Night had fallen. I lay on the living room sofa, tossing and turning endlessly. Lately I'd turned the whole household upside down — our family was already barely scraping by, and now my cultivation had caused one disaster after another, very nearly bringing the roof down on our heads. The most pressing problem staring me in the face was how to cover expenses now that I was unemployed. Tiptoeing around Lin Yao every day wasn't doing either of us any good. Since she'd found out I'd lost my job, I'd been banished to this sofa for nights on end. The more I thought about it, the more my head throbbed — and without thinking, my hand drifted to the bronze ring on my left hand, fingers rubbing it absently...
Wait. The ring. I stared at the band on my ring finger. The system. I smacked myself on the forehead. Why hadn't I gone to the system?
I shouted at the ring: "Oi, you little geezer — get out here!"
The ring grew suddenly hot, and the old man's holographic projection flickered into being.
This time he'd gone full entrepreneur: a red sleeveless shirt printed with the words "GET RICH QUICK," a tattered palm-leaf fan in his hand bearing the slogan "FORTUNE AND PROSPERITY," and a grin on his face like he'd already read my mind. "Well, well, well — the penny's finally dropped, has it? You actually thought to come crawling to your system daddy for help?"
"Spare me the commentary!" I snapped. "Look at my situation — no one will touch my résumé, I'm too old and creaky to deliver food, the mortgage and car loan are strangling me, and I can't even pay my kid's after-school care fees. Just tell me — how do I make money?"
The old man split into a wide grin, flashing two gleaming gold false teeth. "Should've said so sooner! This system is a walking wealth bible! Have you forgotten the Qi-Gathering Pills from the mission rewards?"
He suddenly leaned in close, and a cloud of dust shook off his fan straight into my face. "In the cultivation world, a single one of those is worth a whole spirit ore vein. Use it on an ordinary person, though… it cures everything under the sun!"
My eyes lit up. Spirit mines and universal cures? That powerful? So what I had here was basically the equivalent of carrying a golden rice bowl while begging on the street — playing poor when I was sitting on a fortune? How had it never occurred to me to work with the pills? Had years of being a corporate drone stunted my thinking?
But then I frowned again. "Just… sell pills outright? Isn't that illegal? I'm not looking to be the next guy in I'm Not the Eastern Medicine God, thanks."
"Idiot!" The old man rapped me on the head in exasperation — even the hologram wobbled with the force of it. "If you can't sell it directly, work around it! Blend the Qi-Gathering Pill into food — make it a 'spiritual snack'! For instance…" He drew out the pause for effect. "Spiritual grilled skewers!"
My eyes lit up, a flicker of hope kindling in my chest. "Use Qi-Gathering Pills to make grilled fish?"
"Now you're getting it!" The old man waved his fan triumphantly. "And don't forget to head to the market and find Old Wang — track down that meteorite-iron chopping block of his. Strike it with your qi three times and you'll unlock a hidden sword-technique function: Sword Qi Scale Scraping."
"Sword Qi Scale Scraping?" I raised an eyebrow. "Sounds more reliable than an electric fish scaler. With that skill, cleaning fish would be a piece of cake."
"Naturally!" He leaned in again, his gold teeth catching the moonlight with an eerie glint. "Then grab a few live fish, grind a Qi-Gathering Pill down and dissolve it in water — and remember! It must be rootless water. Rainwater. Let the fish soak in it for a full hour to absorb the spiritual energy, then grill them. Anyone who eats it will be strengthened, invigorated, their skin positively glowing…"
"What happens if you don't use rootless water?" I asked, curious. "Rainwater's such a hassle — it's not like it rains every day."
"And now you're complaining about a little hassle?" The old man fixed me with a withering stare. "Cultivation means defying the natural order. Did you think it was as easy as eating lunch? Fine," he said, relenting with a dismissive wave, "let me give you a basic education, you amateur."
"Rootless water is drawn from heaven and earth, refined by the essence of sun and moon — pure, untainted, without a trace of impurity. It can perfectly unlock the spiritual energy within a Qi-Gathering Pill. Ingredients soaked in rootless water absorb that qi completely, undergoing a profound transformation, and the food you grill afterwards carries genuine restorative power. Use ordinary tap water, on the other hand — too many impurities — and the pill's spiritual energy is all but destroyed. You'd be lucky to get one percent of the Qi-Gathering Pill's effect out of it. Might as well just eat those Liuwei Dihuang pills you've got rattling around in your drawer!"
That stung. I made a mental note to throw every last one of those pills out when I got the chance. Not that I needed them — ever since I'd reached the first level of Qi Refining, my back had stopped aching, my legs had stopped hurting, I wasn't waking up drenched in sweat anymore, and I could sprint up six flights of stairs without breaking a breath.