"The door! Brother's back!"
Liang Yuan's excited voice rang out before the key had even turned fully.
Liang Xiao stepped inside and immediately saw a middle-aged man sitting in the living room. The man had a dignified bearing, his every movement exuding calm authority.
Opposite him sat Grandpa Liang Wen, smiling nervously as he poured tea.
When Grandpa saw Liang Xiao enter, he stood up quickly and introduced him.
"Ah Xiao, this cultivator is Director Yang from the Street Office."
The guest smiled kindly and rose to greet him.
"You must be Liang Xiao. Not bad—truly not bad. A hero emerges from the youth. When I was your age, I hadn't even finished the cultivation stage."
Liang Xiao bowed at once.
"Liang Xiao greets Lord Yang."
Even as he spoke, his mind raced.
What is the director doing here?
Does he already know I've become a cultivator?
It made sense. The news from that morning had likely spread across the entire district by now. And someone in Director Yang's position would certainly have channels to receive it first.
Yang Yukun's smile never faltered. He took a thin booklet from his sleeve and handed it over.
"Take a good look at this. In the eyes of mortals, cultivators and the privileged are one and the same. But in truth, there's a distinction.
Our privileges are granted by law, and the prerequisite for those privileges—" he tapped the cover lightly, "—is merit.
No need to see me off."
With that, he turned, stepped out the door, and—before Liang Xiao could even blink—disappeared.
The speed was astonishing. Liang Xiao hadn't even caught a blur of movement.
Director Yang had come only to deliver the booklet. As head of the local office, it was his duty to inform every new cultivator in the district of their rights and responsibilities.
He left quickly not out of arrogance, but urgency. He was still investigating the mysterious phenomenon that had occurred days earlier—the "sphere of light" event.
In his mind, anyone capable of triggering such a phenomenon had to be at least Foundation Establishment stage.
He never once considered the young man before him as the source.
Grandpa Liang Wen remained by the door long after the director left, bowing slightly to the empty hallway.
Only when he was sure the man was gone did he close the door, turn, and beam at his grandson.
"Xiao! Have you really become a cultivator?" His voice trembled with emotion.
"Brother," Liang Yuan said eagerly, "that Lord Yang said you're famous now! The whole school knows you're a cultivator!"
So the director did know. He'd even timed his visit precisely for Liang Xiao's return.
Liang Xiao smiled and nodded. "That's right."
"Wonderful!" Liang Yuan cheered, bouncing in place.
"Heaven truly has eyes," Grandpa Liang Wen murmured, eyes glistening. "Our Liang family has finally produced a cultivator!"
Liang Xiao's gaze dropped to the booklet in his hands. The bold title on the cover made his brow furrow slightly.
The Cultivation Family
"Grandpa, A-Yuan, I've already eaten at school," he said gently. "I'll head to my room."
"Go on, go on," Grandpa waved hurriedly. "Just remember your exam time tomorrow!"
"Brother, study hard!" Liang Yuan added, still grinning. "Grandpa and I will eat first."
Liang Xiao nodded, then retreated to his small room, closing the door behind him. He sat on his narrow bed and examined the booklet.
The cover bore only the four characters "The Cultivation Family."
He flipped to the first page—and blinked.
A website address was printed there, followed by a short note:
[Access granted. Only verified cultivators may log in to Cultivation Home.
Register using your official ID card.]
Raising an eyebrow, he continued reading.
The subsequent pages elaborated on what Director Yang had said earlier.
It turned out that in this world, "cultivator" and "privileged person" were not the same thing.
Cultivators gained power through effort, but true legal privileges required merit—proof of contribution to humanity.
To gain such merit was straightforward in theory:
slay an evil spirit, exterminate a monster, protect the innocent.
Each deed earned merit points. With enough accumulated, a cultivator's privileges—and benefits—would grow.
One paragraph, highlighted in red ink, stood out sharply:
Cultivators without officially granted privileges are not under state protection.
However, if such cultivators commit crimes, their punishment is far harsher than that of mortals—execution on sight being the most severe.
Liang Xiao nodded thoughtfully.
It made sense. Earth faced external enemies on all fronts—evil spirits, monsters, and the ever-looming threat from beyond the skies.
A rogue cultivator was a liability the Federation could not afford.
The booklet also described the two departments that issued and verified merit tasks:
the Law Enforcement Division for cultivators, and the Security Bureau for mortals.
But in this age of data and surveillance, most missions could now be accepted online through the official system.
Each cultivator had only one verified account. Even if they used a nickname, their real identity was bound by their registration ID.
Curious, Liang Xiao took out his old phone—a scratched, outdated model he'd bought for 100 credits at a second-hand stall.
Slow, but functional.
He typed the URL into the browser.
After several seconds of loading, the website [Cultivation Home] opened.
The first page was a registration form.
He entered his ID number and hesitated briefly at the nickname field.
Too lazy to think of a new one, he used an old alias from his past life—a name he'd almost forgotten.
Bloodthirsty Scythe
It was taken from a weapon effect in Genshin Impact—a blood-red scythe wielded by a certain character called "Servant."
Registration completed swiftly.
The screen blinked, then redirected to the homepage.
Across the top, a banner scrolled in bold letters:
Protecting the Earth Is Everyone's Responsibility!
Below it were multiple sections:
[Task Area], [Forum Area], [Cultivation Technique Exchange], [Spell Exchange], and more.
Liang Xiao tapped directly into the Task Area.
A notification appeared briefly—"Auto-matching local tasks…"—before a new interface loaded, displaying dozens of mission listings.
The topmost red-highlighted mission read:
Tracing the Spider-Man's Trail — Foundation Establishment Required
"Spider-Man?" he muttered. "Never heard of that."
Scrolling further, he saw that most missions required specific cultivation levels.
Though the system didn't strictly enforce it, each listing warned users not to take tasks beyond their ability.
The simplest assignments involved capturing or eliminating escaped mortal criminals—technically doable, but tedious and low-reward.
A more efficient route was leaving the city to hunt monsters.
But even the weakest beasts were lethal to anyone below Qi Training Level 3.
There were also month-long patrol missions—safe, but painfully time-consuming.
And, of course, the lucrative evil-spirit exterminations… which he couldn't even apply for.
Not only was he just a quasi-cultivator, but he didn't know a single combat spell.
Taking those tasks now would be suicide.
"..."
He sighed heavily. So basically, I can't do anything.
His gaze shifted toward another tab.
Maybe the Spell Exchange section? If I can learn a spell or two…
He switched pages.
The Spell Exchange Area was packed with posts—countless topics and video thumbnails.
Some were labeled Free, but most required payment—hundreds, sometimes tens of thousands of federal credits.
"Money…" he muttered, exhaling deeply.
He opened a few of the free ones.
They offered minor, low-tier spells with almost no combat value:
Cleanse Technique — a household charm for cleaning dust.
Water Gathering Spell — condenses ambient moisture into drinkable water.
Fire Ignition Spell — produces a spark barely strong enough to light a cigarette.
Utterly basic.
Still, even these might serve as practice someday.
Just as he was about to close the tab, a new post flashed to the top of the feed.
[LIVE NOW] — A Foundation Establishment Cultivator Demonstrates Real Combat Spells!
Liang Xiao blinked.
"A livestream? Cultivators do that too?"
Curiosity piqued, he tapped the link.