver and gold so they could all return home? I forgot to ask—why are there still so many here?”

After slaying Zhou Chuyu, he had taken over the Tong mansion.

For the servants and attendants within, Chen Hang had returned their slave contracts and distributed silver and gold as capital for their new lives.

This gesture left every servant deeply grateful, for Tong Gaolu had been condemned for treason—if the Rong family held a grudge, even as slaves, they’d face no mercy.

Yet during his meditation, he’d still heard footsteps and murmurs.

At the time, Chen Hang assumed it was due to delayed silver distribution or some elderly servants reluctant to leave their homeland—he hadn’t cared.

But now, the deafening cries outside made him slightly surprised.

“This…”

Tu Shan Ge’s face flushed with embarrassment; he lowered his head sheepishly:

“My lord, some have left, but a small group refuse to go, insisting they must see you. This…”

Hearing this, Chen Hang immediately understood.

He let out a faint cold smile, his eyes brightening as he shattered the door open with a mere thought.

Outside, the kneeling servants, startled by the sudden opening of the door, saw a tall, noble-looking man gazing down with calm detachment. Shock flashed across their faces, then they quickly turned their eyes and wailed even louder.

Their weeping was heart-wrenching—even Tu Shan Ge’s face softened with pity.

Chen Hang listened silently for a while; it was all the same nonsense—attachment to homeland, insufficient silver, lack of skills, starvation outside the mansion.

Among them, a short, fat old man wept the most pitifully, tears and snot streaming down his face.

“True Person! True Person! Have mercy! I’m over sixty, childless, destitute—if you insist I leave, you might as well kill me!”

He crawled forward, desperate to cling to Chen Hang and weep, but Tu Shan Ge glared fiercely, forcing him to retreat.

“If you won’t let us serve you in the mansion, you abandon us to die—how can such a person attain the Dao…”

Seeing Tu Shan Ge’s gaze grow colder, the fat old man lowered his voice and changed tactics:

“Then… perhaps you could give us more silver? After all, mundane wealth means nothing to you—why not grant us a little more? It’s your kindness, after all. Don’t be stingy.”

Tu Shan Ge was now utterly stunned—these people hadn’t begged him like this before.

“It seems my earlier act of returning contracts and distributing silver made you think I’m a naive child.”

Chen Hang didn’t anger; he merely smiled lightly:

“You claim destitution, yet your body is plump and well-fed—you’re clearly a privileged steward. Before speaking, why not hide the jade ring on your thumb?”

The fat old man startled, frantically covering his hand.

“Three hundred taels of silver per person—even in Yuanjing—is more than enough to establish a new life. Why is it still not enough?”

Chen Hang no longer looked at him, but sighed toward the crowd outside: “You merely resent losing your former status now that Tong Gaolu is dead, and you’re trying to cling to me, aren’t you?”

The crowd wanted to feign pity and plead again, but meeting Chen Hang’s abyss-deep gaze, they froze, unable to utter a single word.

“See? This is the true meaning of greed: a snake swallowing an elephant.”

Chen Hang spoke calmly to the stunned Tu Shan Ge, then blew a gust of wind that swept all those outside away in an instant.

The wind was vast and mysterious; in an instant, it wrapped them all, lifting them like feathers before hurling them violently beyond the mansion gates. They tumbled seven or eight times, bruised and battered, groaning in pain.

“Manager Qiu, this…”

One man, grimacing as he rose, ventured to ask the fat old man: “What do we do now?”

“Hmph!”

The fat old man, propped up by others, sneered coldly.

He was about to curse—when a chilling killing intent slammed into his mind.

His eyes instantly glazed over; his throat gurgled once, and he collapsed backward.

“Manager Qiu!”

The crowd screamed, chaos erupting in a haze of panic.

…

Inside the mansion.

Tu Shan Ge bowed deeply, shame burning in his chest, and offered the Cloud-Soaring Airship with both hands: “My lord, I’ve failed. I have no right to accept such a gift…”

“Since we’re fellow cultivators, why bow so deeply?”

Chen Hang smiled and helped him up: “I don’t blame you. You were born into a great sect, raised in ancient forests—though you understand worldly ways, your heart is too soft, and you often lack calculation in dealing with people.”

“Ah, I’ve learned my lesson today!”

Tu Shan Ge, humiliated, gritted his teeth: “From now on—”

“You’re thinking that next time you see some human tragedy, you’ll ignore it entirely, aren’t you?”

Tu Shan Ge made no reply, only sighed: “Such good intentions have led to this mess—does Master not find it contemptible?”

“I do good deeds only because my heart compels me; what do I care if others praise or condemn me? Such petty slander is but gnats and flies—how could it shake my resolve!”

Chen Hang’s expression did not change; he spoke calmly:

“If something displeases you, cut it down! Why overthink? If a few words could alter my mind, what use is my cultivation?”

Tu Shan Ge’s expression changed drastically, left speechless.

“I still need to borrow the ‘Jade Womb Pool’ from the Rong clan. Pack up a few things these days; when I return, I’ll head back to Yang Mountain.”

Chen Hang said: “The grudges in Yuanjing are settled. It is time to sit in quiet cultivation.”

Tu Shan Ge nodded repeatedly, signaling he understood.

Chen Hang gave a slight nod, then transformed into a white cultivation light that shot skyward, speeding far away.

Not long after, he arrived above the imperial palace.

In a grand hall, Rong Tuo, full of wine and food, embraced several beautiful palace maidens, had unbuttoned his upper garments, and was about to commit lewd acts.

Suddenly, he heard a thunderous crash, roaring like thunder rushing—startled, he looked up and saw a pure white cultivation light, vast and mighty, twisting like a dragon or serpent.

Within the light, Chen Hang’s expression was gentle and courteous; he bowed and said:

“It seems I arrived at an inopportune moment, disturbing your good fortune, Daoist friend.”

Rong Tuo’s face darkened, yet he forced a forced, cheerful smile—looking deeply unnatural.

“You know it well!”

He cursed inwardly.