The small black pot simmered with short rib stew, enough for two hearty meals. The rich, meaty aroma mingled with smoke, filling every corner of the room.
Ning grinned as he stirred with a wooden spoon, watching chunks of root vegetables rise and fall in the bubbling broth.
"Twenty-four hours of braising", he thought smugly. "Finally. A perfect rib stew. Today's a good day, hehe."
Salivating ungracefully, he put down the pot from the stove and placed it on the table.
Dinner~ Is~ Served~
"Ah, right... my phone."
Ning rose from his seat and turned toward the counter where he had casually placed his phone while cooking. As he approached, he reached out and touched the phone, causing it to suddenly light up with a notification.
Ning glanced at his phone, and then, in an instant, everything seemed to explode.
After that, all he could see was red as an overwhelming wave of dizziness washed over him.
No! Not now! Twenty-four hours of braising and I don't even get a bite?!
As his consciousness slipped away, he swore.
F*Ck, I WANT TO EAT MY STEW!!
...
His eyelids were tightly shut, and his body felt heavy. He was lying on a hard surface, and a suffocating smell of smoke filled the air.
*Cough*Cough*
Fire?
Wait, no, no, no, no-I couldn't die yet. I still had to eat that stew.
Then suddenly, a cool chill washed away his dizziness as Ning stood up.
Opening his eyes, he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. He found himself in a small cave with only a mat, stove, and cupboard.
What had happened?
Where was he?
Seeing the unknown place, Ning couldn't help but question himself.
He slowly suppressed the slight panic he felt inside and attempted to calm down.
Ning observed his surroundings and didn't make hasty decisions.
Instinct screamed to panic, but he wrestled it down. Running around blindly was how horror movie extras died. He'd watched enough "what not to do" clips to know better.
So, he forced his breathing steady. Stay calm. Think.
That was when the migraine hit.
It was as if all the built-up pressure was released at once. Accompanying the pain was a series of memories that were utterly unfamiliar to him.
Ning's legs gave way, his eyes rolled back, and he fainted again.
...
Ning's eyes slowly fluttered open, his mind swirling with a mix of disturbance and astonishment upon processing the information he had just absorbed.
Transmigration. He had transmigrated into a different world.
It was a clichéd plotline, straight out of the "I transmigrated to a different world" genre. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sheer predictability of it all. The memories he had glimpsed belonged to this new body he now inhabited.
"F*ck, I was just going to eat some stew. How the hell did I transmigrate so suddenly?"
He groaned, rubbing his throbbing temples. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to stay calm amidst the chaos in his head. Slowly, the fragmented memories began to connect, forming a clearer picture of the world he'd landed in.
It was a world greatly resembling those of Xianxia and Wuxia novels. Here, cultivators harnessed the energy of heaven and earth to transcend their mortal limits.
"The original owner was also called Ning. How creepy…" he muttered, his voice taking on an eerie tone before he shook off the unease. Curiosity soon replaced discomfort as he dug deeper into the memories.
Ji Ning, son of the local martial arts master. Unlike cultivators, martial artists didn't possess spiritual roots. They relied purely on physical techniques and discipline to survive in this world.
A month ago, during a routine test, Ji Ning had been discovered to possess cultivation aptitude, a spiritual root. Among hundreds of people, finding even one such person was rare. Naturally, cultivation sects fought to recruit these rare talents to strengthen their ranks, and the original Ji Ning had mid-grade spiritual roots. So, he joined one of the sects.
Unfortunately, his luck didn't last. The moment he began his journey to cultivate, he suffered an extremely rare qi deviation and died on the spot.
"Damn, this guy really choked at the starting line."
Recalling everything, Ning couldn't help but feel a little pity. The original owner was truly unlucky.
After a few minutes, he sighed and accepted the situation; there was really no choice. It wasn't like he could just Ctrl+Z reality.
From what he remembered, this world was very similar to the cultivation novels he used to read. It was a world full of danger, whether from monstrous beasts or humans themselves. A world that revolved around strength, ruled by the law of the jungle.
Ning narrowed his eyes. Oddly enough, he wasn't as panicked as he thought he would be. A little panic was natural, of course, but it was overshadowed by his growing interest in cultivation and the mysteries of this new world.
Perhaps it was adrenaline pushing him through, but he didn't mind. He had already decided to become a cultivator, the only viable path available to him that could change his situation. Whether it was to return to his original world, become a so-called immortal, or simply out of curiosity, he felt that he needed to learn and cultivate. Eventually, the answers would reveal themselves.
Since he was already in this situation, panicking would do no good. It was best to adapt and play it by ear. And the first step was to accept his new identity.
Taking a deep breath, he muttered to himself, "From this moment forth, I am Ji Ning."
A pause. His lips twitched.
"But dammit… I still want my stew."Last edited: Oct 6, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:call of dutty, Sushiseller, Zivlanir and 588 othersPlumBlossomSep 11, 2025Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks 1.2 Panel View contentPlumBlossomSloth incarnateSep 12, 2025Add bookmark#16It had been a day since he had accepted the fact that he was, in fact, in a fantasy world. A wet dream for any Otaku, surely.
During this time, Ning dedicated himself to adjusting his mindset and familiarizing himself with his new environment.
One of his primary focuses was delving into the depths of his acquired memories, gaining a more comprehensive understanding of the body he now inhabited.
This process proved to be immensely beneficial for Ning. As he delved deeper into the recesses of his mind, he unearthed a wealth of knowledge that shed light on his newfound capabilities.
Compared to his old body, this one was far stronger. He felt power in his limbs, balance in his movements, and a sense of sharpness that his previous life had never known.
The original Ji Ning had trained diligently in martial arts from a young age, and for that, Ning supposed he owed "his" father some thanks.
Of course, the most important thing he found was a panel.
Ning closed his eyes and whispered inwardly, "Status."
A flood of information cascaded through his consciousness as the panel materialized before him, displaying his essential attributes and capabilities:
[Name: Ji Ning.
Spiritual Root: Mid-grade Spiritual Root.
Attributes: Five Elemental Attributes.
Talent: Extreme Space-Time Sensitivity.
Cultivation: 1st realm of Qi Condensation (Consolidating).
Cultivation Technique: Pure Qi Sutra.
Martial Arts: Bone Forging Fist (mortal), Shadow Steps (mortal).]
A deep sigh escaped Ning's lips as he observed the contents of the panel. It was both intriguing and overwhelming to have access to such detailed information about himself and his abilities.
Initially, he had treated the idea of possessing a system as a mere joke, casually uttering words like "System," "Panel," "Properties," and "Status" in a playful manner. Little did he expect that he would really manifest a panel.
Initially, Ning's mind was blown by the appearance of the panel. After all, with a system, even a pig can fly, but soon his elation gave way to a tinge of disappointment.
After spending an entire day exploring its functions, the panel turned out to be nothing more than a display of his current status. There was no shop function, no add button, just a simple reflection of his attributes.
His dream of becoming a heaven-defying handsome immortal cultivator vanished just like that.
Oh! How he wished that he could simply upgrade with just a click of a button and only come out of his cave after he became invincible.
But alas, it was not meant to be.
Of course, that was just a bit of theatrics.
In truth, Ning was indeed disappointed that he did not have a full-fledged system, but he also did not mind it too much.
After all, the systems he read about were basically reality-warping devices, ones that would easily make even immortals jealous. So why would he be fortunate enough to get such a thing free of cost?
One thing Ning had learned in his life is that free things cost the most.
At least, looking on the bright side, Ning reminded himself that he was still alive, and in the grand scheme of things, that was already a tremendous blessing. So, yeah, he was quite chill about it in the end.
Especially since the status reflected uplifted his mood.
The first piece of information that caught his attention was his spiritual roots. He possessed mid-grade spiritual roots, which could be considered a reasonably good aptitude. In the context of the entire sect, he could be regarded as a middle-to-upper-tier talent, offering him a solid foundation upon which to build his cultivation journey.
Five Elemental attributes, as the name suggests, meant that he possessed all five elements: Fire, Water, Wood, Metal, and Earth.
In fact, at the time of joining the sect, his attributes were also tested. He remembered how the elder was quite shocked by his complete five-element attribute. Even going as far as to note that if coupled with a higher-grade aptitude, such a combination could elevate one to the ranks of the top talents.
The reason for such emphasis?
He could learn cultivation techniques from all five elements and succeed in learning them. 'Succeed' is the key point here.
Anyone could attempt to learn techniques from elemental attributes other than their innate ones, but doing so would only serve to hinder their progress. It was a path fraught with obstacles and limitations, hindering their cultivation journey rather than propelling it forward.
If, for example, a cultivator with a fire attribute were to pursue the study of a water attribute technique, their advancement would be minimal at best, and it could even potentially disrupt the delicate balance of their cultivation.
Conversely, when a cultivator dedicated themselves to a technique aligned with their own innate attribute, the results were vastly different. They would not only find it easier to comprehend and assimilate the teachings, but the power and potential unleashed by such a technique would be exponentially greater.
The synergy between the cultivator's innate attribute and the technique would harmonize seamlessly, enabling them to tap into its full might.
It was a widely acknowledged principle that the elemental affinity of a cultivator would shape their chosen path, while their aptitude determined the extent of their progress along that path.
So, his elemental affinity granted Ning a lot of freedom.
And finally, his talent: Extreme Space-Time Sensitivity.
Ning held his own theory regarding the origin of this extraordinary talent. He believed that its existence was intricately tied to his process of transmigration. It was not merely the outcome, but rather the very act of traversing from one plane to another that he suspected had imbued his soul with this exceptional aptitude.
"Of course, this is just a theory, a Film-no, talent theory." Ning mused on his own thoughts.
The realm of the soul was an enigma yet to be unraveled, lying beyond his current reach. Exploring the depths of this unique talent would have to be deferred to a later time when he possessed the necessary knowledge and capabilities.
"It's time to go out."
Since he had already reached the first realm of Qi condensation, it was time to go to the General Affairs hall.
...
Thanks for reading~Last edited: Oct 6, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:Sushiseller, Falcon33, Kukulkan and 485 othersPlumBlossomSep 12, 2025Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks 1.3 A baffling Scene View contentPlumBlossomSloth incarnateSep 12, 2025Add bookmark#19Ning stood before the mirror, gazing at his reflection. It wasn't a matter of vanity or self-admiration, though he couldn't deny that he appeared quite pleasing to the eye but he wanted to do a small experiment.
Looking in front of the mirror, Ning muttered internally, "Status."
A blue panel appeared in front of him, but he paid no heed to it. Instead, his focus was on the mirror itself.
In the mirror was an unassuming, good-looking dude with warm blue eyes and pale skin. Looking at this, Ning heaved a sigh of relief.
The panel was not reflected in the mirror.
While one might assume it was a given that others couldn't perceive the panel, as it was 'his' cheat, Ning was not one to leave things to chance. There were too many uncertainties about this whole thing, so it was a given that he would be extra careful.
Just thinking about the consequences, if they could see the panel he nonchalantly conjured, would be the start of a disaster.
"At least, that's one thing less to worry about." Ning smiled to himself.
With this doubt put to rest, he straightened his posture and made his way toward the exit of the cave. It was a momentous occasion, a defining step in his journey.
"From this day forward, I am a cultivator."
...
Ning briefly covered his eyes, feeling the warm sunlight irritating his eyes. From his memory, he knew that it had been a week since he had holed up inside. Of course, that was not by his own choice.
After being brought to this sect, the elder briefly explained about the sect and then forced the new disciples into their respective caves to cultivate. He warned that one must not leave the cave until one reaches the first stage of Qi cultivation.
For this, the elder had given them both the cultivation technique "Pure Qi Sutra" and a pill called the Fasting pill.
This pill was a magical pill that could provide enough nutrients and energy for the body to last a month. Something like this would have been dubbed a godly medicine in his previous world, but in this world, it was only an extremely ordinary pill.
After walking for a while, Ning suddenly stumbled upon his first real issue in this world.
He was lost.
It could not be blamed on him since no one gave him a tour after entering the sect. Ning looked around, finally spotting a person with grey clothing.
"According to what the elder had said, black robe means inner sect disciple, white means outer sect disciple, green means peripheral disciples and grey means servants," Ning mumbled as he walked towards the servant.
"Hey, excuse me, you with the grey robe," Ning called out to the servant, who suddenly jumped at the call.
Trembling, the servant looked at the caller, then asked with a shaky voice, "H-how can this servant help Lord Cultivator?"
Ning couldn't help but raise a brow, seeing how scared the servant was. The servants were mortals who were taken in by the sect. Their job was to clean, wash clothes, etc., for those overly prideful outer sect disciples who did not want to do it themselves. Servants had no future within the sect and were only there to serve the disciples of the sect.
It may seem harsh, but it was the norm in this world. The weak served the strong, but it was also not entirely without respite. If those servants could learn some techniques, then they could pass them down to their families.
But it seemed bullying was still a problem. With a single glance, Ning could infer that a young guy like him probably got beaten by the outer sect disciples with bad tempers.
Ning calmed down the young lad before asking the way to the General Affairs Hall. Seeing this, the servant finally seemed relieved and pointed towards the center of the outer sect.
"Thanks." Patting the young lad gently, Ning thanked him with a smile. It seemed to surprise the poor servant.
"I-it's my honor." Though surprised, the poor servant quickly replied and ran off, thanking his lucky stars for not running into those bullies.
Seeing this, Ning smiled.
It may seem unnecessary to be polite to the servant, but he did not mind. He did not have a huge enough ego to care about such a thing.
This was a world of cultivation; a servant today may become a great cultivator in the future with a single stroke of luck.
While the chances were infinitely low, it was still present. And in the memory of 'Ji Ning' there were some accomplished martial artist who killed of someone just because they looked at him wrong.
If even mortal martial artists are like that, he didn't dare imagine what a cultivator would take offense at.
Politeness was a virtue. Ning didn't mind abiding by it, especially since it cost him nothing for his lip service.
Thinking like this, Ning walked toward the General Affairs Hall leisurely but stopped in front of the Hall because he saw something interesting.
There was a small crowd in front of him, which Ning slowly approached.
"Xiao Fan, why didn't you pay us your protection fee? Are you disrespecting brother, Xiao Hong, huh?" A tall figure shouted at the top of his lungs, accusing a young man.
"Being the lackey of Xiao Hong must be fun for you? I don't want to pay your protection fee," the young man said defiantly.
Feeling angry, the tall man shouted, "It seems that you have forgotten the previous beating." Saying that the tall man jumped forward and kicked the young man.
Clutching his stomach, the young man seemed in pain, yet he still seemed determined.
Then finally, he shouted, "You may be stronger than me now, but remember this: Don't bully the young and poor. I will come for you eventually."
Seeing the scene in front of him, Ning's eyes darkened as an arc formed on his lips.
Things seemed to have gotten even more interesting~
...
Thanks for reading~Last edited: Oct 7, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:Sushiseller, Falcon33, Kukulkan and 468 othersPlumBlossomSep 12, 2025Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks 1.4 Farm View contentPlumBlossomSloth incarnateSep 12, 2025Add bookmark#21Looking at the youth who seemed to exude an aura of determination to go against the world, Ning paused for a moment. He had a rather strong impression of the youth.
Of course, that impression originated from the original 'Ji Ning'.
From his memories, Ning recalled Xiao Fan, who belonged to the same group as him and had caused quite a stir during the spiritual root assessment ceremony.
Yet, it wasn't Xiao Fan's exceptional talent that captivated everyone's attention; rather, it was his lack thereof.
Hailing from a family of cultivators, Xiao Fan possessed only a low-grade spiritual root. In contrast, his cousin, who underwent the same test, displayed high-grade spiritual roots. Throughout the ceremony, Xiao Fan became the subject of mockery, both from onlookers and even his own cousin.
Even the original 'Ji Ning' couldn't escape the irrational contempt he held towards Xiao Fan at the time.
And now, as Ning observed the fallen youth, he witnessed the absence of pity or concern from the crowd. Instead, degrading murmurs filled the air: "So arrogant," "He needs a reality check," "How can a dragon father give birth to such a pig of a son?"
All those classic xianxia insults...
Immersed in the unfolding scene, Ning couldn't help but experience a sense of déjà vu. It was as if the cultivation novels he had devoured in his previous life were coming to life before his very eyes.
"Is this guy a protagonist?" Ning mumbled inwardly.
A young man with seemingly no talent, despised and loathed by others, yet destined to encounter fortuitous events and embark on a journey of slaying gods and demons while surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women, this was the standard template for a protagonist.
"Moreover, this guy's surname is Xiao... does he have a grandpa with him too?" Ning's eyes narrowed, intrigued by the possibility.
Of course, this single incident alone wasn't sufficient evidence to confirm Xiao Fan's status as a protagonist. However, amidst the commotion, something crucial seemed to have slipped the minds of everyone present.
Xiao Fan had emerged from seclusion.
This fact carried profound implications. After all, Ning himself, possessing a mid-grade spiritual root, had only reached the first stage of Qi Condensation the day before. Yet here stood Xiao Fan, with his low-grade spiritual root, achieving a similar level of cultivation speed.
This indicated that Xiao Fan possessed a secret, something beyond mere talent, allowing him to cultivate at such an extraordinary pace.
Moreover, the crowd's irrational anger towards Xiao Fan was exacerbated by his unwavering attitude, as if they expected him to admit he was trash or something.
Ning had mixed feelings as he watched the scene unfold, where everyone seemed to be deliberately provoking the protagonist. Such a situation made him experience a subtle emotion.
However, Ning had no inclination to intervene. He didn't possess a 'hero' complex, and he was fully aware of his own circumstances. Unlike the protagonist before him, he was weak and lacked support.
Any attempt to assist Xiao Fan would likely only exacerbate the situation. Thus, Ning chose to distance himself from the scene, walking away slowly.
No one paid him any attention, as if he were transparent, a fact that suited him just fine.
"If I hadn't transmigrated, would 'I' have acted similarly? If that's the case, then it's truly terrifying," Ning mused, casting a glance back at the ongoing events.
...
With such thoughts, Ning quickly walked towards the General Affairs Hall. It was a large building, built in a style reminiscent of the eastern Chinese architecture dramas.
There seemed to be a small waitlist, as other people were also waiting to get entry.
With not much to do, Ning glance at a large calligraphy scroll hung on the wall. The bold strokes seemed alive, each brush mark carrying a force that resonated in his chest. Without meaning to, Ning found his gaze locked upon the characters.
The longer he stared, the more the black ink seemed to ripple. His vision blurred. A throb pulsed behind his temples.
"-Careful."
Ning jerked, tearing his gaze away. He rubbed his forehead and blinked rapidly.
Three figures approached, robes of fresh green marking them as fellow initiates. The tallest, calm-eyed and composed, inclined his head slightly.
"That scroll is infused with the sect's qi," he explained. "Those without sufficient cultivation shouldn't gaze at it directly."
Ning let out a soft laugh, rubbing his temple. "So it wasn't just me, then. Good to know that just staring at the wall wasn't making me dizzy."
Ning'd never expected wall décor to attack him. He needs to be more careful.
His answer made the corner of one of the two boys' mouths twitch into a grin, while even the aloof girl's eyes flickered with the hint of amusement.
Then, they introduced themselves. The tall youth cupped his hands politely. "Wei Zhusang, of the Wei family."
The second, broad-shouldered and smiling easily, followed. "Zhang Feng, Zhang family."
The last was a girl, her bearing sharper than the other two, her eyes cool and precise. "Lang Rulang, Lang family."
Relying on those memories, Ning mirrored the gesture with practiced smoothness. "Ning. Ji Ning."
Their eyes lit up at the name. Recognition. Ning's eyes narrrowed.
"So you're the one with the five-element aptitude," Zhang Feng said, laughter in his voice. "I'd been wondering who it was."
Wei Zhusang nodded. "At the test, I thought the elder must have been mistaken. Five elements is rare, more so than the high grade spiritual root."
Lang Rulang's voice cut in, cool but blunt. "A pity yours is only mid-grade."
"Rulang! That's rude," Wei said sharply, frowning at her.
Ning lifted a hand lightly, his smile easy. "It's fine. She didn't mean harm. Besides, jade is still jade, even if it isn't gold."
That disarmed the moment. Even Rulang's eyes softened a fraction, though she only gave the faintest huff.
Zhang Feng broke the silence with a hearty laugh. "Well said, Brother Ning! Then we're all the same here, new disciples, peripheral rank."
Ning tilted his head, voice mild, almost curious. "Since you all come from cultivation families… perhaps you could enlighten me. What does that actually mean for us?"
Wei Zhusang folded his arms, his tone calm but precise. "The sect gives peripheral disciples work assignments. Menial, sometimes random, but necessary for the running of the grounds. If we prove ourselves, we can rise to outer sect status."
"And to do that," Lang Rulang added, "we need to reach the fourth stage of Qi Condensation. That's the threshold."
Ning raised a brow. "That sounds… steep."
Zhang Feng grinned. "For those with low-grade roots, it is steep. Some will never see the fourth stage. But with mid-grade roots, it's different." He patted his chest proudly. "All three of us possess mid-grade spiritual roots. The Wei and Lang families wouldn't let their juniors leave home without at least that much."
"You don't need to worry too much, since you also have the same spiritual root as us." Lang Rulang spoke coolly.
'It seems while five element attribute is rare, it's not something that would raise envy. After all, they all have similar roots, and have even greater origin than me.' Ning's thought turned quickly, listening to the softer tone of his new 'fellow daoists'.
Their conversation turned more casual as they waited. They spoke of sect life, of how some peripheral disciples were assigned to kitchens, stables, or menial guard duties. "The sect doesn't care where you start," Wei Zhusang said, "only where you reach."
Finally, a disciple inside called a name. One by one, the three were summoned into the hall, their figures swallowed by the doorway.
When Ning's turn came last, he stepped forward in caution, not wanting to get inexplicably attacked again.
Inside, an elder sat behind a desk, his presence quiet but oppressive. The elder's eyes swept over Ning, then the jade slip recording his aptitude.
"Mid-grade, five elements." The elder nodded faintly. "Good foundation. You will begin in spiritual farming. You take this jade slip and go to sector 3, near the Fushan river."
Ning bowed. "Yes, Elder."
As he straightened, his thoughts drifted.
So much for sword flights and demon hunts. I've transmigrated into a xianxia world… only to start as a glorified gardener. Oh well, at least there will be hoes.
...
A/N: Obviously, not that kind of hoes...
Thanks for reading~ Like ReplyReport Reactions:Sushiseller, Dhjeeyn, Falcon33 and 566 othersPlumBlossomSep 12, 2025Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks 1.5 Mutual Aid Association New View contentPlumBlossomSloth incarnateSep 13, 2025Add bookmark#33Watching Ning disappear into the hall, the three disciples lingered at the entrance, speaking in low tones.
Zhang Feng cleared his throat first. "Once we enter, we'll likely be scattered into different assignments. Meeting again might not be easy."
Wei Zhusang nodded. "That's true. Which is why I'm planning to form an association, something to gather us together."
Lang Rulang arched a brow. "Was that your idea, or aunt's?"
The three of them had grown up together, children of families with foundation-establishment elders, even tied by in-laws. They knew each other too well to bother with pretenses.
Wei gave a small smile. "My mother suggested it. She said that even though our talent is among the best in our families, mid-grade roots won't let us skip ranks. Only high-grade roots can enter the outer sect directly. So, we need to rely on unity."
Zhang Feng's voice grew louder, tinged with annoyance. "Hah! I still don't know what damned fortune the Xiao family stumbled upon, producing not just Xiao Han with a high-grade root, but even that so-called top-tier prodigy…"
Rulang's expression sharpened. "Spiritual roots aren't everything. Given time, we can catch up."
Wei Zhusang inclined his head. "Exactly. That's why this association matters. And I don't plan to limit it to just us three."
Zhang Feng blinked. "You mean Brother Ning?"
"Mm." Wei's tone was even. "He has an aptitude like ours, perhaps even better. His temperament seems steady, and most importantly, he has no backing. A descendant of mortals. That makes him… approachable. If we draw him in now, he may prove a reliable ally."
Zhang Feng nodded. "He does seem like a good fit."
Both boys turned toward Lang Rulang.
She huffed. "Recruit whomever you like. I don't care. At least he seems… well-natured enough."
Zhang Feng chuckled. "If he weren't, he'd have taken offense at your sharp tongue already."
Wei laughed softly, while Rulang shot Zhang Feng a glare sharp enough to silence him. He coughed and looked away.
At that moment, Ning emerged from the hall, a jade slip in hand. His steps were unhurried, his smile easy.
"I walked in on something, didn't I?" he teased lightly.
"Hmph." Rulang turned away, while the two boys only laughed.
"It's nothing," Wei said quickly, patting Ning's arm. "Brother Ning, what task did they assign you?"
"Spiritual farming," Ning answered. "What about you three?"
"Weapons refining," Wei said.
"Weapons refining as well," Zhang added.
After a pause, Rulang spoke coolly. "Talismans."
Ning's brow rose slightly. Just by the name, they were clearly in much better workplace environment than him, "So it's not random, then."
Wei and Zhang glanced aside, while Rulang answered bluntly, "Some disciples give offerings to the elders. That way, they avoid the less desirable jobs."
Ning fell silent. His purse, after all, was like an onion, opening it only brought tears.
Sensing his mood, Zhang spoke up cheerfully. "Don't worry, Brother Ning. Farming's not the worst. It's far better than woodcutting… or taking honey from silverback bees. Their sting can cripple a man for months!"
Wei nodded in agreement. "Yes. Farming can even bring certain advantages if done well."
Rulang let out a quiet huff, but didn't contradict them.
Ning smiled faintly. "I'm not worried. Where there are people, there are practices. The good positions will always go to those with the coin to claim them. No need to fuss over it."
He shifted the topic with ease. "So then, what were you three discussing just now?"
Wei Zhusang's tone grew earnest. "Cultivation rests on Dharma, companions, wealth, and land. We all come from Blue Flame City, and now that we've entered the sect, we should support one another. I was thinking we could meet once a month, exchange knowledge, and lend aid where needed."
Ning considered it. "Makes sense. A single thread can't make a line, and a lone tree can't make a forest. Cultivation isn't something achieved in isolation." He gave a small nod. "I'll join."
Wei's eyes brightened. "Good. And in time, I'd like to expand this into a proper association, not just us three."
"That sounds wise," Ning agreed with a smile. His thoughts, however, turned inward. It seems not every family disciple is brainless like those confronting with Xiao Fan. With better upbringing, they've been surely given a better education.
Though, perhaps the earlier nonsense was just the protagonist's halo at work…
Wei looked around at them, eyes glinting. "Then let's call it the Mutual Aid Foundation."
...
The jade slip sat cool in Ning's palm. A faint thread of silver light sparked to life the moment he fed a wisp of qi into it, unraveling into a glowing line that stretched into the distance. His own personal guidepost, pointing the way toward his assigned "spiritual farming" grounds.
Convenient. At least he wouldn't have to wander around the sect looking like a lost chick. He had enough sight seeing as of now.
Still, Ning's mind replayed Wei Zhusang's earlier words: Dharma, wealth, companions, land.
The phrase summarized the prerequisite to succeed in cultivation. And Ning was not one to simply ignore it. After all, it was checklist that he would eventualy have to fill.
"Dharma, must mean the cultivatic technique, magic and martial arts." Ning mumbled inwardly, pondering.
Dharma referred to the path, the arts, the knowledge. For now, this was one of least of his concern, if his sect was strong enough to cultivate a Golden Core Patriarch, it had to have more than a few techniques tucked away. He'd just have to dig carefully.
"As for companion, it seemed to have been solved already." Ning ticked of another one of the checklist.
Companions. Allies, rivals, friends, the difference often blurred. The three earlier had surprised him by treating him with courtesy, even warmth, once they'd learned of his aptitude. In a world where backstabbing seemed to be a cultural pastime, that almost counted as generosity. If banding together kept knives out of his back, he'd gladly play the affable brother.
"And land must mean the blessed land with spiritual veins." Ning pondered.
While, 'Ji Ning' was unaware of such things, the previous talk with his now fellow daoists has made him aware of that.
Spiritual veins. Blessed earth where qi pooled like water, nourishing herbs and cultivators alike. The true prize every disciple longed for. And, naturally, every worthwhile patch was already claimed by someone stronger, richer, or with better connections. Which explained why he was walking toward a farming assignment instead of a spiritual rich environment like Talisman Refining and Weapon Refining Halls.
"This problem should be solved with increase in cultivation. Anyway, for a noob like me, any piece of land in this sect would be enough." Ning crossed another point.
Then, finally, the bane of his existence. Money or as they call it here spiritual stones
"This one is going to be a problem." Ning thought, walking past his fellow disciples as transparently as possible.
Wealth. The lifeblood of cultivation. Spirit stones, pills, artifacts, resources he currently had in precisely zero supply. He almost snorted at the memory of Lang Rulang's jab. Then again, she was not wrong, if he wanted to succeed, he would have to eventually acquire some of it.
"I can only hope farming pays better than it sounds," Ning muttered, slipping through the crowd. Not far enough to stray from the crowd, nor close enough to bump into anyone. Perfectly balanced as all things should be.
Then he chuckled under his breath. "Dharma, wealth, companions, land. Really, it's just the four food groups of cultivation. Keep a balanced diet, or starve."
...
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Ning eventually reached Sector 3. Contrary to his expectations, it was not a courtyard or a cluster of buildings, but an entire valley - and not a small one either. From a single glance, he could see rows of farmland stretching across acres, with sect buildings tucked neatly along the slopes.
'This sect covers more area than I thought', Ning realized, shaking his head. His way of thinking still hadn't fully adjusted. Just one "sector" alone contained a whole valley… and that was only Sector 3. With a numbering system in place, it was easy to guess there were many more.
"Ah, the cliché of expansion," Ning sighed inwardly.
It was practically a rule: the moment anything involved qi, cultivation, or magic, the world itself would inflate to extravagant sizes. Mountains became continents, valleys became provinces, and "walking distance" turned into a half-day marathon.
Alas, such was the price of worldbuilding. So, Ning added another task to his growing list of priorities:
learn the geography of his surroundings.
The old Ji Ning had been nothing more than a countryside bumpkin. And in a sense, so was the current him. All he truly knew was that the sect he'd joined was called the Pure Qi Sect, and that its strongest cultivator was a Golden Core Patriarch.
The sect's territory supposedly spanned hundreds, perhaps even thousands of miles… yet that was considered small on the scale of the entire continent. And compared to the world at large, it was little more than a speck.
'They say everything is bigger in a cultivation world. Turns out that wasn't a lie.'
Ning didn't even want to begin unraveling the absurdities of physics in this plane of existence. Space stretched unnaturally, valleys spanned for miles without breaking, and mountains scraped the clouds without collapsing under their own weight.
He could already guess the answer to all of it. Qi. Always qi. Or "spiritual energy" if one wanted to talk in scientific terms.
Shaking his head, Ning soon arrived at a managerial post built into the hillside. The building looked modest enough, but he deliberately kept his eyes down, careful not to stare too long at the paintings or calligraphy displayed near the entrance.
He had already learned that lesson.
Inside, a man with a small belly was lounging behind a desk.
"Hello, I was assigned here," Ning mumbled, handing over the jade slip the elder had given him.
"You must be one of the newcomers this year," the man said, standing up and puffing out his chest as though to hide his belly. "Name's Fang Zhu. Steward of this sector."
Ning inclined his head politely. "Ning. Ji Ning. Pleasure."
"Yeah, yeah," Fang Zhu waved a hand, clearly unbothered by formality. "Come on, we'll get you registered first."
The procedure was quick, Fang Zhu moving with the speed of someone who'd clearly done this dozens of times. When finished, he tossed a few items toward Ning.
"These are the essentials for newcomers. Each hall issues different ones. You've received the Pure Qi Sutra and the Small Cloud Rain Technique.
"You've probably used the Sutra already when inhaling qi, but that was just the introduction. This copy will carry you through to the late stage of Qi Refining. As for the Cloud Rain Technique, it's a basic spell for spiritual farmers. Only the first two levels are provided, enough to last until you hit the third realm.
"The jade slips also contain the sect rules. Review them carefully when you return."
Ning accepted the jade slips with a bitter grin.
'Spiritual farming was one thing, but not even a single offensive spell? Wonderful.'
NIng bowed politely. "Excuse me, Senior Brother, where can one go to learn more techniques or spells?"
Fang Zhu waved dismissively. "We're brothers here, drop the 'senior.' Everything you need is in the jade slips. For now, I'll take you to your farming plot."
As they walked, Fang Zhu filled the silence with chatter. Along the way, Ning learned a troubling fact:
Disciples who failed to reach the mid-stage of Qi Refining within three years couldn't even qualify as outer sect disciples.
Fang Zhu noticed Ning's silence and flashed him a half-smile. "By the way, I specialize in buying low and selling high. If you ever need resources, or just want a good deal, you let me know."
Ning nodded well-behaved, but his thoughts were anything but.
Ah yes, the mandatory shady merchant archetype has arrived right on schedule.
They soon arrived at a modest wooden hut tucked between two hills. An old man sat outside, qi faintly rippling around him as he inspected herbs. His eyes lifted lazily as they approached.
"Ah, a newcomer," Old Zhou said, his low voice laid back. "I see you've already reached the first level. Not many manage that speed this year."
Ning inclined his head, biting back a groan. Fantastic. Privacy clearly doesn't exist.
"Old Zhou, you'll be responsible for guiding Junior Brother Ning," Fang Zhu announced.
Old Zhou nodded, then cracked one eye open a little wider. "I know. You can leave now."
Fang Zhu clutched his chest like he'd been stabbed. "Leave? I'm your only friend, and you treat me like this?"
Old Zhou snorted. "Don't play dumb. I know the real reason you've been hanging around."
Fang Zhu blinked innocently, though the bulge of his belly betrayed him. "And what reason would that be?"
"You're just here to freeload another meal," Old Zhou said flatly.
Fang Zhu straightened, face full of righteous indignation. "Nonsense! I only stayed so Junior Brother Ning wouldn't feel awkward. As the elder here, isn't it your duty to host a proper welcoming meal?"
"Ignore him." Old Zhou let out another snort, then glanced at Ning. "Still, he's not wrong. We'll be neighbors for years. A little courtesy won't kill me."
"Ha! Knew it!" Fang Zhu cheered triumphantly.
Ning smiled at the exchange. At least his new 'fellow daoists' seemed easygoing. Of course, there was always a chance this was just for show. So, while he remained cautious, he wasn't full-on paranoid.
Fudge. No wonder I couldn't be Batman, Ning thought dryly.
After all, he wasn't the protagonist of some xianxia novel, where every meeting devolved into face-slapping theatrics.
Soon, Old Zhou prepared a simple meal. Ning took the initiative to help, while Fang Zhu set up a table and chairs beneath a tree. Once the dishes were ready, Old Zhou lit a lamp and cracked open a wine jar, the fragrance spilling into the night air.
Fang Zhu proved to be a natural talker, Ning an attentive listener, and even Old Zhou loosened up after a few cups.
With the atmosphere so warm, Ning seized the chance to ask questions. After all, he was still a complete noob. The fastest way to survive was to imitate the pros.
"Cultivation isn't easy," Fang Zhu said gravely. "Even joining a sect is like walking on thin ice. I'm no master of arts or spells, so I make my way with business, buying low, selling high, running errands. If you need something hard to find, I can track it down."
Old Zhou snorted. "Just be careful, he is a bit greedy."
"Hey!" Fang Zhu shouted.
"I'll remember that," Ning said, carefully avoiding the wine cup. He still didn't know his tolerance and wasn't about to embarrass himself on day one.
Then he leaned forward. "So… about spiritual farming?"
Old Zhou put his cup down. "One of the hundred professions of cultivation. Necessary, but far from glamorous. For people like us, low realm, shallow techniques, it's basically one of the worst draw. First-level spiritual grain only. Natural disasters, pests, birds, beasts… and our weak spells mean the harvest barely covers expenses."
Ning frowned. "That rough?"
"Worse." Old Zhou's tone darkened. "Seventy-five percent goes to the sect. You'll curse it every harvest, but you'll still hand it over."
"Seventy-five percent?" Ning's eyes widened. This time, his shock was genuine.
Fudge. That's dark. No wonder no one lines up for this job.
Fang Zhu cut in smoothly. "Sounds bad, sure. But remember, the sect provides the land, seeds, formations, even the spells. Without that, you'd have nothing."
Ning exhaled slowly, calming down. He'd seen interns in his past, plenty of work, no pay, and a boss who claimed "experience" was the real salary. Compared to that, this wasn't so foreign.
After all, the sect wasn't family. The sect was an employer.
Old Zhou raised his cup. "Don't be disheartened. Compared to casual cultivators outside, who pay eighty-five percent and only lease their fields, you've got the better deal."
"I know." Ning sighed, then straightened with a grin. "After all, no sword gleams without countless strikes at the whetstone. I just need to keep at it."
Fang Zhu's eyes lit up. "Now that's a line. I should write that down."
Old Zhou chuckled. "Not bad, Junior Brother. And it's not without perks. You're exempt from missions for a full year. That time is yours, master your technique, make your field productive."
Ning nodded slowly, letting it sink in. A whole year without interruptions… Ah! Yes just the silver lining I need.
...
Thanks for reading~Last edited: Sep 18, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:Kukulkan, Dio Black, darkli4n and 486 othersPlumBlossomSep 15, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Changes in the panel 1.7 New View contentPlumBlossomSloth incarnateSep 17, 2025Add bookmark#44Ning quickly settled into his new residence: a humble hut beside his ten acres of land.
Inside, he found a bed, a cupboard, a small kitchen, and even a bathroom. All the basics were there, though technically, they weren't his. They were hand-me-downs from whoever had lived here last.
"Thankfully, the servant cleaned the place and replaced the covers and blanket." Ning didn't want to imagine the alternative.
Who knew what kind of cultivator had stayed here before? Maybe the guy failed a breakthrough and exploded. Or worse, Ning shuddered, it could've been unwashed socks.
He didn't have much faith in the hygiene standards of teenagers in medieval fantasy worlds.
The cupboard was next. Empty, of course. No hidden manuals, no surprise snacks, not even a forgotten copper coin. Truly, the inheritance of the ages.
The kitchen wasn't much better: one pot, one ladle, and a stove that looked like it might explode the next time it saw firewood. He was saying a common theme here.
"Well, at least Fang Zhu promised three months of rations."
In fact, there was a reason for the genrosity.
Beginners were advised against eating mortal food during qi cultivation. Something about turbid qi… or impurity. Either way, free food. Yay.
Still, it was a roof over his head. And unlike Earth, rent was zero. Well, zero if you didn't count back-breaking labor and giving seventy-five percent of your harvest to the sect. A bargain, really.
After a quick bath, Ning collapsed onto the bed. He considered himself an introvert at heart, and one day of moving, talking, and meeting new people had already shredded his mental stamina.
"Alright, plans for the future," he muttered. "Step one, survive. Step two, improve cultivation. Step three, learn farming."
The bed creaked ominously as he rolled onto his side. Ning frowned. "Step four, reinforce the furniture before it murders me in my sleep."
With that, he closed his eyes and drifted off into his favorite type of relationship. Death without commitment. He slept.
...
In the morning light, Ning stood bare-chested, his skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. He sank into a horse stance, rooting himself to the ground before driving his fists forward with sharp, echoing cracks.
After a grueling session, he finally stopped, muscles burning and chest heaving.
[Panel]
[Name: Ji Ning
Spiritual Root: Mid-grade Spiritual Root
Attributes: Five Elemental Attributes
Talent: Extreme Space-Time Sensitivity
Realm: 1st Stage of Qi Condensation (Consolidated)
Cultivation Method: Pure Qi Sutra (1st floor: 1/100)
Martial Arts: Bone Forging Fist (Starting: 99/100 → Small Accomplishment 1/200), Shadow Steps (Starting: 99/100)]
The panel had grown more detailed than before. Seeing his effort reduced to neat numbers filled Ning with unexpected satisfaction.
"The panel evolves on its own… but this change, " his lips twitched.
It looked less like something out of a cultivation world and more like the RPG stat screens he used to grind back on Earth. Except now, he was the one inside it. For a moment his gaze sharpened, then he sighed. "Still no clue."
Practicality won out. Cause or mystery, it worked in his favor. Progress he could measure was progress he could chase.
In a world where most people gave up before noticing results, he had proof in digits, motivation in hard numbers.
When his eyes lingered on the Bone Forging Fist and Shadow Steps, his lips curved faintly. Both teetered on the edge of breakthrough.
The original Ji Ning had ground away at these arts for years, hamstrung only by a lack of cultivation. Now, with even a thread of Qi to fuel them, that foundation surged forward.
"I really benefitted from 'Ji Ning.'" Ning couldn't help but say.
Despite being starved of Qi, the boy had never slacked, drilling every day. That stubborn effort had turned into Ning's sudden leaps.
Still, Ning realized he kept thinking of the former owner of this body as the "previous Ning." But the truth was, he was Ning now. Perhaps the two had merged, though it was clear the otherworlder's personality had taken the lead. One more mystery to unravel.
"I'm Ning no more, but at the same time, I have gone even further beyond," Ning said, raising my hand in the empty room.
...Great, now he feels stupid.
The mirror didn't laugh back, only showed a lean, sharp-eyed boy with muscle shaped by diligence. Bone Forging Fist had not only hardened his strikes but tempered his frame like forged steel. Each step meant more power, more resilience.
"Good thing too," he said, flexing once. "Farming's still muscle work."
After replenishing his Qi, Ning pressed the jade slip of sect rules to his forehead.
Respect elders. Obey orders. Don't trespass on forbidden grounds. No duels without cause. Theft and desertion are punished by death.
Straightforward enough. But the phrasing was uneven, absolute in some lines, vague in others.
Classic. A rule's only as strict as the one enforcing it.
Back on Earth, he'd learned early: the first step in surviving any system was memorizing its rulebook. Not to follow it blindly, but to see where the boundaries bent. If you knew the limits, you also knew how far you could push before the rope snapped.
He exhaled. Same principle here. Keep your head down, learn the cracks, and move inside them.
Setting the slip aside, he brought out the Pure Qi Sutra.
Like any sect method, it promised unique features. Practiced to its peak, it was said to not only refine Qi but purge one's marrow of impurities. Few reached that height, but its real strength was in what most disciples could grasp, purer Qi, longer endurance.
That suited Ning just fine. The purer his Qi, the longer he could drill martial arts before running dry. He liked that.
Crossing his legs, he closed his eyes and began breathing slow and deep. Spiritual energy trickled into his body, flowing through his meridians, refined at last into true Qi within his dantian.
It was smooth enough, until the ache set in. His meridians throbbed faintly, protesting the strain.
A beginner's limit. One hour at most, then rest. Push further and efficiency dropped sharply. Extended cultivation was a luxury of the higher realms, even most Foundation Establishment disciples couldn't afford long retreats.
When at last he opened his eyes, sweat cooling on his brow, Ning whispered to himself, "One step at a time."
...
For the next two days, Ning barely left his courtyard. The sect called it an "adjustment period," but he treated it like boot camp. No sightseeing, no socializing, just Qi cultivation and Bone Forging Fist.
Everything else was irrelevant.
"Today, farming," he muttered, shaking his head at the absurdity of it.
Morning light spilled over the valley like molten gold. Ning rose from his cushion, frowning.
Practice had gone smoothly, until the end, when a faint burning traced his immortal veins. His body felt heavier than last night.
'What went wrong?' He frowned, settling into thought.
By the lake, Old Zhou finished his morning routine. He kept the fish he had caught in the bucket. Humming a tune, he strolled past Ning's courtyard.
"Xiao Ning, daydreaming again? Come, I'll show you how to tend spiritual grain this morning."
"Xiao Ning?" Ning blinked. The form of address still felt strange to him, but it usually signaled friendliness. Best not to fuss over it.
So, he bowing quickly. "I was thinking over a cultivation issue and didn't hear you approach. Forgive me. I'll prepare breakfast and then join you."
"Did you feel uncomfortable while cultivating?" Old Zhou asked knowingly.
Ning blinked.
Old Zhou gave him a small smile. "I know what you're worrying about. The Pure Qi Sutra is balanced. It's not the method, it's your timing."
Ning raised an eyebrow. Timing?
"When the sun rises, fire energy surges. A novice's meridians can't handle that heat. At night, yin power peaks. Too cold for your stage. Either way, you risk injury."
He added, "Cultivation relies on Dharma, companions, wealth, and land. Without guidance, you'd spend years wandering blind."
Ning bowed again, relieved. "Thank you, Senior Brother for clarifying."
"Just common sense," Zhou said with a wave. "The Foundation Establishment masters will lecture the new disciples in a few days. The General Affairs Hall will announce the time."
Ning thanked him once more, sighing inwardly. If even the basics weren't on the jade slips, the sect's intent was obvious: authority, not prevention.
Soon, after a quick breakfast of veggie over rice, Ning quickly met Old Zhou.
"Here, you will be working with this." Old Zhou spoke in a laidback fashion. He was wearing a large straw hat to block out the sun.
Three things were laid out before him.
A shovel, hoe, and rake.
Ning looked at the tools and then at the overgrown spiritual field. His imagined grandeur of cultivation faltered.
"Brother Zhou," he said, a touch disappointed, "are we really using farm tools for this? Didn't you say this field was harvested five or six days ago? How are the weeds already this tall?"
Old Zhou had already explained the process: weed first, dig with the shovel, level with the hoe and rake, then plant the seeds. Magical implements or not, it still looked like ordinary farming.
"You don't understand, Xiao Ning." Zhou shook his head, calm and patient. "These fields are full of spiritual energy. Once a weed takes root, it grows this fast. Completely normal."
He tapped the tools. "And you're only at the first stage of Qi Refining. You haven't mastered spellwork. These tools are transitional. Once your magic improves, you'll never need to do this by hand again."
Ning looked at the long, overgrown weed and could only agree.
"Well, here's hoping cultivation can cure back pain."
...
Thanks for reading~ Like ReplyReport Reactions:Kukulkan, Dio Black, darkli4n and 469 othersPlumBlossomSep 17, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Farming Simulator 101 1.8 New View contentPlumBlossomSloth incarnateSep 18, 2025Add bookmark#52Ning walked over to Old Zhou's farm. To his surprise, it wasn't any bigger than his own.
Huh. I thought the old guy would have at least double the land. Isn't that how it usually goes? Veteran farmer, big territory. Rookie, tiny patch. Guess clichés are broken today.
"Senior Brother," Ning said, glancing around. "Why do you only plant as much as me? There's still unclaimed land over there."
By his logic, plant more, earn more. Bigger field, bigger profits. Stonks for the win. So, this did catch him off guard.
Old Zhou chuckled. "Plant more? Xiao Ning, ten acres is already enough to kill me. Spiritual grain sounds simple, three months to maturity, sure, but after the second month it starts demanding spiritual rain every day. Ten acres will eat a chunk of my mana daily. A sixth-level Qi Refining cultivator like me can manage it, but barely."
He waved toward the empty plots. "And that's not even the worst part. To make the grain grow properly, you've got to use the Withering and Flourishing Technique, suck Wood-element energy from weeds and other plants to feed your crops. Otherwise, your harvest will look like shriveled rice husks."
His expression turned sour. "Then come the pests. Birds, insects, rats, even wild spirit beasts sometimes. You'll be casting extermination spells every day if you don't want your field turned into a buffet."
Ning blinked.
"And of course," Zhou continued, "all seeds must be bought from the sect's Spiritual Farming Pavilion. No cheap alternatives, no shortcuts. Then there's rent, General Affairs Hall takes its cut, always on time. On top of that, every cultivator above fourth-level Qi Refining still has mandatory missions to complete."
He sighed deeply. "So yes, I could plant more. And I would lose my shirt doing it."
Ning nodded slowly as the picture came together.
Right. Bigger field means bigger expenses, more mana drain, more pests, more obligations. The sect squeezes you from one end, heaven and earth squeeze you from the other. Fudge! Farming is just capitalism with extra steps.
Still, he had to admit it made sense. The fields fed the entire sect. Lower ranks bore the burden, so the upper ranks could cultivate in peace.
Damn. Why does this sound just like my homeland?
"Enough depressing talk." Old Zhou rested his hands on his hips. "Before we continue with fieldwork, there's one spell you must understand: the Small Cloud Rain Technique. Simple in form, indispensable in practice. You should've read about it."
Ning nodded. It was, after all, the only spell the sect had given him.
"I have. Though I haven't practiced it yet, as you suggested."
"Good. This technique leans heavily on spiritual energy. I warned you not to waste strength before consolidating your cultivation." Zhou formed a series of seals.
A cloud swirled into existence overhead, and rain pattered down.
Fudge. Now this is what I call magic.
"This is amazing," Ning breathed.
He knew, theoretically, that immortals could split the sky with their will, but seeing rain appear from nothing with just a few hand-seals was another thing entirely.
Catching Ning's wide-eyed look, Old Zhou laughed. "I've practiced this technique for fifty years and only barely reached great success. Unfortunately, I lack the right attribute, otherwise it wouldn't have been so hard."
Despite his words, pride gleamed in his eyes.
Ning couldn't even blame him. The thought of summoning rain in his previous life was mind-blowing. That was practically god-tier stuff.
Here, it was only the beginning.
"Senior Brother, your spells are profound. I admire you."
Ning set his hoe aside and clapped with enthusiasm, perfectly playing the role of flattering junior. After all, praise was free, why not cheer up the old man while he was at it?
Old Zhou smiled as expected. "The reason this spell matters so much is that rainwater contains spiritual energy, which promotes the growth of grains and herbs. Without it, yields drop significantly, and pests thrive. This is the cornerstone of spiritual farming."
"So how does it work?" Ning asked.
"Spiritual rain draws on a source of energy," Zhou explained. "All of Sector Three sits atop a great farming formation. When you use the technique, you're not pulling water from thin air, you're channeling energy the formation has already gathered, shaping clouds at the right moment so they release qi-rich rain."
"I see." Ning nodded. It was practical enough for daily use, vague enough to dodge questions about the deeper mechanics. Classic cultivator style.
Of course, he wasn't satisfied. Formations tapping ambient energy, weather manipulation, irrigation systems, there had to be whole layers of theory behind it. But old Zhou probably didn't know them.
"Next, let's talk about the Scorching Purge spell." Zhou shifted smoothly into his next lesson.
"Scorching Purge?" Ning blinked. Sounds like something you'd use to exorcise demons, not farm.
Zhou grinned at his reaction. "Startling name, isn't it? Since you haven't gone to the Scripture Pavilion yet, it must sound strange. In essence, it's just a simple fire-element spell."
He changed hand-seals, and an orange-red glow spread across the field like sunset. Green smoke rose as weeds shriveled to ash. Ning dug at the soil and found even the roots had been reduced to cinders.
"Awesome!" Ning was astounded a second time. Not just at the spell itself, but at the sheer labor it saved. No more backbreaking weeding. Good riddance, you fast-as-hell growing weeds.
"Why didn't I get this spell, Senior Brother?"
"Because spells are hard to master," Zhou replied, noting the hunger in Ning's eyes. "You only get the rain technique first. After you reach minor success with it, you can petition Fang Zhu for more."
"I see. Then I'll do my best." Ning's eyes shone with resolve. He was ready to grind the hell out of the rain spell.
Zhou nodded and went on. "The Scorching Purge mantra not only clears weeds, it incinerates insects and turns them into fertilizer. Killing two birds with one stone. In time, you'll discover other uses too."
He paused to sip water before continuing. "Another problem is uneven qi distribution. Some places accumulate excess spiritual energy, others become barren. Either way, crops suffer. That's where tools like the vibrating hoe and combing rake come in, they balance qi across the field."
"So that's the effect of those 'magic' tools," Ning muttered. He'd been curious about the 'magical' hoes.
Zhou nodded. "The Soil Refining Art also solves this. At great success, it can even improve soil fertility, slowly upgrading a sub-grade field into a first-grade one. Of my ten acres, one reached first-grade, and the sect rewarded me with merits."
He demonstrated, ochre light rippling across the soil as if plowed by invisible hands. Then he scattered seeds neatly into the earth with a simple wave.
Ning had already adapted to such displays, so he merely observed quietly.
"This little trick is called Spiritual Hands," Zhou said proudly. "Perfect for large-scale sowing. But it requires mid-stage Qi Refining and diligent practice. After sowing, you must cast the Soil Refining Technique again."
He clapped his hands and smiled. "Alright. This acre is planted."
Ning watched the seeds sink into the soil. The full cycle of magical farming. Cultivator edition.
"Brother, you're truly talented, a role model. I wonder how long it will take me to reach even half your level."
Zhou chuckled. "Xiao Ning, to be honest, even at the sixth level of Qi Refining, there are only a handful of spiritual farmers in the sect who've reached my level."
"What a pity."
Zhou's smile faded. "I'm fifty-three. At most, I can stay in the sect another seven years before I'm forced out."
The lifespan of a Qi Refining cultivator wasn't much longer than an ordinary man's. Reaching a hundred and ten was already rare. Foundation Establishment stretched life to two hundred. Moreover… sixty was the first red line of qi cultivation. After that, the body declined, and advancement became nearly impossible.
Ning absorbed the knowledge quietly before speaking. "Senior Brother, your skills are exceptional. Even if you can't build a foundation, spiritual farming is one of the Hundred Professions. Surely the sect will keep you. You've already surpassed most farmers."
"The sect has thought of that," Zhou admitted. "If a disciple over sixty proves mastery, he can remain. For spiritual farming, you need three planting spells at great success. I only have two, the Cloud Rain and the Soil Refining, and that's mostly thanks to my earth attribute."
"You still have seven years," Ning said sincerely. "If you persist, there may be hope."
Zhou shook his head. "Some things can't be forced. It took me seven or eight years to understand that truth." His eyes dimmed, but only for a moment. Then he lifted his brows and grinned slyly.
"I gave up cultivation years ago. Now I plan to father as many children as possible."
"…What?" Ning froze at the sudden change in painting style.
"I may be old, but cultivator blood doesn't decline until sixty. I'll head to the mortal world, marry a string of concubines, and hope for a talented descendant. My low-grade root wasted twenty years of my life. With it, breaking through late-stage is harder than ascending the heavens."
"Spiritual roots, huh…" Ning sighed. Compared to Zhou, he was luckier. A mid-grade root wasn't heaven-defying, but it was enough to see him through late-stage Qi Refining with hard work.
"To be honest," Zhou added, narrowing his eyes with envy, "I'm jealous of you, Junior Brother. Not just your root, but your five-element attribute too. In farming, you could be called… the Congenital Holy Farming Body."
Ning's lips twitched violently. Oh for heaven's sake. Why do cultivators slap ridiculous names on everything? Holy Farming Body? Really?!
Still, Zhou's sigh carried real sadness. Ning hesitated. "Senior Brother-"
But Zhou cut him off with a wretched grin. "As for me, I'll just return home and live like an emperor. I'll marry ten-no, twenty of the most beautiful mortal women I can find, and spend my twilight years surrounded by beauties. If the Dao won't grant me breakthroughs, I'll grant myself comfort."
Ning's sympathy evaporated instantly.
Fudge! Give me back my concern, you shameless old goat.
...
Thanks for reading~ Like ReplyReport Reactions:Dio Black, Kukulkan, darkli4n and 507 othersPlumBlossomSep 18, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Arrogant young masters are the norm 1.9 New View contentPlumBlossomSloth incarnateSep 21, 2025Add bookmark#69It was the day of the Lecture, delivered by one of the Foundation Establishment senior of the sect.
Ning walked towards the lecture in an unhurried pace. The buildings lined up in perfect bilateral symmetry on both sides of the path, like mirror images locked in place. Probably meant to represent balance or harmony or something lofty like that.
'Noice,' Ning thought, giving a silent nod of approval.
Before long, the General Affairs Hall came into view. He slipped inside and noted he was a good half hour early. A safe choice, after all, if you show up early, you will get ignored, but if you arrive fashionably late, people will definitely notice. And if the one noticing happens to be someone who could sneeze you into a smear on the floor, better not take the risk.
"Brother Ning, you are here!" Wei Zhisuang called out, waving from a corner where he and his usual group were gathered.
"Greetings." Ning returned the bow, hands cupped neatly, his back tilting at an exact thirty-degree angle just like he had practiced in front of the mirror.
Glancing at the group, Ning was quite surprised.
He knew that Wei Zhusang, Zhang Feng, and Lang Rulang were thick as thieves, so it wasn't a shock to see the three of them clustered together. What did catch his eye was the fourth person among them.
A young man with sharp brows, already in the second stage of Qi Condensation, wearing an expression that could only be described as "arrogant."
"So, this is another member of your mutual aid association?" the young man drawled, giving Ning a once-over. "Hng. Looks… passable."
Ning tilted his head slightly and let his gaze drift toward Wei Zhusang, wordlessly asking for context.
Inwardly, though, he couldn't help himself. Who's this sassy lost child?
"Ahem! This is Brother Su Fan," Wei introduced quickly, his tone. He leaned closer to add, "He's with the Alchemy Hall."
Ah. That explained it.
Ning understood immediately.
This man was Rich, with a capital R.
Wei, Zhang, and Lang all came from respectable cultivation families, but their connections had only secured them work in the Weapon Refining and Talisman Halls. Nothing to scoff at, as those halls ranked among the top of the "Hundred Immortal Arts."
Still, where there are people, there is class division. Alchemy and Formation always sat a little higher on the ladder, even among the four great arts. Those two touched directly on cultivation itself: spiritual pills and arrays made or broke a cultivator's path. Weapons and talismans were prestigious, sure, but ultimately tools.
"So, it's Brother Su." Ning offered a mild smile and clasped his hands. "Pleased to meet you."
"Hmph." Su Fan barely dipped his chin in acknowledgment, his nose tilted skyward.
Fudge. The mandatory young master has arrived.
Wei Zhusang hurriedly stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Don't mind, Brother Su Fan. His background is… quite strong."
Ning shook his head, tone calm. "It's fine. Brother Su Fan's cultivation is higher than ours. That must've taken effort. It's only natural he carries himself differently."
Wei Zhusang blinked, then gave him a thumbs-up of respect. "Brother, I admire your mindset."
At that, Su Fan finally spoke again, voice arrogant but no longer so harsh. "Hmph. It seems you are… acceptable."
'Ah, why was he not surprised? There was no privacy in the world.' Ning was not surprised to see that Su Fan was eavesdropping. Even though Wei Zhusang was closer to him, cultivators possess a much sharper sense, so he was not about to blunder here of all things.
Suddenly, a figure wearing a moon-white robe descended upon the square. With grace, the figure disembarked from the sword, and it automatically sheathed itself.
The arriving figure exuded an aura of immortal-like elegance, fulfilling the expectations Ning had for a cultivator.
All of the disciples quickly saluted the figure, shouting in unison, "We have seen the elder."
The majestic-looking elder merely waved his hand nonchalantly and said, "Don't be so formal. You may call me Elder Liu. Today, I will provide a brief lesson on cultivation, so I hope all of you will pay close attention."
With his opening remarks complete, Elder Liu delved into the subject of cultivation. Ning quickly focused on it.
He explained that the goal of cultivation was to refine the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, to strengthen oneself and continuously improve one's realm, and ultimately to surpass the limitations of heaven and earth and become immortal.
Elder Liu went on to say, "The path of cultivation is fraught with difficulties and dangers. Thus, there are two methods of protection. The first is the use of magical techniques or spells. The second is the practice of martial arts."
He explained that the magic method involved converting the qi of the body into natural elements such as fire, water, gold, earth, thunder, and wood, in order to attack. Low-level cultivators often used common spells like fireballs, lightning, and wind blades.
Martial arts, on the other hand, emphasized the power within oneself, using various techniques to imbue weapons with qi or to engage in close combat.
"The cultivation realms - Qi Condensation, Foundation Building, Purple Mansion. Core Formation, Nascent Soul, to name a few - are divided into nine stages each. Remember, it's important to advance in your realm, but your foundation must be strong," Elder Liu Zhang reminded the disciples.
Just then, a late arrival caught someone's attention.
A youth stumbled into the hall, clothes tattered, face smudged with dirt.
Ning raised a brow.
It was Xiao Fan.
"How dare you come so late?" a voice rang out.
Ning turned his head. Another youth, clad in flamboyant robes and dripping arrogance, sneered with a villain's smirk. A little different than the one Su Fan had.
"It's Xiao Hong," Zhang Feng muttered.
Ning studied him. Another arrogant young master? Are they breeding these guys in the sect's backyard?
"Xiao Hong? The one with high-grade spiritual roots?" Ning asked quietly.
"Yes," Zhang Feng confirmed.
Wei smirked. "This will be interesting."
Ning's curiosity piqued. Entertainment was scarce when you were broke, so he was naturally not about to pass it up. "Interesting how?"
Wei lowered his voice. "Xiao Fan's father was the Xiao Family heir, destined for greatness. Then he shocked everyone by marrying a seemingly ordinary woman. That gave Xiao Hong's father a chance to seize power. Later, both of Xiao Fan's parents vanished mysteriously. To make matters worse, Xiao Fan was diagnosed with congenital spiritual vein impairment. His heir status was stripped, and Xiao Hong inherited everything."
Ning sucked in a sharp breath. Parents dead. Mysterious mother. Trash-tier talent. We've hit the holy trinity of protagonist backstory clichés.
"But," Zhang Feng added with gravity, "a passing expert later repaired his spiritual veins. No one knows why."
And the mysterious expert! He's stacking buffs faster than a mobile gacha game. Fudge! I might really be inside a third-rate xianxia script.
On stage, Xiao Fan squared his shoulders. "I arrived late because three people blocked my way, on someone's orders." His glare shot toward Xiao Hong.
"Is that so? Excuses." Xiao Hong sneered. "You dare disrespect Elder Liu with tardiness?"
'The dialogue really does sound like a third-rate script,' Ning thought, calmly mingling with the crowd, blending in naturally.
"You!" Xiao Fan bristled, fists clenched.
"Silence." Elder Liu's voice cut through the air. With a flick of his hand, an oppressive pressure slammed into the disciples.
Ning staggered. His eyes gleamed at the demonstrated power.
So this is a Foundation Establishment cultivator? And that was just a wave of his hand? The power curve here is ridiculous.
The elder's gaze swept across the room. "This is a lecture, not a stage for squabbles. Interrupt again, and you will be punished." His eyes landed on Xiao Hong, who promptly spat blood under the weight of the elder's aura. Then he turned to Xiao Fan. "You, listen carefully. Do not be late again."
"Yes, Elder!" Xiao Fan bowed gratefully, then sent a smug glance at Xiao Hong, who clutched his chest in humiliation.
"Yup, this guy is definitely going to send assassins or some shit," Ning thought. He had almost pegged Xiao Fan as the chosen one, though a sliver of doubt lingered, thanks to insufficient information.
'If I hadn't survived my teenage years, this level of existential crisis would've flattened me,' Ning mused. After all, it's not every day you realize you might be stuck inside a xianxia novel.
Instantly, his head was filled with the theory of parallel worlds, the multiverse, and different timelines.
Fortunately, before he could go much deeper into the rabbit hole, he was quickly drawn to Elder Liu's lecture. So much so that when Elder Liu stopped, Ning almost wanted to ask him to start over.
Elder Liu's gaze swept over the disciples before he continued. "Now, I will inform you that the sect has recently granted an additional incentive to this batch. Anyone who reaches the third stage of Qi Condensation within a year may select a technique for free from the Sutra Pavilion. Those who reach the fourth stage will be granted an extra opportunity."
"In this world, those who do not advance gradually fall behind. Most of you possess mid- to low-grade spiritual roots and will inevitably face bottlenecks in Qi Condensation. Even a small lapse in effort could prevent you from reaching the late stage before the age of thirty, causing you to miss the chance to build a solid foundation. That's why you must practice diligently, especially now, since your batch has come upon a rare period. Hence, the reward. So don't let the sect down." Elder Liu concluded and swiftly left without a second glance.
"Rare period?' Ning's eyes narrowed in thought, gazing at the protagonist among us.
...
Thanks for reading~ Like ReplyReport Reactions:Dio Black, Kukulkan, darkli4n and 439 othersPlumBlossomSep 21, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Opportunity 1.10 New View contentPlumBlossomSloth incarnateSep 30, 2025Add bookmark#76After the lecture was over, Ning couldn't wait to return and digest all the insights he had gained. While the elder did not explain much, the points were concise with many dos and don'ts.
But all that had to wait for a while, because today was the first true gathering of the Mutual Aid Association.
The group quickly found themselves in a tea house, the closest thing this world had to a café. The place smelled faintly of roasted tea leaves and sandalwood, with waiters gliding about in robes that looked one step short of ceremonial attire.
'I miss hoodies,' Ning thought.
The clothes here were… cumbersome. Robes looked elegant until you had to sit, stand, or bend. Then you realized sleeves were traps, getting caught in everything.
Wei, naturally, took the lead, ushering everyone to a long table by the window. He clapped his hands together. "Since today is our first proper meeting, let's make it official with introductions!"
Ning gave him a sideways look. This was sounding more and more like the corporate icebreakers back on Earth- minus the doughnuts. He missed doughnuts.
One by one, people went around, giving the basic introduction.
First, Wei Zhusang, Zhang Feng, and Lang Rulang introduced themselves. From the glances around the table, it was clear most already knew who they were.
Then came Su Fan. He simply snorted, his posture as arrogant as ever. "Su Fan. Hmph!"
That was it. A name and a disdainful snort.
This attitude, of course, infuriated quite a few; after all, not everyone is as chill or worldly as Ning.
"This-"
But Wei smoothly cut in. "Brother Su Fan is a man of few words. He works in the Alchemy Hall." A pause, then, with some deliberation: "His sister is a core disciple."
That settled things.
Ning raised his brow at the new info.
As far as he knew, disciples were also differentiated into a few ranks. Peripheral disciples, outer disciples, inner disciples, and core disciples.
Inner disciples had the possibility of building a foundation. Core disciple had the possibility for Purple Mansion.
As for outer and peripheral disciples, they were just equivalent to workers. Working as horses and mules for the comfort of the upper level.
Of course, there were murmurs, and then glances of envy and awe which Su Fan ate up, his nose ever the taller.
'At least, his pillar for arrogance is thick enough.' Ning also couldn't help but envy Su Fan's condition. With such a background, his journey would certainly be smoother than most.
A few newer members went next.
A skinny youth spoke nervously. "L-Liu Yuan. I'm a junior clerk in the Records Office. If you ever need something copied or checked… I can help."
Another, broad-shouldered but quiet, added, "Chen Mu. Beast Taming Hall. I'm still just feeding spirit chickens, but… I'll improve."
And a girl with quick eyes chimed in last, "Qiao Mei. Spirit Clothing Hall. I am still working on combing the silk."
As the voices circled the table, Ning also introduced himself simply, "Ji Ning. I work in the spiritual fields."
As the round of introduction went around, Ning noticed most were from humble backgrounds, but had diverse professions.
He held back from glancing at the Wei Trio meaningfully. After all, this was already a preliminary sign of building one's own faction.
Still, his attention was quickly drawn to something more important.
"Brother Wei, what did the elder mean by great change?" Qiao Mei asked softly, her glance at Wei a bit too friendly.
Ning almost couldn't help but give a thumbs up to the girl; she asked a great question indeed. At least, it saves him the trouble of looking too curious.
Wei, Zhang, and Lang exchanged brief nods.
Wei spoke first, his tone steady. "The great change concerns our chance at Foundation Establishment. It's tied to both this batch of disciples and the one before us."
Zhang Feng leaned forward, a grin tugging his lips. "Basically, all these incentives, resources, lectures, leniency, are to push us to reach Great Perfection in Qi Cultivation faster. With mediocre roots, getting there is easy. Breaking through isn't. That's the wall."
"Ugly wall, too," he added, which drew a few chuckles.
Wei nodded, serious again. "In five years, there will be a sect-wide competition. If you rank high enough, you can become an inner disciple directly, even without late-stage Qi Cultivation. It will smoothen the path for Foundation Establishment."
Lang Rulang finally spoke, her voice cool and sharp, cutting through the chatter. "So practice hard. Otherwise, you'll be left behind."
The table grew quiet at that.
Ning narrowed his eyes slightly. Not at the warning, but at what it implied: the sect wasn't just being generous. It was being prepared. For what, exactly, he'd have to wait and see.
...
After returning to his humble abode, the first thing Ning did was pull out his notes.
He had noticed during the lecture that many disciples hadn't bothered with them. But as someone who'd gone through compulsory education, he knew the truth: you might think you "got it" in class, but the moment you stepped out, half of it slipped away. Notes were lifelines.
Flipping to the meridian diagrams, he began to follow the instructions.
If he was being honest, Ning was still wrapping his head around the fact that the human body here wasn't the same as back on Earth. Spiritual roots, dantians, meridians… they weren't metaphors or flowery diagrams. They were real.
Luckily, the original Ji Ning had studied enough that he wasn't fumbling blind.
Calming his thoughts, he straightened his posture, placed his palms over his knees, and drew in a slow breath. Qi gathered faintly in his chest before he nudged it forward, guiding it toward the heart meridian.
At first, it was like forcing water into a clogged hose. The qi bunched up, sluggish and uncooperative, threatening to scatter at any moment.
Elder Liu had advised them to visualize the flow for smoother circulation. Easier said than done. Until one reached higher realms and could use inner vision, it all stayed vague and abstract.
"Alas," Ning muttered inwardly, "if only I could borrow a book or two."
Unfortunately, peripheral sect disciples weren't allowed access to the Pavilion's miscellaneous texts. Rules, restrictions, and another motivation for progress.
So, he settled for what he had. He imagined a steady stream of water, trickling smoothly through invisible channels.
With his otherworldly knowledge, it wasn't exactly hard. Gradually, he found his rhythm.
Warmth spread along a pathway he hadn't known existed, running from under his armpit down the inside of his arm, sparking at certain points like hidden switches. Laogong, Shaohai, and Shaochong, the names from his notes, matched perfectly with what he was feeling. Heat in the palm. A dull throb at the elbow. A faint tingle at the tip of his little finger.
It wasn't painful, but it wasn't comfortable either. More like the pins-and-needles rush when blood returned to a limb that had fallen asleep.
The second circuit was easier. By the third, he noticed small blockages, places where the qi snagged like cloth caught on thorns. He eased it through with care, remembering Elder Liu's warning: never force it. A torn meridian was about as fatal as clogging your arteries. Magical or not, it required great care.
By the time he completed a full cycle, the qi looped back into his chest lighter, smoother, and more refined than before. An hour slipped by unnoticed until he finally exhaled, releasing a faint stream of turbid breath.
[1st stage Qi Condensation:2 → 3]
"Noice. Those insights really are useful," Ning mentally fist-bumped. Progress achieved.
But his triumph was short-lived. His thoughts drifted back to the association's talk of the "great change."
He had confidence in reaching Foundation Establishment; his talent was decent, good enough to give him that much. Purple mansion would be a stretch, but with a bit of luck, it was not impossible.
But beyond that? Without opportunity, he'd hit a ceiling. Especially, with the huge amount of time every step took, it would cut his chances of reaching the next stage slowly but surely.
But now there was an opportunity.
If Xiao Fan truly was the chosen one, as every cliché screamed, then maybe the smartest move wasn't to slow down, but to ride the dragon's tail. For that, though, he'd need to grow stronger. Much stronger.
Ning leaned back with a sigh.
"If you don't progress, you regress," he muttered. "Looks like it's time to change the plan."
...
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