The collective two and a half square miles of herb fields owned by the Qing-Yun Sect reverberated with the name of a boy, of gluttony in human form: Fang Xing.
For the past two months, Fang Xing had been consuming at least ten pounds of meat every day. This didn’t even include the rice, fruits, vegetables, and wine he would have on top of that, and he’d even buy some herbs and tonics every so often to supplement his sizable diet. Thanks to him, all five of the daotongs in his herb field had managed to gain themselves extra layers of fat complete with prominent double chins and potbellies.
Yet, despite all this food, Fang Xing had actually become thinner than he was before. In fact, he had become so thin he was like a piece of paper that could be easily sent flying on a breeze. In spite of his physique, however, his spirit was high and his eyes were shining with energy.
Although his eyes were focused on the hare roasting on the bonfire as though fascinated, Fang Xing’s mind was wandering off somewhere else. ‘As I expected, Qing-Yun’s Qi Formation is really powerful. No wonder even Ninth Uncle Joshu with his skills in martial arts wasn’t a match for that man….’
They’d spent nearly all their savings on food in these two months, and—without any other options—they been forced to resort to hunting. Fang Xing couldn’t really ask them to sell themselves, after all… and besides, based on their appearance, no one would want to pay for them anyway.
The sect fortunately didn’t have any restrictions on hunting for wild animals within its mountain ranges, and now that Fang Xing had grasped the basic flow of Qi, his eyes and ears had also become sharper than normal; hunting wild hares and birds was a breeze for him.
Fang Xing had even run into a wolf and battled with it on one occasion. He’d grabbed its tail, jumped on its back, and then bashed it with his bare hands until the poor sucker died. When Fang Xing dragged the wolf back to their wooden cabin, Wang Zhi and the rest of the daotongs were so stunned they nearly wet themselves.
It was also from that point on that they finally accepted Fang Xing as their leader from the depths of their hearts. From that day onward, "Boss Fang Xing" was no longer just a name they forced themselves to address him with, but rather something that came honestly from their hearts.
‘I finally have enough Qi to circulate one full cycle. I wonder if this counts as reaching the first tier of Spirit Stage?’ Fang Xing thought to himself. According to the rules of the sect, once a daotong reached the first tier of Spirit Stage, they would no longer need to do any hard labor and instead would receive numerous benefits as a true disciple of the Qing-Yun Sect’s outer court.
Qing-Yun’s Qi Formation mentioned nothing on how to distinguish the difference between each tier, so Fang Xing was left without even knowing how close or how far he was to reaching the first one.
"Boss! We’re back with the firewood…." Freckle-Boy and Wang Zhi were smiling broadly, each carrying a bundle of firewood on their back. Although they’d started hunting, the work at the herb field still had to be done, so the daotongs took turns hunting with Fang Xing. Today it was Freckle-Boy and Wang Zhi’s turn, and he’d asked them to pick some firewood so they could start up a fire and cook their kills for the day.
During Wang Zhi’s time as boss, there had been a clear hierarchy despite there only being five of them total. Wang Zhi would bully someone, and that someone would bully the next person down along his hierarchical chain, and so on. Ever since Fang Xing had become the boss, however, everything had become much simpler—everyone had to listen to Fang Xing, and there was no bullying allowed among the rest of them. Every time Wang Zhi unconsciously tried to order Freckle-Boy or Ghost-Face to do something, Fang Xing would kick him out of it. Within three months, Wang Zhi had even gotten used to washing his own dirty socks.
Fang Xing’s dirty socks were washed by everyone else, of course.
"The fire’s almost out, hurry up you two! Going to just take your time?" Fang Xing mocked, hurrying the boys over.
The supposedly simple and ascetic lifestyle of these daotongs had now become quite… plentiful.
As they were portioning out the already-cooked hare meat onto plates, someone ran hurriedly over, screaming, "Boss! There’s a shixiong from one of the departments asking for you guys in the herb field! They’re angry because you’re not in the fields!"
All three of them looked up to see a worried Ghost-Face. Fang Xing wondered aloud, "Isn’t the monthly inspection tomorrow? What are they doing here today?"
"I’m not sure, but apparently it’s a shixiong named Yu who just happened to pass our herb field and decided to drop by and have a look…."
Hearing this, a surprised and bitter expression formed on Wang Zhi’s face. Normally, no one would ever bother them as long as they maintained their herb field well.
Every three months, someone from the Herb Department would come and check in on the daotongs to make sure there was no slacking off and everything was in order, and if they managed to find something wrong or unusual during their visit, it was possible for the daotongs’ wages to be cut. Depending on the actual "problem", even physical punishment might get involved, and these greedy shixiongs would often take the opportunity to extort some money during their visits as well.
None of the gang had taken the day off today. They had, however, gone out to the back mountain to hunt, which was potentially a rather large "problem" now that someone had come here for an early inspection.
Freckle-Boy was so frightened that his complexion grew just as pale as Ghost-Face’s.
Fang Xing spat out the grassroot he’d been chewing on. "What are you all afraid of? I’ll go have a look!" he said with derision before ordering Wang Zhi to wrap up their cooked hare meat in bamboo leaves.
In front of the C-Rank herb field, three blue-faced Daoists coldly watched the three daotongs arrive following behind Ghost-Face.
‘It’s him?’ Fang Xing smirked to himself when he saw who the leader of the pack was: a stubby man with squinty eyes who clearly looked like he was up to no good.
The stubby man was the very same plump Daoist Fang Xing had ridiculed in front of hundreds and thousands of people during the recruitment ceremony: an outer court disciple named Yu Sanliang. The other two following close behind were two daotongs the plump Daoist had asked to be there with him to improve his image.
"Hah! Caught red-handed! This is during work hours; what are you all doing slacking off! If I go and report this to the Herb Department, they will beat the hell out of all of your *sses!" When Yu Sanliang saw Fang Xing from afar, even the fat on his face wobbled from excitement. "Oh, and especially you! You’ve only been here for how many days? How dare you violate the rules; do you want to be thrown out of the sect so soon?"
The plump Daoist Yu did not belong to the Herb Department, but actually worked at the Miscellaneous Department. This Miscellaneous Department—as its name implied—looked after all the menial matters in the Qing-Yun Sect. Put simply, they pretty much just ran errands for the other departments.
Yu Sanliang only decided to drop by the herb fields because he’d been asked to sort something out at another field. Remembering the little monkey he’d sent to a nearby field three months ago, he decided to drop by to see if he’d been fixed up by the older daotongs... but who would have expected that when he arrived at the field, Fang Xing would be nowhere to be seen? There was no better opportunity to have some sweet revenge for what the monkey said about him three months ago.
"Isn’t this Shixiong
"Zhu your face! My name is Yu!" The fat on his face rolled again as he loudly cursed.
Fang Xing smiled even more broadly when it seemed Yu Sanliang didn’t even realize he’d just been mocked. Suddenly, a random paragraph appeared across his mind:
‘Spirit Stage. Tier one. Physically weak. Amount of Qi contained in his meridians is….’
It was all information about Yu Sanliang’s cultivation tier and stage, and there was even information about his shortcomings.
‘Wait, was that… that book can do appraisals on people, too?’ Fang Xing was so surprised not even he could control the muscles in his face.
Seeing Fang Xing’s expression change, the plump Daoist was convinced his words must have sent the boy into shock and fear. Satisfied and proud of himself, he coldly laughed out, "Scared, huh? Then drop to your knees. If I feel satisfied after that, I may just forgive you this time…."
Fang Xing began to circle the plump Daoist in thought, catching the latter’s interest. Not knowing what the monkey could be planning in his head, the plump Daoist Yu began to yell, "What are you looking at, you little brat! I’ll kick you flying again if you keep on looking at me like—"
"Are you from the Herb Department?" Fang Xing suddenly interrupted.
"No, but so?"
"Did a shixiong from the Herb Department ask you to come here for inspection?" Fang Xing continued.
"No. I was passing by, so I thought I’d check on all of you to make sure no one was slacking off…."
"Slacking off your mom!" Fang Xing—being only ten years old—was not very tall in comparison to a fully grown man like the plump Daoist, but he was still able to reach his face to land a loud smack on his cheeks after a swift jump. An obvious palm mark was left on the Daoist’s right cheek, and blood began to ooze from his nose.
"Little bastard, you dare to hit me?" Yu Sanliang shouted a few seconds later after he realized what had just happened. Just as he finished, however, a powerful kick forced him to bend his leg at the knee and—unable to regain his balance—the Daoist fell flat on the ground face-first with Fang Xing standing right over him.
"No, how dare you! Someone from the Miscellaneous Department coming to interfere with our Herb Department?" Fang Xing landed another punch to Yu Sanliang’s face before continuing, "Yes, I’m beating you up. You know, you really deserve a good beating for thinking you have any authority here!"
Soon, the crying man realized something: although he’d only achieved tier one of Spirit Stage, he was still a cultivator, and he tried to utilize his Qi to fend Fang Xing off.
Who would have imagined that Fang Xing had also reached the Spirit Stage by now and would use his Qi to counteract Yu Sanliang’s own? Fang Xing continued to land punches and kicks all over the plump man’s body while the daotongs watched on in horror.
Everyone—even the two daotongs Yu Sanliang had brought along—was stunned at the sight. The Qing-Yun Sect had never had a daotong beating on an outer court disciple before. Not only was there a strict hierarchy and set of rules in place, but all of the outer court disciples could use Qi to fend them off; with just a single flick of Qi, even the strongest daotong would be sent flying.
The two daotongs were so dazzled by what they were seeing that it took them several seconds before they came back to their senses. "Let go of Shixiong Yu!"
"Don’t you dare!" Fang Xing stood up straight and resonated his Qi, sending a coercive pressure over those two daotongs. One of them even began to shake uncontrollably in terror.
"Wang Zhi, Ghost-Face, Freckle-Boy, go tie those two up," Fang Xing ordered, grabbing as many magical herbs as he could from the field before throwing them right into the plump Daoist’s arms. "Mousy and Bowlegs, you two go to the Herb Department and tell them we’ve caught three thieves trying to steal from our herb field in broad daylight."
"Are… are you sure?" Wang Zhi asked, hesitating.
"What are you afraid of? Not only are they not even from the Herb Department, they weren’t ordered to come here, either. How dare they come here and mess around when it’s not even their territory? I bet those shixiongs from the Herb Department won’t be very happy about someone else butting into their business.
"Oh, and— who was it… Mousy! Don’t you have that gold hairpin? That keepsake between you and your fiancée? Pass it to him, too! Just tell them they came here demanding some magical herbs and we refused, so they decided they’d just take it anyway and wanted to extort us!"
"I… okay… but I can still have it back later, right?"
Finally understanding what Fang Xing had up his sleeve, the daotongs didn’t delay in tying them up while Mousy went to grab his gold hairpin. Bowlegs—the fastest of them all—was just getting ready to run off towards the Herb Department before Yu Sanliang let out a sound.
"W— Wait!"
In fact, hearing what Fang Xing’s plans were had caused Yu Sanliang’s heart to sink. Not only did he not belong to the Herb Department, there was no good reason for him to be here at all. Although trying to frame him and his two daotongs as thieves wouldn’t be very believable—nobody was stupid enough to rob from the sect in broad daylight—Yu Sanliang knew extortion between the disciples and daotongs was common.
The rules in the Qing-Yun Sect stipulated there was a chain of command to be followed, and those lower in the hierarchy had to provide for those higher up when ordered. However, this was only within their individual departments or areas of responsibility; one couldn’t throw out an order just because they were higher up in the overall hierarchy.
Even if Yu Sanliang told the truth, would he really be believed? Would they believe a ten-year-old daotong had the brains to think up such a complicated plan, tie him up like a rice dumpling, and then beat him so badly he was covered in blood? Besides, what would those shixiongs from his Miscellaneous Department think of him if they found out?
‘I must not let this turn into a big scene!’
Yu Sanliang had come to their herb field in the first place under the assumption Fang Xing wouldn’t dare to make a big scene out of this, but who would have imagined that not only did Fang Xing not mind making a scene, he’d nearly beat the life out of him as well? And all of those precious magic herbs, Fang Xing hadn’t hesitated at all to pull them out….
‘What a scary kid, he’s definitely way out of my league. Ah well….’ Yu Sanliang knew it was almost impossible to get out of his predicament, and it took only a few minutes for him to completely change his tune. "It was all a misunderstanding! We were only joking around with you. Let’s not worry those shixiongs from the Herb Department; they must all be very busy."
Everyone—aside from Fang Xing who had been waiting for this—was surprised at what they’d just heard.
Perhaps everything Fang Xing had ordered to the gang earlier had been purposefully aimed at Yu Sanliang. As if he’d already known this was going to happen, Fang Xing suddenly gave a broad smile and untied the plump Daoist, even going so far as to dust him off. "Oh dear, my bad, Shixiong Zhu, I didn’t know you were just playing around! You should have said so earlier! You’re not really hurt, are you?"
"My name isn’t Zhu, it’s Yu…."
Now seated upright and freed from the ropes, the plump Daoist had a sudden thought: ‘None of my wounds are that bad…. The only reason I lost last time was because of his sneak attack, but if I attack him now….’ While he was thinking such things, Yu Sanliang suddenly heard a bone-chilling murmur in his ear.
"You stupid fat pig, don’t get any funny ideas. If you do, we’ll see who has the last laugh."
Yu Sanliang suddenly felt a cold, sharp blade press in against his stubby neck. ‘This guy is definitely crazy!’ he thought to himself before relenting under his breath, "Fine, you win this time. But if I see you again…."
"Ah, yes, you will see me again, and pretty soon, too. It’s all thanks to you that I know I can definitely become an outer court disciple now."
Recalling how he couldn’t fend Fang Xing off even with his Qi, the plump Daoist’s heart sank further. "You… you’ve managed to circulate Qi as well?" he carefully asked.
"That’s right, it’s not like it’s hard or anything," Fang Xing openly boasted. "Tell me, what is considered to be Spirit Stage tier one?"
The plump Daoist bitterly closed his eyes, sighing out his regret shortly after. "How did I get myself into this…? Well, once your Qi has habituated itself to your meridians and you can easily circulate a full cycle without any blockage, you’re considered to have reached the first tier of Spirit Stage."
"What?" Fang Xing loudly exclaimed; he’d already reached this well over a month ago!
In fact, the road of cultivation was the most difficult in those periods before actually obtaining Qi and at the so-called "bottlenecks" found in the later stages, where the difficulty would suddenly spike. Once Qi had been obtained and the process was initiated, it was actually much easier than before. As long as someone got used to the movement of Qi, it was only a matter of days before they were able to complete a full cycle.
All daotongs in the past would usually notify the sect as soon as they’d managed to open their pores to Qi, but Fang Xing had seen the strength belonging to a core disciple and overestimated the abilities of someone in only the first tier of Spirit Stage. Unfortunately, his Book of Revelation was of no use here, either—he himself was the only thing it couldn’t appraise.
"Argh, I need to wash my face…." The plump Daoist’s eyes were so swollen he had trouble even just opening them.
As though only now remembering the plump Daoist was there, Fang Xing kicked the nearby Wang Zhi and gave an order: "What are you doing still standing here! Can’t you see Shixiong Zhu is in need of some water to wash his face? Freckle-Boy, don’t just stand there, go and grab some meat for us! Oh, and there should be a few jugs of good wine beneath Wang Zhi’s bed—grab them too. I’m going to celebrate with Shixiong Zhu tonight!"
"My name is Yu… Not Zhu…."
After Wang Zhi returned with water for the plump Daoist, he turned to Fang Xing, confused. "How did you know I had four jugs of wine under my bed?"
"You mean three jugs?" Fang Xing sneered in return, silently thinking, ‘Who in their right mind hides good stuff under his bed?’
Understanding beginning to dawn on him, Wang Zhi cried out before running towards his room to check on his precious collection of wines.
The only thing the plump Daoist wanted to do after washing his face was leave, but Fang Xing and the rest of the daotongs had already prepared all the meat and wine for him. They practically had to force him to take a seat, but it didn’t take too much time before Yu Sanliang gave in to the temptation of all the food and wine laid out in front of him.
The plump Daoist might have been a bully, but he wasn’t stupid; he knew that even though Fang Xing was just a little kid, being capable enough to become boss of this herb field in a matter of days—coupled with the fact he’d completed the first cycle of Qi—meant he would become an outer court disciple anytime now. Since they would be seeing each other more often, there was no meaning in staying on his bad side any longer.
‘Relentless and bold. No one wants an enemy like that….’
With these kinds of thoughts, the plump Daoist had actually decided to take this opportunity to befriend Fang Xing instead. After all three jugs of wine had left the two of them red-faced and cheerful, it even nearly looked as though they’d been best friends since the day they were born. The magic herbs once meant to frame Yu Sanliang were now somehow planted back in the field. Although they looked only half-alive, it wasn’t always unusual to have dead herbs each month; as long as the vast majority were still alive and well, there wouldn’t be a problem.
By nightfall, Fang Xing had learned as much as he needed to know and confirmed it with the plump Daoist once more. "So, as long as I ring that bell at the top of that peak, I’ll be able to become an outer court disciple?"
"That’s right, my brother! Do it first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll be waiting to celebrate it with you right after!"
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