Dao of the Deal

He sat in front of the tablet and thought back to his memories of the old man. It felt strange, digging into another person's childhood, not to mention the fact that he was seeing everything as though peering through a layer of gauze, but he could tell well enough to know that the old man had truly treated Muchen as his son.

He only knew bits and pieces of the old man's personal life. He had a distant familial connection to the Wang family, one of the capital's prosperous merchant clans. Muchen had always suspected he was an illegitimate child of one of the branch lines, but he'd never pressed for details. The old man had never shown any bitterness over the fact that he'd been excluded from the family property and forced to make a living on his own as a traveling peddler.

As the adopted child of a family outcast, Muchen didn't have any real claim on the family resources in his own right. That was fine by him. He wanted to follow his own path to the top. He just hoped that they would be willing to provide him with a place to stay while he went about his business in the capital. If the grudges of the previous generation could be resolved in light of the old man's passing, that would be a nice bonus.

He opened his eyes when the stick of incense burned out. Xinyi was sitting nearby, quietly waiting for him to finish.

Her presence was going to be a headache. Even more so than usual. The Qianzhan Empire wasn't as socially conservative as some of the dynasties of Earth's past, but for an unrelated man and woman to travel together would still invite some searching questions. Muchen had managed to avoid the problem so far by virtue of his itinerant lifestyle. Customers never bothered prying into the personal life of a merchant who was only in town for the day.

Now, though, he'd be staying in one place for a while. Digging up the information Xinyi wanted would be a task that would take weeks rather than days. And he'd be spending all that time living in the home of people who knew him personally. All of the cover stories that came to mind—a long lost sister, an arranged betrothal—seemed unlikely to stand up to any scrutiny. Especially given what he knew of Xinyi's acting ability.

"When we reach the capital, we'll be staying with the Wang family," Muchen said. "It might be for the best if they don't see you.

Xinyi paused in thought for a moment before nodding. "I intended to keep a low profile in the capital anyway."

"Oh?" Muchen asked. Out of all the moods he'd seen from his traveling companion, caution wasn't one of them.

"I don't know how many of the ancient protections remain," Xinyi said, "but I know when it's not wise to cause a ruckus."

Muchen nodded in acknowledgement while doing the best that he could to keep his skepticism out of his expression. He stifled the sigh of relief that tried to escape as he wrapped up the memorial tablet and put it away. At least Xinyi was going along with his request, even if it was a little intimidating to imagine what kind of protections were enough to give even her pause.

They entered the capital the next day, driving their cart forward through a steady drizzle of rain. Muchen's traveling cloak protected him from the worst of it, though he still caught the occasional spray of droplets to the face when the wind turned. The turtle shell placed next to him on the driver's bench was, of course, completely unbothered by this little bit of water.

The capital was the first place he'd visited in this new world that would have been considered a proper city even by Earth's standards. The city wall was tall and imposing and stretched off into the distance to either side farther than Muchen could see. The gate they were approaching was broad enough for several carts to pass through side by side. A carving of a dragon stretched across the top of the archway, its eyes seeming to gaze straight at him through the rain.

The sense of majesty was undercut when Muchen drew close enough to see the pair of waterlogged guards overseeing entry to the city. He could almost see the visions of a warm fireplace dancing in their eyes as they gave his wagon a cursory once-over. He was charged fifty wen to enter the city with his load of wolf pelts and odds and ends.

He'd sold almost all of the cookware along the way. The trip to the capital had netted him nearly twenty taels of silver after his expenses. The old man would have considered it a good solid bit of profit. Muchen was always happy to make money, but he couldn't help but be a little wistful when he thought of the haul he'd raked in from peddling spirit rice.

The trouble with taking a big risk wasn't just that things could go bad. It was that if things went well, the temptation was always there to try another roll of the dice. Muchen did his best to shove that feeling of ambition to the side for now. He needed to take things step by step and build up a business that brought in that kind of profit without the corresponding physical danger.

He could almost feel the money all around him as he passed through the gate. The street broadened further in the city proper, now broad enough to allow two lanes of cart traffic to flow in each direction and paved with flat stone. It was the first decent road that he had seen in some time. Seeing the rainwater run neatly off to the side and down into a storm drain made him feel oddly nostalgic. It was a big step up from the muddy trails he'd been enduring out in the countryside.

"It's hard to believe how far this place has fallen," Xinyi said, her voice in his ear breaking Muchen free from his contemplation. "Shaohao would never have allowed matters to deteriorate this far."

Muchen cocked his head. That wasn't the name of any of the emperors that he'd heard knew of. Actually, the only memory he could dig up was part of a bedtime story.

"You mean Shaohao the clever?"

"Clever?" Xinyi asked. "He at least knew how to keep a rain-repelling array in good order."

Muchen thought for a moment, the silence between them punctuated by the clacking of Huichen's hooves against stone and the steady patter of the rain. The bad weather ensured that the few pedestrians out and about were focused on getting to their destination as quickly as possible, so they could at least hold a conversation without Muchen looking like he was both talking to himself and answering back.

"Have cultivators gotten so much weaker compared to the past?" he asked. The fairy tales and legends Muchen had grown up on often described feats that were beyond even the most powerful of modern day cultivators. He couldn't tell whether that was due to artistic license in storytelling or if something had actually changed in the world of cultivation.

Considering his own experience, Muchen wasn't willing to rule out any possibility. Xinyi usually discouraged theoretical questions. Now that he'd caught her in a rare contemplative mood, it was a good chance to satisfy his curiosity.

"How could they not have fallen?" she asked. "With the connection to the heavens cut off, inspiration is garbled and the flow of spiritual energy is stagnant. This whole continent can hardly support a few piddling Nascent Soul cultivators."

Muchen knew roughly what cultivators were capable of at each cultivation level. At least, up until they formed their Golden Core. At that point a single man was capable of defeating an entire army of mortals with ease. He'd heard a few legends of Nascent Soul cultivators, but nothing that had ever let him pin down exactly what they could do.

He'd also always thought that the idea of a connection to the heavens was nothing more than a useful metaphor.

"Cut off?"

"It was a desperate choice. Considering..." Xinyi began, her voice trailing off. After a moment of silence, her tone was firm when she spoke again. "Learning too much about matters beyond your control will only harm you."

Muchen nodded. Life on the Qianzhan Continent was dangerous enough that there was no need to seek out trouble on his own by prying into the matters of high level cultivation. He did file away what he had learned, though, ready to add any other tidbits of information as he came across them. If this new world of his was facing a disaster, he'd rather know about it sooner than later. Even if he couldn't do anything about it, he could at least get a head start on running away.

He drove the cart through the streets on autopilot while he was distracted. Soon enough they arrived at the outer wall of the Wang residence. The old man had taken Muchen here frequently when he was young. The visits had gotten fewer and farther between as he'd gotten older. It had been several years since the last time he'd come by. Even so, it seemed he still knew the way.

One couldn't simply enter the Wang residence as one wished, of course. Even in the rain, they had servants waiting at the gatehouse to welcome visitors. After Muchen gave his name and explained that he had come on family business he was given a cup of lukewarm tea and guided to a mildly uncomfortable bench to wait.

He only had time for a few sips of his drink before an older man came bursting into the room in a spray of water.

"Muchen! It's good to see you," he said, before seeming to deflate as he noticed the empty space around him. "Alone."

Muchen noded, before answering the unspoken question. "Two months ago. His heart."

He felt a pang of regret as the man in front of him seemed to deflate. Muchen had spent much of his childhood around the Wang family, and much of that time had been spent under the supervision by the man he knew as Uncle Haoyu. Muchen knew that he enjoyed a high position within the Wang family. It was obvious from his fine clothing that he was doing well for himself, but as the pall of grief settled over him he looked ten years older.

Uncle Haoyu wrung his hands. "Cousin, oh, cousin, why did you choose such a difficult life?"

Muchen had remembered that Uncle Haoyu and the old man were close, but he had underestimated just how deep the emotions ran.

"He did what he loved every day," Muchen said. As far as he had ever been able to tell, the old man didn't find life on the road difficult at all.

"Quite right, quite right," Uncle Haoyu said, before taking a breath and calming down. "Where are my manners? Muchen, the Whispering Willow Courtyard is yours for as long as you need it."

"Then I'll be imposing on you," Muchen said. "My business here shouldn't take more than a few weeks. Also, the memorial tablet-"

"You leave that to me," Uncle Haoyu insisted. "It may take a few days, but I'll make the family elders see reason."

Muchen cupped his hands together and offered Uncle Haoyu a grateful bow. "Thank you."

"It's what I should do," Uncle Haoyu said. "I won't keep you when you're tired from the road. We can catch up tomorrow at dinner."

Muchen nodded in agreement before taking his leave. Uncle Haoyu directed a servant to lead the way to the Whispering Willow Courtyard. Muchen hardly needed the guidance, but having the servant around meant that he was free to let his mind wander and admire the scenery without wondering if he was going in the right direction.

The Wang family had been successful merchants for many generations. Although the social status of merchants was low in the Qianzhan Empire, the Empire didn't impose any particularly harsh sumptuary laws. A merchant would have to go out of his way to put on a public appearance lavish enough to embarrass the Emperor and prompt an official response. When it came to the internal design of the family residence, the Wang family ancestors had been free to imitate the layout of a noble estate.

The family residence—or family compound—was a sprawling thing, subdivided into countless courtyards that each served their own purpose. The Whispering Willow Courtyard to which Muchen had been assigned was used to house relatively favored guests. Naturally, the decorations on display along the way were all top notch. Perhaps a true noble would have found the whole thing to be the tawdry display of a nouveau riche, but Muchen couldn't help but be impressed by the carefully tended gardens and exquisite statuary.

He was also looking forward to the chance to wash off the dust of the road. He did his best to keep himself clean, and the rain had helped, but there was only so much he could do to preserve his personal hygiene when he was sleeping under the stars. A warm bath and a soft bed were the only luxuries that he had on his mind.

Perhaps once he was better fed and better rested he would be more inclined to admire the money involved in maintaining a place like the Wang family residence in such pristine condition.