Without a cultivation technique driving him to madness, Kan was able to demonstrate his true combat skills. He might not have had any useful talents to assist him, but years of training—as well as whatever instincts and abilities he retained from his life as Liang—allowed him to face YuLong on nearly equal footing.

What set Kan apart wasn’t talent or luck. It was a sheer, unyielding stubbornness that allowed him to push himself further than any sane person would dare. When he was full of energy, he was down in the sparring room, and when he was tired, he cultivated. He only rested when his body failed him completely.

Sadly, though, no matter how hard Kan pushed himself, he wasn’t able to overcome the tyranny of the world’s Laws. With each passing day, YuLong’s blessing deepened his understanding of the guandao, and the gap between the two of them only grew wider. When we had first arrived at the Broken Spear Outpost, YuLong had held a slight advantage over the boy, but by the end of the first week, he shone like the sun beside Kan’s moon.

This wasn’t necessarily a problem. It might limit Kan’s ability to become a peerless warrior, but as his talent for qi developed into a proper affinity, he would be able to cultivate just as well as anyone else.

Still, this was an unnecessary handicap to a core member of my new sect and clan. So, since the presence of Kan and JiuLi indicated that certain purchases were ‘permanent’ and would transfer over to their future reincarnations, I decided to fix it.

“System, increase Kan’s martial, guandao, lightning, and karmic energy talents by 50 credits each.”

Purchase confirmed. Cost 200 credits.

With this purchase, worth less than one percent of my current balance, I gained a talented subordinate who would easily be able to charge all the way to the Peak of Martial Sovereign. In a way, one might even call him ‘blessed.’

JiuLi, meanwhile, was having a much more difficult time of things. With no prior training, her combat skills were almost nonexistent, and unlike Kan, she had little interest in spending countless hours in the training room. At first, she had been excited to start cultivating. But after only a few days of relentless drills and meditation, she was already going stir-crazy.

To help with this, I let her spend a few hours each day exploring the Plane of Woody Earth with YuHua, which seemed to lift her spirits, but this was only a temporary fix. If JiuLi kept slacking off, she’d only be creating greater problems for herself later on. So, during our third day at the inn, I sat her down for a private talk.

“JiuLi, what do you want?” I asked gently.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking between the weapon at her side and the floor beneath her feet. “I don’t know. I know I’m supposed to help my clan. I know I need to learn the guandao. But…” Her fingers twisted together, knuckles whitening. “I don’t enjoy fighting. I never have.”

Her words trailed off, uncertain and fragile. Turmoil flickered behind her eyes as the instincts she carried from her life as ShouLi warred against the memories and experiences she’d gained as JiuLi.

“Set aside what you should do,” I said, keeping my voice low and steady. “Forget duty, forget expectation. What do you, JiuLi, want? What does it look like?”

She bit her lip, brow furrowing as she searched for the answer. “I… don’t know,” she whispered again, though this time, her voice wavered with something akin to nostalgia. “I want to go back to weaving. During my time in the Shi Clan, I spent all my time behind the loom.”

She gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh. “It was mundane work, I suppose, but… I enjoyed it.”

I nodded, the corners of my mouth lifting ever so slightly. “A successful sect needs more than warriors. Your Legacy should have taught you this. If you want to become a weaver, then I will help you with this, but understand, being a weaver doesn’t mean that you have to be ordinary.”

Coming to a decision, I scanned the room with both my space affinity and energy vision to ensure that we weren’t being spied upon. Then, satisfied, I reached into my inner world, to where the Shi Clan resided, and withdrew bundles of dried hemp, spools of undyed thread, and wooden machines designed to process hemp and weave it together.

Once this was all in place, with the various machines taking up most of our common room, I looked aside and began subvocalizing.

“System, increase JiuLi’s talent for weaving by 50 credits.”

Unable to purchase such an enhancement with credits.

While unfortunate, I couldn’t say that this response was unexpected. So, I moved on to the next option.

“Alright, then increase JiuLi’s guandao, wood, refining, and karmic energy talents by 50 credits each.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Purchase confirmed. Cost 200 credits.

The wood and refining talents would be enough to let JiuLi become a ‘blessed’ weaver, but to succeed in the Heroes Domain, she still needed to learn how to wield a guandao. With any luck, though, my concept of an “Amorphous Blade” would be successful, and she would be able to use her guandao in her crafting pursuits.

The last of our companions in need of assistance was Meng LuYao. Not long after we first met, I gave LuYao a light affinity and low-level comprehensions in both illusions and cultivation. Since then, I had boosted this illusion comprehension, bringing it up to a more respectable level, but the light affinity and cultivation comprehension still lagged behind.

Unfortunately, though, unlike JiuLi and Kan, I couldn’t give Meng LuYao any permanentboosts without returning to my original reset point. So, I needed to be more judicious with what I gave her.

Before making any decisions, I needed to know what she wanted out of this life. So, I took her aside for a private conversation, much like I had with JiuLi. However, when I asked about her goals, she only gave a small shrug and laughed

“Honestly, Fang, I’m good with whatever. YuLong’s helping Kan, right? Why don’t I help out JiuLi? I might not know anything about weaving, but I should still be able to point her in the right direction.”

I smiled faintly and nodded. “If that’s what you want. Any talents you think you’ll need?”

Tapping her fingers in thought, Meng LuYao gave me a curious look. “Yeah… First, though, why did you give JiuLi a wood talent? If she’s going to be a refiner, wouldn’t metal make more sense?”

“Maybe, but she plans to craft clothing, not weapons. She could try weaving metal threads together, like LiTing, but her clan usually works with hemp. Given that, wood seemed like the better choice.”

Meng LuYao dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Understood. Then my second question—how many elements can we cultivate at once? As members of your sect, we’re expected to cultivate guandao qi, right? But could I also cultivate light and dark qi?”

“Not right now. Cultivating weapon qi doesn’t change much. Yellow-Rank techniques let you use one element, Profound-Rank techniques let you use two, and with Earth-Rank techniques you can use three. I’ve managed to collect a fair number of Profound-Rank manuals, but the all Earth-Rank techniques I have focus on saber energy. Once we start earning contribution points, we should be able to buy more advanced techniques from the Bureau, but if not, we can always look into developing our own.”

“Alright, then go ahead and give me light, dark, guandao, and refining. Maybe I can help make JiuLi’s clothes a little more colorful.”

I was willing to let JiuLi and Kan develop their affinities naturally, since this would hopefully lead to them becoming permanent. For Meng LuYao, however, everything was temporary by default, so I decided not to waste credits on low level affinities.

“System, give Meng LuYao temporary peak four-star affinities in light, dark, wood, refining, illusions, and the guandao.”

Purchase confirmed. Cost 1 credit.

LuYao hadn’t asked for that wood affinity, but it was free, and it might be of use while working with JiuLi.

“Next, give LuYao 20 credits worth of talent in light, dark, refining, illusions, and the guandao.”

Purchase confirmed. Cost 100 credits. 58,989 credits remaining.

For Meng LuYao, this boost was only temporary, but the effects of the boost had the potential to affect my clan for several lifetimes to come.

Over the next several days, our group settled into a steady rhythm of cultivation, sparring, and rest, with one day each week set aside to relax on the Plane of Woody Earth. Meng LuYao and JiuLi spent much of their so-called “sparring time” practicing their weaving techniques, but they still joined us in the training room for at least an hour a day. There, YuLong, Kan, and I passed on everything that we had managed to figure out about wielding the guandao properly.

While it would have been a good idea to bring in a weapons instructor who actually knew what they were doing, as a First-Class sect, we could only hire such trainers with contribution points, and we couldn’t earn contribution points without going on missions.

Even so, as time passed, we slowly improved, both in our combat skills and in our cultivation bases, and after two months of hard work, we had all reached Martial Disciple 5. However, this was where the wall appeared. Advancing any further without formations or Attunement Pills proved nearly impossible. The incredibly impure qi within our bodies created a powerful repulsive force, preventing us from drawing in the energy we needed for future advancements.

If we wanted to move forward, we would have to fix this, but before we could do so, we would need to venture beyond the walls of our sanctuary. We would need to go on a mission.

We moved openly through the outpost on our way back to the Bureau, no longer bothering with subtlety. While we weren’t yet the strongest cultivators in the outpost, the white sashes at our waists made us untouchable. Only Martial Disciples were allowed to challenge us, and now that YuLong and I had access to qi, not even a full team of them would stand a chance against us.

Upon entering the Sect Affairs Bureau, we walked to a desk on the right side of the room, across from the one where we had registered our sect. There, I lifted the massive tome that contained all of the missions available to us, and as a team, we scanned through it, looking for a quick way to generate contribution points.

A neighboring desk held a similar ledger that contained a wide variety of crafting assignments, but we chose to leave that book untouched. While I could easily generate any number of contribution points just by performing a bit of basic alchemy, my companions needed some time outdoors, and now that we were officially cultivators again, there was nothing stopping us from doing a bit of exploration.

After flipping through several pages, I spotted three missions from the same village. Two of them were for eliminating a few low-level bandits, but the third one…

Kan leaned over my shoulder. “A flowerpicker? Seriously? They’re hiring cultivators for that? Did he rob someone’s herb garden?”

Hearing this the clerk burst into laughter, while YuLong and I gave the kid a look of pity.

“Not herbs,” I said, measuring my words carefully. “The ‘flowers’ are young women. A flowerpicker is someone who…”

I trailed off, hoping Kan would get my meaning, but the confusion in his eyes didn’t abate, so YuLong had to lean in and whisper something into his ear.

Suddenly, Kan’s eyes widened in anger. “Yes, good. That’s the mission.”

As Kan turned, clearly eager to head out, I slid all three mission slips across the desk to the clerk. If we were going to that village anyway, we might as well make it worth our time.