Chapter 3: A Hectic Life

Night had fallen.

The golden crow had dipped below the horizon, and the stars had returned to the sky.

“One, two, three… ten.”

In the dimly lit room, Jiang Min sat on her neatly made bed, counting her yearly stipend—the currency of the world of immortals, spirit stones. No matter how she counted, there were always just ten.

Though the rules stated that a menial disciple received twenty low-grade spirit stones each year—just enough, it was said, to scrape by for both living and cultivating—the middle-aged steward had docked half with a single word. Now she was left with only ten. Wouldn’t this mean she’d fall far behind the others in her cultivation?

Aside from spirit stones, menial disciples were also given two Foundation Nourishing Pills every year, a tonic for fortifying their roots. Yet now, she had received only one.

“What am I going to do?” Jiang Min collapsed onto her bed, rolling over in frustration before sitting up again to rummage through the bundle she’d received from the steward. Apart from two sets of grey menial disciple robes, there was also a book.

She flipped through the pages, but found only characters she didn’t recognize and diagrams she couldn’t decipher.

“It’s supposed to be the basic cultivation method, ‘Spirit Communion Technique,’ suitable for those with five spiritual roots. As long as I follow the instructions, I’ll embark on the path of cultivation.”

Since many disciples were still illiterate, the sect held literacy and comprehension classes in the Hall of Teachings. Menial disciples could attend when they found time between chores. There were three sessions each day—morning, noon, and evening. If you missed them, there were no make-ups.

“Uncle Lu said we have to clean Flowing Cloud Peak during the day. So, I’ll only be able to attend the evening class?”

At this point, Jiang Min had already arrived at the library pavilion on Flowing Cloud Peak and settled in the small courtyard behind the building.

Uncle Lu, the steward of the pavilion, was a Foundation Establishment cultivator named Lu Qingquan. He had told the new disciples that although they were only menial laborers, they didn’t need to call him “Steward.” All Qi Refining disciples were to be addressed as “Senior Brother” or “Senior Sister,” Foundation Establishment stewards as “Uncle,” and those above Golden Core by their honorific titles.

Apart from Uncle Lu, there were two other stewards in the library pavilion, three in total, with two on duty at a time and one off rotation. But when Jiang Min arrived, she had only seen Uncle Lu.

As for the menial disciples at the pavilion, two old hands remained: Senior Brother Zhong, who was about forty, and Senior Brother Zhao, whose hair was already white. The rest had retired and gone home just the day before.

There were three new menial disciples this year: Jiang Min herself, a girl named Ming Ruoshui, and a boy named Qin Gengyun. Both Ming and Qin hailed from families of cultivators.

Uncle Lu had already assigned cleaning duties to each of them. At sunrise, they were to begin sweeping the steps, clearing away fallen branches and leaves, and dusting the statues and railings.

As long as the cleaning was finished, the rest of their time was their own.

Uncle Lu also mentioned that if they reached a certain level of cultivation, they could use basic spells for cleaning, making the work much easier.

Thinking of this, Jiang Min was filled with determination.

“Cultivation! As long as I cultivate, I’ll be as strong as Li Mao, and I won’t have to worry about losing to him!”

“But before I can cultivate, I need to learn to read and understand these things. That’ll take a lot of time, won’t it? No, listening to just one class a day is too slow. I’ll finish my chores quickly every day, try to catch the afternoon session, and then attend the evening one as well. I’ll listen to both!”

She was efficient when it came to work.

Clutching her spirit stones and the cultivation manual, Jiang Min lay back on her bed, imagining her future life. After all, she was only ten years old, and after a long day, she was exhausted. Before she knew it, she’d drifted off to sleep, the lamp still burning beside her.

That night, she had a wonderful dream.

She dreamed she was flying high in the sky, free and at ease. While soaring, she encountered the chubby Li Mao. With a single punch, she knocked him flat, stood over him with her hands on her hips, and laughed triumphantly.

…

“What? A one-year ferry token costs two low-grade spirit stones?”

The next day, when the sun was at its highest, Jiang Min had already finished cleaning her assigned area and made her way to the ferry point on Flowing Cloud Peak.

Though still unfamiliar with the terrain, she worked with extra vigor that morning, smiling to herself as she recalled her dream and efficiently completing her chores. When she ran into Uncle Lu, he even praised her diligence.

After finishing her tasks, she changed into a clean set of clothes, packed some dry rations, and hurried to the ferry point, hoping to take a flying boat to the Hall of Teachings on another peak. Walking would take more than half the day.

But when she inquired, she discovered that flying boats were not free.

She’d have to pay two low-grade spirit stones for a token that would grant her passage for a year on any of the sect’s ferries.

The Foundation Establishment cultivator on duty at the ferry looked quite young, sitting cross-legged in a small pavilion at the mountain path’s entrance. When he heard her question, he glanced at Jiang Min and replied coolly, “Don’t want to pay? Then walk.”

Jiang Min hesitated miserably.

She’d only received ten low-grade spirit stones, and they were barely warm in her hands. Now, just paying for transportation over the next year would cost her two.

Only Foundation Establishment cultivators could fly on magic items, so she had only two choices: walk to class, or spend the spirit stones.

Jiang Min clenched her teeth. She could always find a way to earn more spirit stones, but what she lacked most was time. Time, after all, was more precious than money.

She pulled a small cloth pouch from her robe, took out two spirit stones—each about two fingers wide and half translucent—and respectfully offered them to the steward.

“Disciple Jiang Min would like to purchase a ferry token, please, Uncle.”

At last, the steward stood up, accepted the stones, and took out a small token. Gathering a bit of spiritual energy at his fingertip, he inscribed “Jiang Min, Fourteenth of August, Year of the Water Rabbit” onto it and handed it to her.

“This token will be valid until the fourteenth of August next year, the Year of the Wood Dragon. After that, you’ll need to buy a new one from the ferry attendant on duty.”

Jiang Min accepted it gratefully. “Thank you for the information, Uncle.”

The steward then waved his sleeve, and with a flash of spiritual light, a small boat—enough for three or four people—appeared on the open ground.

“Come aboard. Let’s go.”

Jiang Min hurried onto the boat and sat down obediently. The flying craft rose steadily into the air, carrying her and the steward through the sea of clouds.

From that day forward, Jiang Min embarked on a busy new life.

Every day, she would rise early to finish her chores, then carry her water pouch, paper, brush, and homemade rations to catch the flying boat to her lessons at the Hall of Teachings. Finishing her work early meant she could attend the second session each day, and then the evening one as well, allowing her to solidify what she’d learned.

She also knew that Li Mao, being literate, was unlikely to attend the classes, but just in case, she carefully inquired about the schedule at the Alchemy Hall. She discovered that their menial disciples began work in the afternoon and had to stay up late at night, so they could only attend the first class in the morning.

Satisfied, Jiang Min devoted herself to her studies, diligently learning to read.

Unnoticed, time slipped quietly by, as relentless as a flowing stream.