Dao of the Deal

They made decent time as they moved westward, traveling parallel to the Tuanliu river. Muchen didn't bother trying to set up a roadside stand in the nigh-deserted towns that they passed. He was ready to take the hit to his cultivation in order to avoid wasting his time. Luckily, though, his cultivation continued unabated. It seemed that the heavens didn't mind if he kept his eye on long term profitability instead of maximizing his short term cash flow through ultimately wasted efforts.

The relatively clear weather held until they reached Jiliu City, which sat at the confluence of the Tuanliu and Bejiliu rivers. Its location and proximity to the capital made it a major hub of trade. It was also the location where they would need to turn south in order to make their way to Li Village. The two of them entered town just as a few flakes of snow began to fall. By the time Muchen had booked a room at the inn, the snow was coming down in heavy flurries.The next day, he woke to find at least half a foot of snow accumulated on the road outside.

Muchen didn't mind being snowed in. After all, he had a bit of business to take care of before he headed out to the boonies.

First of all, there was the matter of the high end goods he was carrying. While the people of Li Village would be dazzled by the fancy dresses and fine jewelry, they could hardly afford to spend nearly what they were worth.

Muchen spent the better part of the morning traipsing from jewelry store to high end pawn shop to fashion boutique. At the end of the day, he was still laden with just as much jewelry as he had been carrying when he set out. He was eager to sell his goods, not give them away.

Muchen understood that he wouldn't get full retail price. The stores had to make money, after all. What had caught him by surprise was when nobody would offer more than one tenth of the jewelry's true value. He might have been grateful for that bit of silver if he had stolen the jewelry, but seeing as he had paid a pretty penny for it he needed to get a more reasonable price in order to break even.

Well, not counting the fact that due to Heisan's contribution he had effectively gotten the jewelry for free. To Muchen's mind, the profit from the jewelry was part of the windfall he deserved for dealing with Heisan successfully.

Unfortunately, the merchants of Jiliu City seemed to disagree. Muchen took a moment to study himself. His hair hadn't been tended to since well before his departure from the capital. His clothes, though sturdy, showed the unmistakable marks of hard travel.

He sighed. It was only natural that the shopkeepers took one look at him, another look at the jewelry meant for teenage girls that he was selling, and came to the conclusion that he was peddling stolen goods.

Fine, then, For now, he could book the jewelry as an asset on his balance sheet, not particularly liquid, to be turned into cash over time.

He was still irritated as he returned to the inn. He was frustrated with the shopkeepers who offered him outrageously low prices for his goods, and he was annoyed with himself for losing his temper. As a merchant, the last thing he needed was to get personal emotions involved in the bargaining process. It was unprofessional, and it would cost him money in the long run. He'd gotten complacent after dealing with merchants in the capital who were too dignified—or too worried of offending the Wang family—to try and chisel him down to an unreasonably low selling price.

He'd need to take the evening to sort out his attitude and make sure he was approaching his tasks with the right mindset.

His mood improved as he made his way to the inn's common room. The prospect of buying his dinner was doubly rewarding: first because he didn't have to cook, and second because he didn't have to eat his own cooking. Muchen was still dwelling on how he was going to unload the fine clothing and jewelry in his cart as he started eating, but he was soon distracted by the chatter coming from the men beside him.

"I told you that Chen boy was a hidden dragon! If you'd listened to me, you could have shared in the winnings."

"Don't pretend you had some great insight. He only won by staying on his feet for a heartbeat longer than his opponent."

"A win's a win, is what I say!"

Muchen made a habit of staying in the cheapest available inn that was both safe and clean. In this case, it meant that the dining room consisted of several long, shared tables. That made it easy to insert himself into the discussion.

"Was there a tournament here recently?"

The man who had been boasting of his winnings made an expansive gesture with his mug full of wine. To Muchen's eye, he had the look of a merchant. A successful one, judging by his fine clothing and the extra padding around his midsection. "You've never heard of the Northern Region Sect Qualifiers?"

Muchen shook his head. "I'm a simple traveling merchant. I don't pay much attention to such things."

"You missed a great show," the man replied. "Not to mention the chance to earn a great deal of silver."

"Don't listen to this windbag," another man cut in, the same man who had been arguing earlier. He looked much the same as his friend, though his drooping mustache gave him a more melancholy air. "Gambling is just throwing your money away in the end."

"Wagering on cultivators does seem risky," Muchen said.

"There's no risk if you know what you're doing," the first man said, before lowering his voice and taking on a conspiratorial tone. "My wife's cousin has a friend who helps make the odds for the bookmakers. He was the one who told me about young Chen."

"I see," Muchen said. "Should I wager on this Chen next year, then?"

The other two men laughed. Muchen watched them, more confused than annoyed. He didn't have any real inclination to wager on individual fights. He didn't have any moral objection to it, but he'd rather be the one making the book than placing bets.

The man with the mustache got hold of himself first and gave Muchen a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Each cultivator can only participate in the Qualifiers once."

"That's a pity," Muchen said. "What are they qualifying for?"

Muchen had never paid too much attention to the day to day activities of sects on the Qianzhan Continent. It stood to reason that they would have friendly martial competitions, but with cultivators only being allowed to participate once and the emphasis on betting, it sounded more like the Kentucky Derby than a dignified battle between cultivators.

"It's not the fighters who qualify."

It took a bit of doing, as the mustached man and his friend had a tendency to talk over each other, but eventually Muchen was able to get the whole story behind the competition. Overall, it had to do with sect rankings.

The very top of the Qianzhan Continent was occupied by the five hegemon sects. Of course a little competition like this was beneath their notice. At most they might send an observer to watch the proceedings. The next level below that was their immediate vassals, the Guardian Sects. These sects might not be absolute top tier existences, but they were still giants—almost all of them boasted more than one Golden Core cultivator.

It was the bottom two ranks that had to worry about the qualifying tournament. The absolute lowest level of cultivation groups on the Qianzhan Continent were the loose sects. Anybody who cultivated and who taught others to cultivate could call himself a sect leader and his home a sect. None of it counted for anything, though, until you were able to climb the ladder by qualifying for official recognition.

A qualified sect could post an official notice from the Qianzhan Empire by their signboard. More importantly, their land was exempt from taxation and their disciples were exempt from ordinary customs inspections. It was a glorious thing, but the requirements were strict: four disciples had to participate in the qualifying tournament and make it through to the knockout rounds.

As the men explained, a sect had to have a broad foundation. One outstanding disciple wasn't enough. And of course, in order to keep their qualifications, those low level sects would have to do well in the tournament year after year. The endless competition helped explain why every sect was always on the lookout for new talent.

Muchen didn't have any intention to accept his new friends' betting tips, but he did make a note to remember when the tournament came around next year. Any time a crowd gathered together, it was an opportunity for a clever merchant to make money.

The next day, he set out to handle the other major bit of business that he had left to take care of. As it involved spending money rather than trying to make money, things naturally went smoothly.

His trip to the blacksmith was simple enough. Muchen came away with a dozen lengths of iron rod, a cup full of iron fillings, and a new hammer, all for just two taels of silver.

More expensive, though, was the two barrels of rice wine that he picked up. Even the cheapest of wine got pricey when you were buying it in bulk. He did get them to throw in several empty jugs and a box full of ceramic mugs for a reasonable price. He also picked up a couple of jugs of high quality wine, as well as enough rice to feed a family of four for a few months.

It put a dent in his savings, but he still had more than enough to carry out his plans.

All in all, Muchen's business plans were going reasonably well. He had a little over seven hundred taels in ready cash. He had roughly fifty taels worth of stock of fine clothing and two hundred taels worth of jewelry, which he would be selling off whenever he could. And he had the key pieces of equipment that he'd had built in the capital. Businesses had been started with far less.

Muchen returned from the blacksmith and stored away most of his things. He took his purchases from the blacksmith and made his way to a secluded area of the inn's back garden. Xinyi followed along, casting doubtful looks at the small pile of equipment he was carrying in his arms.

Muchen propped up one of the iron rods and started hammering away at it. He made sure to continually pepper one end with solid strikes, though he kept the power to a merely human level. He wasn't aiming to destroy anything. Quite the opposite.

After a while, he stopped and took the iron rod in hand. With the other, he prepared a small pile of iron filings. He slowly brought the rod closer to the pile. This had worked when he did it back in high school, but he still couldn't contain the grin that broke out when he saw the first few filings fly up through the air.

"You created a lodestone?"

Muchen nodded. "It's the first step to making electricity. This one is too weak by itself, though."

Muchen repeated the process, hammering away until he'd converted six of the iron rods into magnets.

When he was done, he checked to identify the north and south poles before tying them all together. Their combined magnetic pull still wasn't anything to write home about, but it was enough for his purposes. He took one of the remaining iron bars and ran the oversized magnet's north pole from one end to the other, over and over again, always moving in the same direction.

His reward for all his efforts was another permanent magnet, this one at least decently strong. Muchen tested it by picking up some nails, before setting the bar back down on the table.

"Another lodestone?" Xinyi asked.

Muchen nodded. "I'm trying to remember what comes next."

When they did this in school, they would run the bar magnet through a coiled loop of copper wire. That resulted in electricity for reasons that Muchen no longer remembered, which they had proven at the time by hooking the wire up to a voltmeter. Muchen could get some copper wire from the jeweler's, but a voltmeter would be a little harder to come by. To be honest, he wasn't sure how to go about detecting an electric current other than just touching the wire, which seemed like a bad idea.

"I think I'll need some time to figure it out," Muchen finally admitted.

Xinyi shrugged. "You have some time before you need to settle on your foundational scripture."

Muchen nodded. He already had plenty on his plate, but he wanted to at least unlock the basics of electrical generation. Not that he expected to be building electric motors any time soon, but now that he'd gotten halfway along in the project it would nag at the back of his mind until he finished. Not to mention the benefits he would enjoy from cultivating a scripture that had even impressed Xinyi.

Unfortunately, he didn't make any progress over the next few days while they were snowed in to Jiliu City. He picked up a pretty good stock of copper wire, but he didn't want to try making any large scale electrical experiments until he had the space and privacy of Li Village to work with. He did manage to sell one of the Long family dresses, at least. He even managed to convince the customer to buy a pair of earrings that matched well with the dress.

Turning his inventory into cash was going to be a gradual process. Muchen didn't let himself stare longingly at his stockpile of unsold jewelry for more than a few minutes a day.

His cultivation continued to progress in leaps and bounds. It was reassuring to confirm that he didn't have to work retail every day for the rest of his life in order to max out his cultivation speed. Muchen was still working out the detailed rules. He could still feel the connection to the distant capital, but he could also feel something taking root in the local area. If he had to guess, the fact that he was making plans for the future of his business was enough to count for his dao. Not as much as his trade with Heisan, which had been the successful result of the most high stakes negotiation of his life, but at least enough to propel his cultivation forward at a good clip. It hadn't been that long since he opened his eighth meridian, and he could already sense that he was approaching the barrier of the ninth.

After a week in Jiliu City, the bad weather cleared up and it was time to be on his way. Once they were out in the countryside, Xinyi insisted that he resume his martial exercises. Muchen still didn't enjoy the training, exactly, but he did feel like he was making progress. He was still far from being able to defend himself from a serious attack, at least according to Xinyi, but at least he was improving every day.