After the wedding, Lauren was just about to take her leave when a familiar voice called out.

  “Ms. Lauren! You still remember me, right?”

  She turned—and immediately spotted him.

  Tall hair. Stiffer than a sword hilt. A tiny braided mustache pointing straight down.

  Hair to the heavens, beard to the earth.

  There was no forgetting that face.

  “Mr. Xavi,” Lauren said, smiling politely.

  Xavi stroked his mustache, eyes twinkling. “Hahaha! Good memory! Back in the Hidden Mist Secret Realm, I already thought you were different from the others. No wonder—you’re the Immortal Master’s disciple.”

  Lauren thought drily, With a look like that, even a ghost would remember you.

  “If you have time,” Xavi said, producing an embossed invitation, “you should visit the Calculation Sect. We’d be honored.”

  “Visit the Calculation Sect?”

  Lauren accepted the letter, curiosity sparking. The Calculation Sect—of the three great righteous sects—was the strangest.

  Unlike the Thunder Sect or the Moonlit Sect, they weren’t known for combat prowess, but for their divination techniques. Their sect treasure, the Heavenly Trigram Disk, was said to glimpse the secrets of fate itself.

  Secrets of the heavens…?

  That sounded worth investigating.

  Smiling faintly, Lauren said, “If my master approves, I’ll be glad to visit the Calculation Sect.”

  Xavi blinked, then burst into laughter. “Hahaha! Ms. Lauren is so cautious. So… ah, so adorable.”

  Lauren’s smile froze slightly.

  Adorable?

  This man didn’t just look strange—he talked strange too.

  After a few more polite exchanges, she excused herself, offering a courteous bow to Herbert on her way out.

  Herbert, still looking sour, waved a hand. “Fine, fine. Go on. Send my regards to your master.”

  Lauren found Dante talking with a few disciples near the exit and sent him a quick voice transmission.

  “I’m heading out. Master told me to go to Sunspire to find my senior brother. Are you staying here or heading back to the mountain?”

  Dante replied, “Staying here? Hell no. But I’m not going straight back either—I’m going to Sunspire too.”

  She blinked. “You’re going as well?”

  “Yeah. The once-a-decade Sunspire Auction starts in a few days. Everyone’s going. My master too. I’m just meeting up with him there.”

  Lauren’s eyes lit up. “Perfect. Let’s go together.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Together,” he agreed, grinning.

  When they arrived in Sunspire, the two naturally went their separate ways.

  Tarot had already checked in—at a five-story inn right in the city’s heart.

  Most buildings in Sunspire were only one or two stories tall, three at most. The inn towered above them like a royal palace, catching the light of the city’s endless spirit lamps.

  Lauren followed Tarot upstairs, all the way to the top floor. The suite occupied the entire fifth level. Standing by the wide window, she could see all of Sunspire glittering beneath her feet—the floating spirit bridges, the marketplaces thick with aura, the spire at the city’s center glowing like molten gold.

  The room itself was exquisite. A silken couch, polished spirit-wood floors, walls that shimmered faintly with embedded runes for insulation and privacy. It was the kind of luxury most cultivators never even dreamed of.

  Lauren frowned. “Isn’t this a bit much for one night?”

  Tarot grinned. “Of course it’s expensive. But we didn’t actually pay for it.”

  “Oh?” Lauren arched a brow. “Thunder Sect business?”

  “Mm… something like that.”

  He looked far too pleased with himself.

  “This entire inn,” he said casually, “belongs to Master. The fifth floor’s private—closed to the public.”

  Lauren froze. “…What?”

  “Master’s private property.”

  Her voice rose a pitch. “Master has private property?”

  Tarot gave her a look. “Of course he does. He’s been settled on Starfell Summit for years, but in his youth, he traveled everywhere. He’s got investments in half the continent. I told you he’s rich—you didn’t believe me.”

  Lauren stood there, blinking.

  She’d been reborn into the same life twice… and somehow only now realized her master was basically a goddamn tycoon.

  As his direct disciple, that technically made her—well, rich by association.

  Tarot noticed the way she was staring at him and rubbed his nose awkwardly. “What’s that look for?”

  “Just wondering,” she said, eyes narrowing, “how often you help Master run his businesses.”

  He chuckled. “All the time. Master never leaves the mountain anymore. I handle the collections. Otherwise, you think I’d still be in the Nascent Soul stage after centuries? Please.”

  “So you’re rich too?”

  Tarot flashed a grin. “Not bad, right? I don’t run errands for free. Master earns so many spirit stones he can’t even spend them all, so he’s generous with rewards.”

  Lauren snorted. “Generous, huh? Funny, last time you fought me over Yusuf’s ring, we split a handful of low-grade spirit stones, and you made sure every single one was counted. I thought you were broke.”

  “That’s called principle,” Tarot said matter-of-factly. “Brothers still have to keep accounts clear. Rich or poor doesn’t matter—accounts are accounts.”

  “…You’re impossible.”

  He just grinned wider.

  Then he pointed out the window. “See that white building across the street?”

  Lauren followed his finger. “Yeah.”

  “That’s the Treasure Pavilion.”

  “Don’t tell me—it’s also Master’s property.”

  “Correct.”

  “What does it do? Sell rare treasures?”

  “Nope,” Tarot said cheerfully. “Storage.”

  “Storage?” Lauren blinked.

  “Yeah. You can deposit treasures or spirit stones there for safekeeping. We charge a small fee.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Wait, people store spirit stones? I thought cultivators kept their valuables on storage rings or bracelets.”

  Tarot laughed. “You think everyone has a storage ring or bracelet like you? There are tens of millions of cultivators out there, and only a tiny fraction have spatial artifacts. The rest use bags—and those get stolen all the time. So when someone accumulates real wealth or rare treasures, they store them in the Pavilion. Even if their bag gets snatched, they only lose pocket money.”

  Lauren nodded slowly. Hearing the name Treasure Pavilion, she’d imagined some glittering auction house.

  But this—this was basically a bank.

  Her eyes widened. Wait… my master own a bank?

  “Well,” Tarot said, stretching lazily, “once this whole trip is over, I’ll be going back into seclusion to break through to the Spirit Severing stage. After that, all the ledgers and financial reports will go to you. You’ll be in charge of managing the businesses.”

  Lauren blinked. “...Who said that?”

  “I did.”

  “Your words don’t count. Only Master’s words count.”

  Tarot stared at her for a long second. “You’re really that stubborn?”

  Then he leaned forward with a sly grin. “Aren’t you always complaining you’re broke? If you take over, you’ll earn a commission—ten percent of the net profits. That’s a lot of spirit stones.”

  Lauren’s fingers twitched. Ten percent. That was… frankly, tempting.

  But—

  “I’ll still follow Master’s instructions,” she said weakly.

  Tarot groaned. “Master doesn’t care about this stuff! We can just handle it privately between us.”

  “But I don’t know how to manage any of that.”

  “I’ll teach you.”

  “No,” Lauren said flatly. “I’ll still follow Master.”