Dao Equaling the Heavens

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[The Heavenly Marrow is Exhausted]

[Yuqing Sword Skill, First Form: Frost]

Gu Wen pointed at the candle that was about to burn out, and a weak, twisted Sword Qi dropped from the tip of his finger. A gust of wind from outside blew out the candle flame.

He looked around and saw that there was no one around, and heaved a sigh of relief.

Then, he flew into a rage, thinking if the sword had its own consciousness, he would definitely grab it by the collar and shout, "You're just a lousy sword move, and you want to compete with the cultivation of an immortal's mental method?"

The Yuqing Sword Skill had nine forms, beginning with the comprehension of the Yuqing Sword Intent, followed by the power of each form ascending with the heavens. He wasn't sure if it was standard issue for the Sanqing Taoist Sect, or if it was a heritage from top-ranked Immortal Sects, but the sword technique scripture also included many epiphanies and insights from great powers.

According to the records within, each form of the Yuqing Sword Skill increased its lethality exponentially, with instances of warriors grasping sword moves on the battlefield to turn the tide of battle. The first form of Yuqing Sword Skill, Frost, is recorded as follows: "The sword unleashes Frost, spanning a hundred li in the frost."

He didn't seek to cover a hundred li in frost, not even ten meters were necessary, it would be good enough just to cut people down.

But this couldn't even snuff out a candle. The Sword Intent was as twisted as a man's split stream when he urinates!

Refund!

Gu Wen exhaled a breath laden with Dull Energy. His good qualities forged through many years of trials and tribulations enabled him to calm down, analyze the problem, and seek pragmatic solutions.

Yu Hua wouldn't have deceived him, so there must not be a problem with the Yuqing Sword Skill; hence, the issue was likely with him.

Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he turned to the opening chapter of Yuqing Sword Skill, the Magic Skill of nurturing Sword Intent.

"In the beginning, it's dark and profound; Sword Intent shines through, ascending the nine heavens...."

Nurturing the sword, honing the sword, breaking the sword.... Such a cycle went on and on to foster the Sword Intent until the mere Sword Intent could pierce the clouds—then it was truly accomplished.

And Yuqing Sword Skill's emphasis was on nurturing the sword. He had comprehended the first sword move, but this didn't mean that Gu Wen could use it. His Sword Intent was still fragile, like a single strand of hair.

A Fate Diagram isn't something that's just conferred, it's about understanding the way, allowing him to grasp the Cultivation Technique.

The faster the comprehension of the mental method, the swifter the cultivation, but his Mana wouldn't instantly amass several centuries' worth of power—just as with the Sword Technique.

So, he still had to practice on his own?

The rise of this unmatched genius seemed to be postponed.

Gu Wen twisted the corner of his mouth, seeing that it wasn't completely light outside yet, and resumed his devoted cultivation, eyes closed and not neglecting any detail.

Outside, from the crowing of the roosters to the morning bustle, then from the bustle to the peace of midday before returning to silence.

Thus, he sat motionless, meditating amidst the hubbub of the market, dealing with those who came to him only when necessary. But, as Gu Wen was a great merchant standing atop Dragon Bridge, there was hardly anything that required his attention, except for a summons from the palace, which he could leave for Jiang Fugui to handle.

Cultivation, there is only truth in cultivation.

Wealth can be spent, positions can be lost, all for the sake of becoming an Immortal!

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At the royal residence, a graceful young master stood outside a courtyard, looking melancholic. He casually plucked a pear blossom, sniffed it, then gazed at the courtyard.

Feng Xiang, his companion, covered his face and wiped away tears, genuinely touched by his master's profound love. Probably only His Highness could show such deep affection for a woman, creating astonishing gossip if word got out. Of course, the common folk wouldn't care how deeply Zhao Feng loved; they were more curious about what kind of Heavenly Girl could ensnare a prince so thoroughly.

A donkey with a swinging gait walked out from the courtyard, its posture and movements almost human-like, and the people within the palace had become accustomed to it, even calling it an Immortal.

It was not unusual for people to find divinity in certain animals, and the donkey enjoyed being called as such; it was a pastime to stave off boredom.

Another great source of amusement came from Zhao Feng.

The donkey approached Zhao Feng. The prince bowed respectfully and said, "I greet the senior."

Zhao Feng knew that the creature before him was not merely a simple mount, but possessed powers far beyond that—its status on par with his emperor father.

The donkey spoke, "It's not good for you to wait here every day."

Zhao Feng humbly asked for advice, "Please tell me what I should do."

"This Daosect member, Heavenly Girl, has an extraordinary background—you know this well—and there are countless suitors within the sect enchanted by her beauty and talents," the donkey said then paused, continuing only after Zhao Feng brought him a Pill, "To a Cultivator, appearance is not the most valuable attribute; striving against heaven to master their cultivation is. However, Yu Hua also enjoys the arts like music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. You might try to pique her interest with these, even though she generally doesn't accept gifts from others."

Zhao Feng understood and promised, "From now on, I will send more Spiritual Medicines and paintings to the senior."

"A teachable lad."

The donkey grinned, revealing white and chillingly cold teeth, as if they could bite through steel.

Then, it leisurely returned to the courtyard, while Zhao Feng hesitated and then chased after it for a few steps, saying, "Senior... could you please pass on my regards to Yu Hua?"

The donkey glanced back at him and said, "That requires an additional fee."

"I understand, of course," Zhao Feng replied.

After a grimace, he produced another Pill for the donkey.

The donkey, who did business for money, had just returned to the courtyard when it saw Yu Hua who had climbed over the wall back into the palace. Before it could relay the message, Yu Hua had already returned to her room with a tired face.

Mental methods in cultivation could alleviate fatigue as a substitute for sleep, but Yu Hua had been assisting Gu Wen in his cultivation all through the night. Not only did it fail to alleviate fatigue, it greatly aggravated it.

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"Yu Hua, the Zhao family kid is looking for you."

"Let's talk about it when I wake up in the afternoon."

"But the kid waited for you all night after all, and being the Venerable's son, we also need to rely on the Zhao family's strength to search for the Immortality Pill..."

Bang!

Yu Hua closed the door of her room; her brows furrowed, the donkey had taken bribes time and again, and the sect's dealings with the Zhao family went on without ever consulting her.

Can she really help the grandmaster reverse life and death by working with these bugs?

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Nothing notable happened in January, but by April 13th, the Small Fullness arrived.

Light rain drizzled incessantly, the rivers were prone to overflow, and the townspeople offered sacrifices to the God of Carts, with a cup of pure water among the sacrificial items. Whether scattered into rivers and lakes or poured onto parched fields, it was to pray for abundant water sources.

Gu Wen took over the royal palace's weaving factory, which had been burned down during the recent riot, but fortunately, most of the weaving machinery was preserved. What was missing were hands and materials.

The former was certainly not lacking; women of this era all knew how to weave, and with a simple gesture, he could recruit masses of refugees, paying half wages and providing enough food. What Bianjing lacked the least was unemployed people—by hiring all these people at minimal cost, it was certain to be profitable.

Of course, the precondition was that you could deal with the wolfish and leopard-like officials cloaked in government skins, ready to take a bite out of you from high-ranking officers to petty clerks. Often the money earned was insufficient to cover the costs of smoothing over relationships.

Thus, great merchants had to rely on a powerful patron.

By relying on the palace, no one would bother Gu Wen. Making money to buy medicine was simple... as if.

Jiang Fugui walked in from outside and whispered in Gu Wen's ear, "Master, there is a problem—the silk can't be collected."

"Why?"

"Wars. Ze County is currently being plundered by barbarian cavalry, the county soldiers hold the city and dare not fight, three thousand riders rampage throughout five hundred li of land, so that now no one dares travel the official roads. The only way is through Jiangnan Road, transfering ships along the Qian River to Bianjing."

"The exorbitant taxes and levies all feed the generals' bellies."

Gu Wen left the weaving factory, quite disheartened, with a sweep of his sleeve and a ride in his carriage; he knew the factory wouldn't open now. He was hoping to make a quick profit from the new batch of silk to buy medicine.

At present, the only way to make money was...

The carriage moved at a steady pace, and Jiang Fugui, sitting beside him, kept glancing at Gu Wen with a hesitant look on his face, speaking, "Master, the major grain merchants have invited you to act as a notary. I know you don't like getting involved in these matters, but this time they're offering three thousand taels."

Merchants conducted their business with a strong sense of brotherhood; big deals often involved inviting prestigious figures within the industry to witness.

Famine years were always good opportunities to make money—once grain prices soared, officials were happy with their profits, grain merchants made a fortune, wealthy households lent money, and people sold themselves in denture markets. It was a happy chain for everyone from top to bottom.

And their Water House, or rather Mr. Wen as one of the spokespersons for Dragon Bridge, might not make the most money, but was certainly among the most influential. Anyone opening a shop or doing business couldn't possibly not need water.

"Not going."

Gu Wen's gaze never deviated; his voice was calm and without a hint of hesitation.

Although Jiang Fugui still felt reluctant—the thought of passing up such easy money, only for someone else to make it—he knew that Gu Wen was the boss.

"Fugui, there is some money we can't make, and besides making money, there are bigger surprises waiting for us to confront."

Gu Wen rubbed the calluses on his palms, looking out the window at the rolling masses of refugees; Bianjing had strict controls on population inflow, and it was impossible for refugees to enter the city.

They were all original residents of Bianjing, even driven to homelessness at the feet of the Emperor. What then was the situation like outside?

"Bring your family to my house during this time."

Jiang Fugui shivered, clever enough to ask cautiously, "Master, do you think there will be civil unrest again?"

"It's certain."

Returning home.

Gu Wen had hardly settled down when a group of officials knocked on the large gate. The leader held documents, reciting arrogantly, "The Saint Emperor presides over the court, the world is peaceful, citizens live securely. However, barbarians to the north scorn the Saint Majesty, plundering the territory of Daqian. The court wishes to dispatch troops to expel the invaders, even marching north for a campaign, the coordination and recruitment of the imperial guard to drive away the barbarians requires money and grain—the citizens of Bianjing have an inescapable responsibility. This year's salt-selling money, poll tax, paper money tax, gate stall tax, and so on, add one tenth."

"The past twenty years of unpaid taxes, big or small households, must also recoup and pay in full."

Last year, the taxes for this year were already collected, and the year before that as well—turns out there's still more to pay? You Zhao family really must think you'll live a long time, why don't you collect a hundred years' worth of taxes all at once?

Gu Wen cursed inwardly and then dutifully paid a full thousand taels in various taxes.

Bank savings of six thousand five hundred taels, after deducting a thousand for exorbitant taxes, left five thousand five hundred taels.

And this was just the taxes for his residence and all the servants; counting the Dragon Bridge Water House would cost almost ten thousand, but thankfully, being backed by the palace, the Water House didn't have to pay taxes.

To Gu Wen, a thousand taels was no small amount of money; what he could keep in hand over a year was merely three thousand taels. The other several hundred thousand all went to Zhao Feng; the so-called wealth of merchants didn't even compare to half that of the scholars.

His recent spending was like running water, not because he earned so much on ordinary days, but because Gu Wen was clear on the million-fold return on his investment in cultivation.

Damn Zhao family, bide the time!

The celebration of the Small Fullness harvest came to an abrupt end with the progress of the official tax collection teams; wails continued into the night, such that even the nearing summer nights were chill with howling winds.

Gu Wen no longer went out, locking himself deep within his residence to practice his cultivation technique, oblivious to affairs outside his window.

In this world, the best he could do was to preserve himself.