Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Yanfu Vast Land, Ruling the World with the Dao

Beimang Ridge, Qianji Sect.

The sky had just begun to brighten when Jiang Yi rose early in the Big Mixed Courtyard, halfway up Red Flame Peak.

The late autumn chill had grown heavier. Though it had not yet snowed, a row of icicles already hung from the eaves.

Jiang Yi, wrapped in a dusty gray cotton Daoist Robe, bent over to wash up. He scooped a ladle of bone-chilling water from the vat and splashed it on his face.

HISS!

A shiver ran through him, instantly waking him up.

Yesterday, he had once again toiled for twelve to fourteen hours in the Quenching Room. The place was thick with smoke and fire that made his eyes water and his skin flush red. It was truly grueling work.

By the time he got off work, it was already past the Hour of the Ox.

Jiang Yi had only downed a pot of cool tea before hastily going to sleep. Now, he was famished and exhausted.

“Brother Yi, when did you get back last night? I didn’t even see you.”

Someone pushed open the door of the next room. It was He the Venerable, who lived with Jiang Yi in the Big Mixed Courtyard.

“I worked until the Hour of the Ox. You were all asleep by then.”

Jiang Yi rubbed his face hard. His skin stung faintly, as if it were sunburned.

He the Venerable tutted twice.

“Brother Yi, you work yourself too hard. Working an extra four hours won’t earn you that many Talisman Coins.”

Jiang Yi’s face was flushed, but he flashed a grin, revealing a set of white teeth.

“The Marshal was pushing us hard. Normally it’s twenty Talisman Coins per two-hour shift, but yesterday he was feeling unusually generous and gave us eighty.”

He the Venerable pursed his lips. A hundred and sixty Talisman Coins was certainly a lot, but the conditions in the Quenching Room were torture. With seven or eight furnaces burning day and night, even staying for just a short while would make one’s head spin. Not even a man of iron could stand it for long.

Besides, this Brother Yi wasn’t saving up all those hard-earned Talisman Coins for himself, nor was he building a nest egg. He was smitten with Luo Qian’er from a neighboring peak, trying everything to win her smile.

In just half a year, he had spent the twenty or thirty thousand Talisman Coins he’d painstakingly saved, down to the last one.

Thinking of this, He the Venerable couldn’t help but shake his head. Who didn’t know that wanton slut Luo was having an affair with Zhou Can from Sewing Peak?

How else could she have been transferred from the Banner Making Room on Nourishing Soul Peak to the relatively cushy Washing Silk Room on Sewing Peak?

The work there wasn’t too demanding, and it was easy to earn a total of “two thousand Talisman Coins” a month. It was a good post coveted by many a Mortal Servant!

“Brother Yi, why suffer and toil for some woman? If you ask me, we should work hard for a few more years, save up tens of thousands of Talisman Coins, then leave the mountain. We could buy some land and a house, go home and be rich old men, and marry a few beautiful wives and concubines. Wouldn’t that be the life?”

Recalling how Jiang Yi often saved him extra food from meals, He the Venerable made a rare effort to say a few more words.

“Thanks, Brother He. I’ve seen the light. I won’t do anything that stupid again.”

Jiang Yi grinned, the past dullness in his eyes replaced by a new frankness.

“That’s good to hear. You’re up so early. Off to work again?”

He the Venerable was half-convinced. He had advised Brother Yi more than once, but it had always gone in one ear and out the other. The boy used to see Luo Qian’er as a goddess, ready to tear out his own heart for her, completely obsessed.

“Marshal Yang from the Quenching Room saw how diligent I was and specially assigned me to go to the Lower Courtyard to oversee recruitment.”

Jiang Yi said truthfully.

“You’ve got some good luck. Recruitment is a lucrative gig. It’s not hard to make several hundred, or even a thousand, Talisman Coins from a single trip.”

He the Venerable’s tone suddenly soured with envy. Why couldn’t he have been there when Old Yang from the Quenching Room had his rare moment of charity?

’If only I’d known, I wouldn’t have left so early yesterday. I missed my chance!’

“When I get back from the job, I’ll treat you to a Spiritual Meal, Brother He.”

Jiang Yi said with a smile.

“Now that’s what I like to hear! I’ll get to bask in your good fortune!”

Having been promised a treat, He the Venerable’s face broke into a smile. The trace of jealousy in his heart dissipated, and his tone became cheerful.

“You must still be hungry, Brother Yi. There are a few beef pancakes on the stove. Take them to tide you over.

By the way, what’s with your eyes? They’re all red.”

“It’s from the furnace fire, nothing serious. Thanks, Brother He.”

Jiang Yi cupped his hands in thanks, then went to the kitchen. He lifted a porcelain bowl covering the food and tucked the rolled pancake, stuffed with braised beef, into his robe.

“Brother He, I’m heading out now.”

He called out once more before leaving the Big Mixed Courtyard and heading down the mountain.

WHOOSH!

The cold wind howled, whistling through the mountain forest.

A thousand thoughts churned in Jiang Yi’s mind, like the clouds and mist that drifted over the peak of Red Flame Peak—scattering in the wind, only to gather again.

’Qianji Sect, Red Flame Peak, Mortal Servant… Some Cultivation to seek Immortality. This is clearly just a sweatshop, and we’re the disposable cattle and horses!’

Jiang Yi sighed inwardly as he chewed on the tough beef pancake, his thoughts drifting to his previous life.

’My uncle on my mother’s side was getting remarried, so I went back to my hometown for the wedding banquet. A Daoist ended up telling my fortune, saying I was ’destined to become an Immortal and about to have a stroke of great luck.’

I thought it was a good thing. Goddammit, who would’ve thought *this* was the ’great luck’ he was talking about!’

Having occupied this body for seven or eight days now, Jiang Yi had a general grasp of the situation.

The original owner had been a young man from Guniu Town at the foot of Beimang Ridge. His family was well-off enough that he never had to worry about food or clothing. But after his parents died young, he became obsessed with the tales of Sword Immortals in storybooks. Egged on by his relatives, he sold off his family’s property and went to the Prefecture City to study Daoism.

Unfortunately, he had little talent. With inferior aptitude, his progress stalled at the Qi Cultivation First Layer.

Once his three years of study were over, he was assigned to the Qianji Sect on Beimang Ridge, becoming a Mortal Servant in one of the seven or eight workhouses on Red Flame Peak.

’Sounds like graduating from a vocational college only to get assigned by the school to a job screwing bolts in an electronics factory…’

Jiang Yi mocked himself.

The so-called Mortal Servants were just miscellaneous laborers for the sect, not counted among the ranks of “Disciples.”

They were like apprentices in the secular world learning a trade—they had little personal freedom and started and ended their work day at the sound of a bell each morning and evening.

Following the arrangements of the Marshals, they would go to places like the “Quenching Room,” “Grinding and Carving Room,” or “Forging Room” to earn some Talisman Coins.

If one was lucky enough to break through to the Qi Cultivation Fifth Layer, they might be promoted to Marshal. Alternatively, after toughing it out for twelve years, when their term was up, they could also choose to leave the Qianji Sect and return to the secular world.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep