"Very well."
Jiang Ling nodded. "Considering this is your first offense, this shall be a minor punishment to teach you a lesson. You will still complete the mission, but your contribution points will be cut in half! Any further disobedience, and you will be expelled from the sect!"
With that, he lifted the pressure.
Thud!
The moment the oppressive force vanished, Hua Yuntian's strength gave out entirely. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, his clothes soaked through with sweat, every muscle in his body trembling uncontrollably.
A cold, tidal wave of post-calamity fear crashed over his mind again and again.
He lay there, staring blankly at the white clouds in the sky, his thoughts in utter turmoil.
This Primordial Beginning Sect was strange at every turn, unfathomable to the core!
Was that mortal sect master really as simple as he appeared?
And that immortal formation—what rank of power could it possibly be? To wield such terrifying divine might and strength...
And that damned chicken! What kind of creature was it, that even he, a former Tribulation Transcending Ancestor, couldn't escape its pecks and chases?
Countless questions and deep wariness roiled in Hua Yuntian's heart. His proud life experience and knowledge from his past life felt utterly feeble in the face of this dilapidated sect.
But this time, beyond the humiliation, there was a cold, sharp warning.
"When my Dao foundation is perfected, I will repay this humiliation a hundredfold!"
He stood up and silently pulled an ordinary iron hoe from his storage bag— a tool he'd prepared for planting spiritual herbs himself, never thinking it would be used for this.
Gripping the rough, cold farm implement, Hua Yuntian felt his dignity as a Tribulation Transcending powerhouse be crushed completely, ground into the charred soil beneath his feet, and trampled over and over again.
But he had no choice.
What followed was a scene of bustling industry at the back mountain of Primordial Beginning Sect.
Every single person labored tirelessly to reclaim the wasteland—even Jincancan. With every flap of its golden wings, great clods of earth were sent flying, its efficiency astounding.
On the other side, Hua Yuntian's face was as dark as storm clouds, swinging his hoe until sweat poured down his brow. His movements were clumsy and stiff, every strike filled with world-destroying killing intent, as if he were not digging soil, but hacking at Jiang Ling's head.
Soil was turned over, stones and tree roots pried out with great effort, ash smudging his fine silk robe and handsome face. A proud reincarnated Tribulation Transcending powerhouse, reduced to a ragged farmhand toiling under a greedy landlord.
Landlord Jiang lounged comfortably on a stool at the hall's entrance, cracking spiritual sunflower seeds as he supervised the disciples' work, occasionally offering "kind" pointers:
"Second brother, steady your movements, unite your waist and stance.
Yes, just like that—feel the pulse of the earth.
This is called Hoeing grain under the midday sun, sweat dripping into the soil below. It grounds you, far better than meditating in your room."
"Hey, that stone's too big—go around it, or pry it loose with skill, not brute force. Reckless effort harms the body, disciple.
Remember, use your brain. It's a useful thing."
"Dig the irrigation ditch deeper, or the water won't flow through. This is called When the water comes, the channel forms—it's also a form of cultivation!
Much smoother than your closed-door Qi Refining.
Look at your senior brother—even turning over soil makes a bigger splash than you!
What do you do in a situation like this?
If it doesn't kill you, work you to the bone!
You don't want people laughing and saying you're worse than a chicken, do you?"
Listening to the endless prattling behind him, every word a jab comparing him to a chicken, Hua Yuntian's temples throbbed with bulging veins, his lungs ready to burst with rage!
He could only swing his hoe harder, imagining the charred soil beneath his feet was Jiang Ling's infuriating face, every strike filled with bitter hatred.
That night, Hua Yuntian returned to his room and silently pulled out the Basic Qi Circulation Art—the book he'd cast aside like trash—from the deepest corner of his storage bag.
Its cover was rough, its handwriting clumsy.
He stared at the book, his eyes a whirlwind of complex emotions.
Perhaps he'd been wrong all along?
Was this shoddy technique really just garbage?
Or was it a test from this bizarre sect?
With an unprecedented gravity, and a hint of awe he refused to acknowledge, he slowly flipped open the pages.
This time, he did not read it with the eyes of a former Tribulation Transcending powerhouse.
Instead, like a truly ignorant disciple who had just stepped onto the immortal path—with curiosity and a trace of fear of the unknown power—he began to read every single character carefully.
...
The sky grew dark.
Hua Yuntian sat on the floor, his back against the cold wall, poring over the Basic Qi Circulation Art in his hands, word by word, line by line.
His brows furrowed tight at first, then lifted in confusion, and finally knotted together completely, a deep frown etched on his face.
No hidden mysteries.
No secret codes.
Not a single trace of concealed profundity.
This was a genuine Middle-Tier Yellow Rank Qi circulation technique—nothing more, nothing less.
Its content was simple and straightforward, teaching only the most basic methods of drawing in qi, guiding it through the meridians, and returning it to the dantian. It did not even have a fancy name, let alone any profound artistic conception.
Its only merit, perhaps, was that it was basic enough—perfect for a true beginner.
"Heh..."
Hua Yuntian let out a cold laugh, filled with bitter self-mockery, his fingers whitening as he clenched the pages tight.
An overwhelming sense of being tricked and stifled clogged his chest.
The pressure of the immortal formation had been real. The fear of death had been real.
But this Basic Qi Circulation Art—it was just an ordinary, shoddy technique.
That damned old dog Jiang Ling! He was nothing but a jackal hiding behind the power of that bizarre immortal formation!
A surge of unbridled anger rushed to his head, and Hua Yuntian almost tore the book to shreds.
But the crushing, divine pressure of the immortal formation held him back, making him dare not act rashly.
"Hu..."
Hua Yuntian let out a long, heavy breath, forcing the bitter anger back into the deepest recesses of his heart.
He would remember this humiliation.
Until he had enough power to topple that immortal formation, he would lie low and endure.
"Jiang Ling, you'd better pray that immortal formation never fails."
He muttered to himself, his eyes dark and cold as a deep pool. The earlier self-mockery and stifled rage were gone, replaced by a cold, almost ruthless calm.
He tossed the book aside casually, closed his eyes once more, and began to circulate his past-life Nine-Revolution Mystic Origin Art.
This time, his mind was more focused than ever, like the most precise instrument, tempering every inch of the foundation of this body with unwavering attention.
As he gathered his strength, he also kept his eyes wide open, observing every strange detail of this bizarre sect closely.
While Jiang Ling directed the disciples in their frantic wasteland reclamation, on the other side of the Primordial Beginning Mountains, deep within the Vast Mist Ridge.
Here, mountain ranges stretched endlessly, demonic energy billowed to the heavens, ancient trees towered into the sky, their canopies blotting out the sun, and exotic flowers and herbs exuded an aura that was both dangerous and alluring.
Inside a cave mansion forged from massive obsidian—rough and imposing—the atmosphere was as oppressive as the hush before a violent storm.
On a throne in the center of the cave sat a towering, mountainous figure. He wore heavy black scale armor, his face chiseled and resolute as if carved from stone, and his entire body exuded a terrifying, bloodthirsty demonic aura.
This was the Black Rock Demon Lord—one of the Eight Great Demon Lords of the Vast Mist Ridge, famous for his indomitable defense and overwhelming strength.
And he was also the father of the Black Bear Demon King, who had been slain by the immortal formation!