Chapter 8: I Want Money—A Huge Sum

Chen Xian arrived at the market and found a stall selling live poultry. After some haggling, he spent five hundred yuan to buy ten live chickens. He asked the owner to slaughter them all, then packed the ten chickens into two large black plastic bags and headed straight for the public restroom in the market.

Closing the door behind him, he placed the chickens on the floor and began to circulate the Supreme Chaos Technique. In an instant, two swirling vortices appeared in his palms, gently spinning. One by one, the chickens were drawn in by the vortices and began to spin as well.

A soft sizzling sound echoed as the ten chickens rapidly dissolved, transformed into wisps of faint energy, absorbed by the vortices and into his palms. Passing through a special channel, the energy ultimately gathered in his spirit wheel.

In less than a minute, the chickens had vanished completely. Chen Hao closed his eyes and examined his spirit wheel with his mind, discovering a one-centimeter-long, hair-thin strand of spiritual energy within.

Chen Xian gazed at the tiny wisp of energy, his thoughts stirring. Refining the flesh and blood of living beings indeed allowed him to quickly increase his spiritual energy in a short amount of time.

But ten chickens had only added such a small amount. To increase a ten-centimeter-long, hair-thin strand of energy, he would need a hundred chickens, costing five thousand yuan.

Five thousand yuan plus one minute equaled the result of three hours of absorbing spiritual energy through traditional cultivation.

His spirit wheel’s space was vast; if he relied solely on the thin, almost negligible spiritual energy from the world to fill it, who knew how many years it would take—perhaps fifty, perhaps a hundred.

If so, he’d exhaust his lifespan before condensing a second spirit wheel, and end up cremated, reduced to a pile of ashes.

According to the Supreme Chaos Technique, every time a cultivator breaks through to a new level, their lifespan increases. Perfect mastery would lead to immortality.

Since fate had granted him such a heaven-defying technique, he couldn’t squander the opportunity bestowed upon him.

It seemed he would have to find ways to earn large sums of money to fuel his cultivation and rapidly advance his abilities.

Chen Xian did not buy more chickens. The hundred thousand yuan in his account was for his parents, to improve their lives.

Besides, for his enormous spirit wheel, buying chickens with ten thousand yuan was like a drop in the ocean.

If he wished to progress quickly, he needed money—vast sums of it.

He left the restroom, returned to the market, spent three hundred yuan on a slab of beef, a fish, some pork ribs, and a bottle of his father’s favorite rice wine, then rode his electric scooter home.

Tonight, he would cook a proper meal to improve his family’s diet.

Chen Xian had already called his mother to tell her he would handle dinner that evening.

At 5:20 p.m., he arrived at North City Community, a low-rent housing complex built by the government for struggling families.

His family had rented here for ten years, and barring unforeseen changes, would likely stay for many more. Families like his could never afford to buy a home; even out in the suburbs, prices were over twelve thousand yuan per square meter.

“Oh, Xian, so many groceries and wine—are you expecting important guests at home?” Uncle Zhang, a neighbor returning from work, greeted him in the elevator.

Chen Xian smiled and replied, “No guests, Uncle Zhang. We just haven’t had a good meal in a while. Thought we’d treat ourselves today.”

Soon the elevator reached the twelfth floor. Chen Xian stepped out, walked to his door, and knocked.

The door opened to reveal the gentle, wrinkled face of his mother, Xu Lanhua. Seeing her son’s arms full of groceries, she looked worried and scolded, “Xian, it’s good you’re home, but why buy so much food? How much did this cost?”

Though Chen Xian wasn’t in charge of household finances, he knew how tight things were and how expensive daily necessities had become. His mother was frugal, reluctant to spend money; she would split every coin in two if she could. He didn’t argue, only smiled.

Xu Lanhua sighed, took the groceries from him, and limped toward the kitchen.

Watching his mother struggle with her legs, Chen Xian felt a pang of sorrow. Illness had tormented her for decades. He resolved to use spiritual energy to help treat her after dinner.

“Mom, you rest outside. Leave the kitchen to me.” Chen Xian rolled up his sleeves, washing vegetables as he asked, “Where are my sister and Dad? Why aren’t they home yet?”

The apartment was barely forty square meters; after subtracting two bedrooms and a bathroom, the kitchen was so small only one person could move around inside—two would be cramped.

“Your sister should be home soon. Your father called earlier; he has to work overtime and will probably be back around seven,” Xu Lanhua replied.

Chen Xian nodded, then began to clean the fish and cut the beef, his movements deft and practiced.

Children from poor families grow up fast. He’d learned to cook early and could even outshine his mother in the kitchen. He was the family’s chief cook, and every holiday, if he was home, he took charge.

Soon, delicious aromas wafted from the kitchen.

“Wow, it smells amazing! Mom, what’s for dinner tonight?” came a clear, bell-like voice.

The door opened, and a beautiful girl with a ponytail, wearing a school uniform and carrying a backpack, walked in.

This was Chen Xian’s sister, Chen Nizi—a lively, clever, and kind-hearted girl. Her grades were top-notch, consistently ranked first in her entire grade.

“The chef tonight is your brother. If you want something tasty, you’ll have to ask him,” said Xu Lanhua, wearing reading glasses and stitching shoe soles, smiling gently at her younger daughter.

Though she worried about her son spending so much on food, she did not stay angry after a brief scolding. She knew her husband worked hard and Nizi needed nutrition to grow.

Hearing this, Chen Nizi dropped her bag and headed straight for the kitchen.

“Brother, you’re back!” she called, peeking her head into the kitchen, her big, bright eyes fixed on the cooked beef. She blinked and said, “Wow, beef! Brother, give your little sister a piece!”

Chen Xian turned and smiled fondly at her. He picked up a glossy, steaming piece of beef and handed it to her, saying, “Little glutton, here you go!”

“Brother, it’s delicious! Your cooking keeps getting better. Whoever marries you in the future will be so lucky!” Chen Nizi opened her mouth gleaming with oil and said, “Brother, can I have another piece?”

“All right, stop buttering me up. One last piece!” Chen Xian laughed, handing her another piece.

Then, he turned his attention back to the kitchen—the fish was perfectly fried and would be overdone if left any longer.

He quickly removed the fish from the pan.

By 6:40 p.m., six dishes and a yam and pork rib soup were ready and arranged on the table. The colors were vibrant, the balance between meat and vegetables perfect, and all that remained was waiting for his father, Chen Changhe, to return so the family could feast.

Chen Nizi picked up her chopsticks, eager to sneak a taste, but her mother stopped her, “No manners! Your father will be home any minute.”

“Fine, I’ll watch TV for now,” Chen Nizi said, putting down her chopsticks and turning on the television.

“We interrupt with breaking news. At 5:30 p.m. today, a jewelry store in the North City commercial district of H City was robbed by armed thieves. Three people were killed, and a large quantity of gold jewelry was stolen. There were five robbers in total, four men and one woman, all armed…

Citizens with information about these robbers are urged to contact the police immediately. For valuable leads, rewards of fifty to one hundred thousand yuan will be offered,” the news reported.

Watching the violent images on TV, Xu Lanhua warned her children, “You must be careful going out to school. Be patient if trouble arises—society is still quite chaotic.”

“Mom, my brother and I are lucky stars! We won’t run into any bad people,” Chen Nizi replied, smiling with two dimples.

Ding-dong!

The doorbell rang.

Chen Nizi’s beautiful face lit up, and she ran to open the door. “It must be Dad!”

“Nizi, help your father inside,” came the voice of a middle-aged man as she opened the door.