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!"
Tens of thousands of daotongs were recruited each year to help maintain the two thousand acres of fields owned by the Qing-Yun Sect, and each of them received a Qing-Yun’s Qi Formation manual upon recruitment. They wouldn’t be given any teachings or assistance, but there was always one or two who would manage to cultivate traces of Qi through either their wits or simply sheer luck.
To the rest of the daotongs, these people were considered geniuses favored by the gods.
"My dear brothers, I’m off! Let’s drink again when I come back for a visit!"
In the early morning, Fang Xing had already packed his cloth-bundle and was saying his goodbyes to everyone at their C-Rank herb field.
All five of the daotongs—Wang Zhi, Freckle-Boy, Ghost-Face, Mousy, and Bowlegs—stood at the front of the wooden cabin in quiet admiration. It had been beyond their wildest imaginations that this child they once thought cruel beyond his years would become an outer court disciple, and all within a matter of months of his arrival.
They had seen how Fang Xing worked so hard in meditating and practicing the manual, but this was considered normal—a short-lived phase of enthusiasm. People would eventually accept their fate and give up on the fantasy of becoming a cultivator to settle down as an ordinary person. No one knew Fang Xing had already achieved the first tier of Spirit Stage until the night before, when he announced he would ring the Samsara Bell.
"Boss! I knew you weren’t some ordinary person like us! When you do become an outer court disciple… please don’t forget us, your brothers," Wang Zhi said sincerely while struggling not to cry. Freckle-Boy, on the other hand, had already burst out into tears.
"Stop being such a crybaby! Your boss isn’t dying; I’m just getting a promotion for god’s sake! You dumbasses just remember what I told you last night about the weed. I worked hard on figuring this all out so you better keep it a secret, but as long as you do as I’ve told you, I’ll be your boss again when you come and join me in the outer court!"
All of them showed disbelief and hesitation when the Hwa’jin method was mentioned. "But it’s… well, the method you told us… it’s a bit... bizarre. We’ll remember it, though!"
Fang Xing smiled. He’d already told them everything he figured out about using energy from Jing to transform and guide Qi into the meridians and step into Spirit Stage; whether they believed it or not was up to them.
"Alright, my brothers, I’m off now! See all of you later!" After waving his hands, Fang Xing turned his back and walked towards the paved paths leading into the depths of the back mountain.
"Best wishes to you, Boss Fang Xing!" All of the boys had emotional expressions, each of them seeming saddened by Fang Xing’s departure. As Fang Xing’s silhouette disappeared into the distance, however, all of the daotongs straightened their backs in relief and wiped the tears from their eyes. They looked at each other, and a sigh rang out almost in unison.
"That monster is finally gone!"
"I haven’t had a good sleep in the past few months he’s been here…."
"Thank the heavens! Maybe our lives can finally go back to normal again…."
—
Completely unaware of what the daotongs were saying behind his back, Fang Xing walked along the path towards the back mountain of the sect. From here, it was also possible to appreciate just how vast the Qing-Yun Sect really was. Mystical fog cascaded slowly along the mountain, but a gentle blow of wind would cause the fog to disappear and beautiful temples to be revealed.
The fields only went as far as the foot of the mountain, while pine trees and stone stairs led up to the quaint pavilion at its peak. Inside was a large bronze bell covered in moss, and as Fang Xing approached the top of the pavilion, he saw a plaque:
Upon the bell’s toll
A life ends to start anew
Soar up high and far
"I wonder if this is it?" Fang Xing muttered to himself, walking up to the pavilion before gently stroking the moss-covered bell. "So this must be the Samsara Bell I need to ring in order to become an outer court disciple."
As soon as Fang Xing confirmed it was the right place, he gave the bell a push.
Nothing.
Confused, Fang Xing concentrated on the bell and activated his Book of Revelation.
‘Samsara Bell. Low-grade spirit tool. Can only be activated through Qi. The sound of its ring extends over three miles….’
"I see how it is now. Qing-Yun and immortality, here I come! And Xiao Jianming, you better watch out; the tenth bandit of Guiyan Valley is finally here!" Taking a deep breath, Fang Xing circulated some Qi into his dantian before releasing it towards the bell all in one go.
HUUUUUUUM….
The bronze bell rang out with a low and deep sound, startling a flock of birds and causing them to fly off.
HUUUUUUUM….
HUUUUUUUM….
After three chimes, Fang Xing quietly stood to the side and patiently waited for someone to come and fetch him.
"The bell chimes again, has another daotong managed to cultivate Qi?"
"I wonder if it’s someone with really good talent or just another one with dumb luck."
The bell could be heard across the Qing-Yun Sect. Naps were disturbed, some showed interest, others laughed in disdain, and others ignored it altogether to return to their sleep.
Within seconds, a silhouette could be seen flying towards the pavilion, belonging to a thin man with fair skin donning the cyan robes of the sect. His hair was neatly arranged with a wooden hair clasp, giving him a dashing appearance at odds with his expressionless, corpse-like face.
The young man came up to Fang Xing and checked him from top to bottom before coldly speaking, "So you’re the one that rang the bell? What is your name?"
"Esteemed Shixiong, my name is Fang Xing. I’m a daotong from the C-Rank herb fields, and I am pleased to meet you," Fang Xing answered politely unlike his typical self. Through his Book of Revelation, he’d seen that the man had already reached the fourth tier of Spirit Stage.
"Good. Come with me." The young man—satisfied with Fang Xing’s manners—nodded before grabbing his arm and storming towards another peak.
The speed was so fast that all Fang Xing could feel was the frigid wind cutting at his skin as the thin man pulled him along. ‘What is this? Trying to show off—’ as Fang Xing thought to himself, he suddenly remembered that he, too, could use Qi to fend off the wind. Once Fang Xing began utilizing his Qi, he could finally open his eyes again, and he could see that they were traveling at an exceptional speed towards one of the sect’s seven tallest mountain peaks.
The thin man finally came to a halt, his hands folded as he moved to politely stand in front of a garret room. "Elder Gao, he’s here."
"Let him in," an aged voice ordered. The door opened, and the thin man gave Fang Xing a slight push to send him tumbling into the room.
"Sh*t! How dare you push me—" Fang Xing unconsciously released a loud curse before feeling the gaze of another upon him.
"How did you manage to cultivate Qi?" that same aged voice sounded again, though this time it felt as though the words was reverberating directly inside his mind.
Fang Xing turned around to see an ordinary man with wrinkles all over his face and white hair laid neatly on either side of his shoulders. A shadow hid half of the aged man’s face—making him seem even more mysterious to Fang Xing’s gaze—but his eyes were extremely bright. They were unfitting of a man his age, and it felt as though they had the ability to see through every lie.
‘Eh? I can’t see his cultivation stage.’ Fang Xing had sneakily tried to gauge the old man only to find out the Book of Revelation couldn’t get any information out of him.
A small amount of Qi was required when the Book of Revelation was activated for appraisals, and this was especially so for people. The higher the subject’s cultivation stage, the greater the amount of necessary Qi. In this case, even if Fang Xing were to use all the Qi he’d accumulated, it would still not be enough to appraise the old man.
Put simply, this old man was well beyond what Fang Xing could even comprehend.
Assuming the old man would see through him if he lied, Fang Xing decided to tell the truth. "I... I ate the Hwa’jin weed."
"Another one," the old man sighed out, disappointed. "Well, I guess it must be fate that you discovered the weed’s use. You are now an outer court disciple; take this token as proof of your status to Qing-Mu Hall and someone will be there to help you with your accommodations."
Seeming dissatisfied, the old man threw a small, dark wooden block towards Fang Xing after telling him to leave. A drop of Fang Xing’s blood was fused into the block with a few words carved into the wood.
"That’s it?" Fang Xing stood in disbelief outside of the garret as the door closed shut behind him. He hadn’t thought it would be that easy.
‘What he said… does that mean a lot of people already know about the usage of Hwa’jin?’ Fang Xing wondered confusedly before flipping his wooden block. Carved on the back in bold was a single letter: D.
Whatever this meant, it couldn’t be good. Even the herb fields were graded using this system, with Fang Xing’s herb field ranked "C". With only four total ranks in the sect, it had been the second worst quality.
As for the Hwa’jin, what Fang Xing didn’t know was that its usage had been well-researched and was common knowledge among the elders of the sect. The reason no one else of the lower ranks knew anything about it was because the elders had purposefully not allowed it to spread, as they didn’t want an influx of low-aptitude disciples.
After all, even if those people did manage to step into the Spirit Stage, they would most likely remain in the lower tiers to the day they died.
Despite this, the elders also believed in fate. If someone was able to discover this secret by themselves, they might be either extremely lucky or highly intelligent and able to persevere through hardship. In the world of cultivation, these qualities were often found in those who tended to go further than others.
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