Chapter 50: The Counterfeit Money Scandal and Wudang's Bonds

“Old Zhou, you’re in such a miserable state—how can you still laugh so happily?” In the little courtyard of the fortune teller, Zhang Kai finally couldn’t hold back his curiosity and asked.

The truth was, Old Fortune Teller’s laughter was simply mad. He would break out laughing at the oddest moments, the very picture of a weasel who’d just stolen a chicken. But even a weasel would not stay so overjoyed for so long—it was as if just thinking about it sent him into a fit of uncontrollable glee.

Prompted by Zhang Kai’s remark, Old Fortune Teller couldn’t help but laugh again, his body quaking with mirth, even as he cursed between gasps: “What do you know, boy? I’ve been hit with a laughter curse! Damn it, after decades wandering the martial world, I never thought I’d capsize in a ditch like this.”

It seemed that his laughter tugged at the wound on his head, making him grimace in pain.

A laughter curse?

Zhang Kai was stunned. He had absolutely no idea about such a thing. Even with the myriad teachings of the White Cloud Temple, their inheritance was far from complete, and not everything was recorded.

Noticing Zhang Kai’s confusion, Old Fortune Teller forced down his laughter and explained, “It’s a kind of curse—not deadly, but excruciatingly tormenting. It’s from the line of spoken curses, a truly wicked art.”

“Spoken curses? What’s that?” Zhang Kai asked, undaunted.

Old Fortune Teller sighed, “Just what on earth have you learned? You know things that ordinary cultivators don’t, but the basics that everyone knows are lost on you.”

Zhang Kai replied, “Can’t be helped. I’m a rogue cultivator. What I know is just the fragmentary inheritance of the Maoshan tradition. Oh, but I do have something good, and it’s related to your Wudang. But getting it nearly cost me my life—I took a huge risk and paid dearly. If I just hand it back to you, I’d feel shortchanged.”

Old Fortune Teller curled his lip in disdain. “Something from my Wudang? Don’t try to fool me, boy. Yes, we’ve lost quite a bit of the Wudang Mystical Sect’s inheritance, but most of that vanished hundreds or thousands of years ago, lost to history, perhaps even completely severed. Even if you did get something, it’d be some minor technique—I’ve got all those archived. Keep it if you like.”

“Really?” Zhang Kai said. “So the Internal Alchemy Method is just a minor technique in the Wudang Mystical Sect? In that case—”

“What did you say?” Old Fortune Teller leapt to his feet, eyes wide in disbelief.

“The Internal Alchemy Method, apparently annotated by Zhang Sanfeng himself,” Zhang Kai said with a smile.

“Take it out,” Old Fortune Teller’s breathing grew rapid, his hand outstretched, eyes nearly bloodshot like a wolf’s.

Zhang Kai remained calm. “But you just said I should keep it for myself.”

“Don’t joke with me, boy. That’s the Wudang Mystical Sect’s supreme treasure, lost for centuries. Forget letting you keep it—even if you merely learned it without permission, I’d be responsible for retrieving it. This is Wudang’s top secret art, not to be leaked,” Old Fortune Teller’s expression turned grave.

Zhang Kai grinned. “I was just kidding. I don’t have it.”

Old Fortune Teller fell silent.

Zhang Kai laughed. “I’m kidding too. How could I do that to you? We hit it off at first sight—returning such a treasure to Wudang is a debt of gratitude heavier than the sky itself. Wudang is no such ungrateful sect. And rest assured, as long as you return the Internal Alchemy Method, not only can you keep what you’ve learned, you can even pass it down as your family’s legacy. There’s only one condition: whoever succeeds in learning the Internal Alchemy Method must serve as an elder of the Wudang Mystical Sect and, upon achieving mastery, come teach Wudang disciples as well. Consider it a bond of friendship.” Old Fortune Teller’s face shifted instantly to a warm, smiling expression.

Zhang Kai smirked. “Old Zhou, not long ago you taught me not to trust my peers too easily in this line of work.”

“That’s for dealing with outsiders, not your fellow cultivators,” Old Fortune Teller replied with a hint of exasperation. “That was self-preservation in the martial world, not a rule for comrades. If it were, how could the traditions of cultivation have been passed down through the ages? The whole world would be in chaos!”

“So if I return it to you, what do I get in return?” Zhang Kai pressed. “I want something tangible. If there’s nothing, then neither do I have it.”

Old Fortune Teller grinned slyly. “Then how about I trade you for a huge problem of yours?”

Zhang Kai glanced at Old Fortune Teller’s sorry state and laughed, “Seems like you’re in more trouble than I am right now.”

Old Fortune Teller looked at Zhang Kai with deep meaning. “Is that so? Seven or eight hundred million in counterfeit bills—do you have any idea what kind of mess that’s caused? And these fakes are so good, they’re indistinguishable from the real thing. I have to say, I’m quite curious—when did the Maoshan tradition gain such a miraculous art, conjuring money out of thin air, even fooling the banks? If the special departments hadn’t come to me, I wouldn’t have believed it myself.”

Zhang Kai’s smile froze. He stared at Old Fortune Teller in shock.

Seven or eight hundred million. Counterfeit money.

That number matched his bank balance precisely.

So the cash I took from the movies is considered counterfeit here? Then how have I been able to use it? And why hasn’t anyone come after me?

As if reading his thoughts, Old Fortune Teller continued, “Don’t worry. You gave Wudang Mountain a card with ten million in it. The special departments traced it back to Wudang, then found me. I guessed it was your handiwork, so Wudang Mystical Sect vouched for you. Doesn’t that count as protecting you?”

Zhang Kai’s face darkened.

Damn, even that was traced.

Of course, money has anti-counterfeiting markers, and every note issued by the central bank is numbered. The money from the films, while not technically fake due to the setting, isn’t integrated into the real-world financial system.

Blinded by greed at the time, Zhang Kai now felt foolish. With all the rare treasures in the movies, why fish for money? Now he was mired in trouble.

Looking at Old Fortune Teller, Zhang Kai said, “I really have to thank you. That’s a favor of the highest order. Here, this is Wudang’s Internal Alchemy Method.”

He took out the ancient manual without hesitation and handed it over.

Returning a favor in kind.

Since Old Fortune Teller had taken such a risk for him, how could he shamelessly demand more?

Old Fortune Teller received it, hands trembling, and eagerly leafed through it, his joy growing with every page. His laughter was genuine now, his eyes growing red with emotion.

After a long while, he carefully put the manual away and looked at Zhang Kai. “No need for thanks. Your favor to Wudang is beyond measure. If Wudang rises again, you will have been instrumental. Wudang will never forget your kindness.”

Before Zhang Kai could reply, Old Fortune Teller continued, “But your money can’t be used anymore. Per the special department’s orders, all of it must be zeroed out, and your personal accounts will be monitored. Any large transactions will be investigated. If this happens again, the Mystical Sect can’t cover for you any longer. Take care, and don’t tread down crooked paths.”

Zhang Kai breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry. I lost my head for a moment, but now that I’ve experienced it, being a billionaire doesn’t seem so great. If I ever need money again, I’ll earn it the proper way.”

Old Fortune Teller smiled. “That’s the way. A promising young man.”

Just then, an aged woman’s voice sounded from outside the courtyard.

“Old Daoist, I’ve come to see you again.”

Hearing the voice, Old Fortune Teller’s face fell. He cursed, “Damn it, that old hag just won’t give up!”

After cursing, his eyes darted toward Zhang Kai. “Brother, you got any mischief-making talismans? Like ones that make people act lewd in public, strip, or do a seductive dance?”

Zhang Kai was speechless.