Chapter Thirty-Nine: Temptation with Profit

After seeing Cai Old Nine off, Qin Ming closed the courtyard gate and fell into deep thought on his own.

He had not expected that the Lingyu Sect’s teleportation array would be repaired so quickly. Given the current situation, his own position was becoming increasingly precarious.

Now, Qin Ming was living under someone else's roof, serving as a menial laborer within Lingyu Sect. Everything was out of his control, and he was restrained at every turn by the sect. The decisions of the sect's upper echelon could change at a moment’s notice: one day, you might be dragged off to the war camps at the front lines as cannon fodder; the next, you’re forbidden from privately selling spiritual rice.

In peacetime, they squeeze you dry; in war, they use your life! These sects didn’t see spiritual farmers like him as people at all—they were treated like beasts of burden.

On top of that, the world of cultivation was ever-shifting and treacherous. Though the Lingyu Sect and Golden Cloud Valley seemed to be on friendly terms now, who could say that one day, for the sake of resources in the Cloud Marsh Wilds, they wouldn’t turn on each other at the drop of a hat and go to war without warning?

When that day came, it would be the lowest-ranking cultivators like him who suffered first.

The war camps at the front had been fighting those barbarian cultivators for years with no progress, gaining nothing and only incurring heavy losses. What did this say? The natives deep within the Cloud Marsh Wilds were not so easily subdued by the likes of Lingyu Sect and Golden Cloud Valley. If the natives managed to strike back, things would turn truly dire.

“I have to start making plans early.” Qin Ming’s gaze flickered. The desire to break away from Lingyu Sect was growing ever stronger within him.

“Running away directly isn’t very realistic. I still need to find a way to be released from servitude and regain my freedom.”

He pondered for a while. To be freed from Lingyu Sect’s menial service, one had to fulfill one of three conditions set by the sect.

The first was to reach the Foundation Establishment stage in cultivation—Qin Ming dismissed this outright; there was no way he could achieve Foundation Establishment in a short time.

The second was to hand over any one resource that assisted in Foundation Establishment—he set this aside too, as he didn’t possess any such rare resource, let alone have any to hand over.

After much consideration, Qin Ming found the third condition far more attainable: to master any one of the Hundred Cultivator Arts to the second tier.

Currently, he was already a mid-grade first-tier spiritual planter and expected to advance to high-grade first-tier next year. With his special attribute, he felt he had a good chance of breaking through to the second tier.

Still, he didn’t yet know what the requirements were for advancing to second-tier spiritual planter. He’d have to go to the Steward's Hall to inquire in the coming days.

With that thought, Qin Ming’s gaze became resolute—he had already made up his mind about his future plans.

He then began to carefully consider how to handle the sale of Beast Fang Rice next year.

Time passed swiftly, and more than half a month went by.

As expected, just as Cai Old Nine had said, during the spring planting, Steward Gu came with others to the spiritual fields and announced a ban on private sales of spiritual rice. This new order was a heavy blow to the spiritual farmers.

That year, Qin Ming still planted Golden Spirit Rice on his three acres of spiritual fields. He then performed the advanced Spiritual Rain Technique, bringing down a nourishing rain.

…

After finishing his work in the fields, Qin Ming returned to his courtyard and resumed the relentless daily grind of cultivation.

Under the accumulation of vast amounts of top-grade Blood Locust Rice, his body cultivation method, the "Baibao Glazed Scripture," was forcefully pushed to the peak of the sixth layer. The five [Faint Vitality] and two [Abundant Vitality] attributes in his spiritual sea had all been consumed through training.

Even with such an accumulation of vital energy, he still could not break through to the seventh layer of body cultivation. This alone spoke to the terrifying amount of vital energy resources required for the latter stages of the "Baibao Glazed Scripture."

As for his magical cultivation, Qin Ming could now refine Qi Condensing Pills on his own. Though the pills were far less effective than Spirit Gathering Pills, his internal spiritual power was steadily increasing.

One day, while Qin Ming was cultivating, the restriction formation outside his gate rippled.

He ended his practice, rose, and glanced out through the door.

He recognized the newcomer. The man wore a wooden crown, his hair bound, a jade belt at his waist, skin fair, features haughty, eyes slightly swollen from fatigue, and he kept yawning. He was at the seventh layer of the Qi Refining stage, a bit short in stature, dressed in the blue inner sect robes of Lingyu Sect.

Though clearly from a wealthy family, it was obvious that he indulged far too frequently in the pleasures of the brothels.

This was the same short cultivator who, that day on the street among Jiang Kun’s group, had helped snatch an old man’s treasure. Perhaps after following Jiang Kun for so long, he had grown just as arrogant as his master.

Qin Ming frowned at the sight of him, inwardly cursing his bad luck. Still, he braced himself and opened the door—the man was, after all, from Lingyu Sect.

“Oh, Daoist Qin, is it?” the visitor exclaimed. “I am Chen Zi’ang of Lingyu Sect. I heard you were recently promoted to mid-grade spiritual planter? Congratulations!”

“Senior Brother Jiang would like you to join him for a drink at Mingzhen Pavilion. Daoist Qin, would you do us the honor?”

Chen Zi’ang, uncharacteristically polite, wore a beaming smile and extended an earnest invitation.

Qin Ming knew instantly that he had no choice in the matter—it was impossible to refuse.

“Since Senior Brother Jiang has invited me, then please, lead the way, Daoist Chen.”

After all, Qingyang Market was under the jurisdiction of Lingyu Sect; people like Jiang Kun wouldn’t dare do anything too outrageous out in the open. Besides, the market was a tangled web of competing powers, and even core members of Lingyu Sect had to show some restraint—Mirror Snow Pavilion was one such force.

…

“Daoist Qin, a pleasure indeed.” In the private room of Mingzhen Pavilion, Jiang Kun—the core disciple of Lingyu Sect—sat resplendent in a blue robe embroidered with gold, his bearing proud and imposing. His phoenix eyes gazed at Qin Ming with a smile.

“Senior Brother Jiang, may I ask—” Qin Ming began.

“No rush, no rush. First, have a taste of this fine spirit-grain wine.” Jiang Kun produced two white jade cups, personally poured wine for Qin Ming, then filled his own and raised it in a toast before downing it in one go.

Qin Ming, taken aback by this hospitality, felt almost flattered. He picked up his cup without hesitation, draining it in a single gulp. His cultivation in the "Baibao Glazed Scripture" rendered him immune to poison, so he had no fear that anything had been slipped into the wine.

The spirit-grain wine glided down his throat—fragrant, mellow, and fiery, spiritual energy lingering on the palate. Truly excellent wine.

“Daoist Qin, you certainly are a man of forthright character,” Jiang Kun remarked, a barely perceptible flicker of surprise in his eyes. Then he smiled. “About last time, I fear there was a misunderstanding. When I was at the Steward’s Hall, I was in a rush to get a slot for my followers and may have spoken too harshly. I hope you’ll not take it to heart.”

Qin Ming forced a smile, replying with polite detachment, “Senior Brother Jiang, you jest. If you hadn’t brought it up, I’d have already forgotten.”

“Then I’ve been overly concerned. You’re so magnanimous, Daoist Qin—I must drink another as a forfeit.” With that, Jiang Kun filled his cup again and drained it.

Afterward, Jiang Kun chatted with him about recent events: the cultivation of spiritual rice, lavishing praise on Qin Ming’s promotion to mid-grade spiritual planter, and even mentioning his connections with Mirror Snow Pavilion.

Qin Ming responded as the situation required: saying what could be said, skirting around what couldn’t. Had he not recently seen Jiang Kun’s true nature with his own eyes, he might have truly believed this man was a virtuous, approachable senior disciple.

After several rounds of drinks, Jiang Kun, still smiling, took a delicate jade box from his storage pouch and pushed it toward Qin Ming.

“A small token—please accept it, Daoist Qin.”

Qin Ming was at a loss for words at this gesture.

“Senior Brother Jiang, what’s the meaning of this?” he asked, puzzled, as he opened the jade box.

The contents left him deeply moved.

Inside were five perfectly round, radiant spirit stones, their dazzling light and dense spiritual energy palpable even from a distance. They were mid-grade spirit stones! Each one could be exchanged for a hundred low-grade stones, sometimes even more. This was equivalent to over five hundred spirit stones.

In addition, the box contained an exquisite porcelain bottle. Qin Ming uncorked it and was met by a rich, invigorating scent of pills. Inside was a single deep blue pill, spinning gently.

He knew this pill all too well—he’d once watched Su Yuqing refine one herself.

“A post-Qi Refining breakthrough pill—Marrow Cleansing Pill!”

PS: Thank you to everyone who voted for the story this month—my deepest gratitude!