Cultivators Are So Weak in This World-Chapter 35 - 34

Embracing the comfort after the breakthrough, Zhang Rongfang fell asleep.

Early the next morning.

He didn’t join the other disciples for morning class but went to the dormitory, the place for managing and arranging various affairs for the disciples.

A Literary Cultivator in charge arranged for him to go down the mountain to prepare in the county.

The deacon’s surname was Xu, named Zhongchun, a chubby old Daoist wearing black-framed glasses.

The glasses had no legs, tied together with a string and the Dao bun hair.

Zhang Rongfang wasn’t surprised; many aspects of the Great Spirit resembled the ancient China he knew in his previous life.

Having glasses was also quite normal. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"Nephew Zhang, over at Qinghe Temple in Huaxin County, we have three resident ranked martial cultivators, led by Nephew Li Heng.

You will follow Li Heng’s arrangements in everything. If you have personal errands, you can request them from Li Heng.

Also, the specific departure time is within today.

With numerous wild beasts in the mountains, it’s best not to take wrong paths and stick to the main roads to avoid danger.

This is your food package."

With a smile, Xu Zhongchun handed over a small grayish package.

"Thank you for the reminder, Uncle Xu." Zhang Rongfang quickly accepted it, bowing in respect.

In this place, manners must be observed; otherwise, any slight mistake may cause trouble.

"This time, Nephew Zhang, you’re leading a team of three, all going to the county for rotation. Here are your documents, keep them well."

Xu Zhongchun handed over a stack of pamphlets made of parchment, densely inscribed with small characters.

Such as name, native place, Daoist registration location, places visited, each with a stamp left, and document issuance place information.

This is the ancient version of a passport.

Zhang Rongfang carefully accepted it.

Without this, no one was allowed to enter any city in the Great Spirit. So it has to be kept safe.

Upon heading out, after meeting the other three who were departing with him, Zhang Rongfang took his luggage and went to his Master Zhang Xuan, bade farewell to his master and senior brother, and then slowly walked out from Qinghe Palace’s mountain gate.

The group of four walked several hundred meters, and Zhang Rongfang suddenly turned back, looking at the three arches of Qinghe Palace’s entrance.

The three arches of the Daoist mountain gate symbolize the Three Realms: Tai Chi, Wuji, and the present world.

Stepping through the mountain gate represents stepping out of the Three Realms.

As the saying goes, stepping out of the Three Realms, beyond the five elements, lives the meaning of these Three Realms.

At this moment, Zhang Rongfang turned back, looking at the serene architecture of Qinghe Palace, feeling an inexplicable sense of impending farewell.

Qinghe Palace was his true safe harbor in this world, the first place to find shelter from the storm.

Now, he finally had to leave this place, leave this comfort zone, and step into the true Great Spirit.

Residing in Huaxin County this time, according to the rules, he had to stay outside for at least a year before he could rotate back.

A year....

"Senior brother?" A voice came from the other Daoists behind him.

Zhang Rongfang snapped back to reality.

"Let’s go."

He turned around, looking at the endless forest sea ahead, feeling the abundant strength and stamina brought by his recent breakthrough, with no fear anymore, strode forward.

*

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*

"Golden chickpea beans, crispy and fragrant, a handful fills your mouth with aroma!"

"Boiled duck eggs, five coins each, gleaming with oil, tender and fragrant!"

"Patch leather boots, fifteen coins per time, skillful craftsmanship with no trace."

"Fine lamp oil at Hongs, sesame oil, fish oil, fragrant fruit oil, white tung oil, all stocked!"

In the bustling marketplace, crowds flowed like water as street vendors hawked their wares while carrying their loads.

Before the shop entrances, the clerks displayed their divine abilities, shouting and selling.

In front of the taverns, performers and entertainers drew many onlookers.

Those tired from standing naturally entered the building to eat and drink while watching.

At the discounted fruit stalls, even the roughly dressed farmers could roll up their sleeves and buy a few to feast on.

The wives and young ladies from wealthy households leisurely came in and out of the fragrance shops and brocade cloth stores, under the escort of servants and maids.

Young men wearing round hats and long clothing roamed in groups of three or five, some chatting and laughing, speaking grandly with spittle flying.

Some walked slowly with their hands behind their backs, their eyes wandering aimlessly.

And some suddenly met acquaintances, stopping to exchange pleasantries.

"Hey, senior brother, come see, what’s displayed in front of that ready-made clothing store?"

On the market street, four figures in blue Qinghe Palace Daoist robes strolled leisurely along with the flow.

The one walking at the front was Zhang Rongfang, whose height had grown to 178 cm, with a sturdy and toned physique.

He was dressed in a blue disciple’s Daoist robe, overlaid with a white tunic, carrying a large gray cloth package on his back, a copper moon clasp pinning his long hair on the Dao bun.

Compared to before, his skin tone had lightened slightly, shedding its dark hue to become normal color.

Hearing the question from behind, he turned around to look.

The one who spoke was his junior sister Du Jiu.

Being the youngest, everyone called her Xiao Jiu.

Xiao Jiu was lively and cheerful but also quite sensible and reasonable. Though her looks and build weren’t outstanding, she could greatly enliven the travel atmosphere.

"What is it?" Zhang Rongfang looked in the direction Du Jiu pointed.

In front of a store called Li’s Ready-made Clothing, several vertical wooden boards were displayed, each inscribed with a phrase.

The first board read: ’Ask not about the future.’

The second: ’Only inquire about attire.’

The third: ’If attire is untidy.’

The fourth: ’The future will not stand true.’

The fifth: ’Copying contest, the best may shop with a 20% discount.’

The handwriting flows like dragons and snakes, quite aesthetically pleasing.

"Two-fold...! This... should we join as well?" Xiao Jiu seemed tempted.

Daoists do not always have to wear Daoist robes; some simple dresses can also be worn.

"Let’s first settle down at the temple before we decide." Another male disciple said, somewhat steadily.

"Alright... I’ll remember the place and might come back to try it myself! I think my handwriting is decent." Jiu’Er said enthusiastically.

"Has anyone been to Qinghe Temple? I’ve been to the county, but never to this temple." Zhang Rongfang frowned.

Including Jiu’Er, all three shook their heads.

None of them noticed that while they were talking, a shop assistant waiting in the clothing store next to them had his eyes slightly moving, listening attentively.

Upon hearing they were going to Qinghe Temple, the assistant pretended to sit at the door, nodding off.

Only after Zhang Rongfang and his companions slowly walked away did he lift his head, quickly turn, and enter the shop.

Soon after, a little girl walked briskly out of the shop, running to a nearby alley.

In many shops on this street, there were members of the Mi Gang. If she went too late, she wouldn’t be able to claim any reward money.

Half an hour later, Zhang Rongfang and his group finally found the location of Qinghe Temple.

After they handed over the task, some rotating Daoists inside the temple packed their luggage reluctantly and left.

The temple leader Li Heng was young and strong, a second-tier Martial Cultivator, now in his early thirties, with a big belly.

After arranging accommodations for Zhang Rongfang and the others, he waved them off to act on their own, leaving the temple in their care.

He himself hurriedly left the temple, whereabouts unknown.

Zhang Rongfang did not mind; Li Heng reeked of alcohol upon meeting him, probably on his way to the tavern, restaurant, or some entertainment district.

The Daoist way isn’t as strict as Buddhism with taboos. Li Heng, having stayed in this bustling Huaxin County for so long, had already become a local figure.

Judging by his chubby body, claiming to be second-tier, in a real fight he might not even match first-tier.

After settling his companions, Zhang Rongfang wandered around the small temple.

Qinghe Temple was very simple, a square structure, a main hall, about ten guest rooms, a small front yard for incense burners, and then the main gate.

Altogether, it was just the smallest courtyard.

The entire temple, besides them, only had temple leader Li Heng and two sweeping attendants.

After tidying up the bedding and such, Zhang Rongfang took the letter of instruction from his brother Zhang Xintai and left the temple to find the residence of Sister-in-law Yang Hongyan.

*

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*

Inside Qinghe Palace.

Zhang Xuan sat cross-legged on the prayer mat, basking in the sun and nodding off in the backyard.

Two sparrows hopped back and forth on the wall opposite, chirping noisily, making him somewhat annoyed.

"Dad, Dad?"

Zhang Xintai walked into the backyard, grinning broadly.

"I’m planning to go to the county tomorrow. Last time promised Yanzi to accompany her around the market."

"What’s there to wander in the market?" Zhang Xuan, not wanting to stay alone on the mountain, was somewhat displeased.

"It’s all mountain goods; you haven’t seen them before?"

"We’re almost engaged, aren’t we? Planning to send something to the prospective in-laws." Zhang Xintai said enthusiastically.

"The Chen family issue was only recently settled, and the matter in the county isn’t finished yet. What are you in such a hurry for?" Zhang Xuan pursed his lips, turning away not wanting to look at his son.

"With Chen Baihu keeping watch, Mi Gang must be flustered, probably not having time to care about us." Zhang Xintai said dismissively.

"Moreover, if the Chen family wants revenge, they should find the supervisor themselves, what does it have to do with us?"

"You silly boy... Fine, fine, go ahead, be careful on the road. Remember to bring that item." Zhang Xuan couldn’t overwhelm his son, waving his hand.

"Just leave your old man here alone in this quiet loft waiting to die."

"...Uh." Zhang Xintai froze a moment. "Dad, don’t you want me to quickly have a few chubby sons?"

"Hmm..." Zhang Xuan pondered, "That’s... you silly boy, your life will just be like this, might as well have a few more, nurture them, expand the family prestige! Go on, go on, hurry and get lost!"

"Understood!" Zhang Xintai beamed happily, quickly turned to pack his things.

"Oh, right Dad, don’t forget the engagement date, you need to be there." He ran far off, his voice drifting back.

"Got it, February first, I’ll definitely be there on time."

Zhang Xuan calculated the time, it’s just over ten days until next month’s first day...

He sighed deeply. More expenses to make...

*

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Huaxin County is divided into four zones representing East, West, South, and North.

Each zone has more than ten streets and hundreds of houses.

Qinghe Temple is located in the East Zone, while Yang Hongyan’s residence is in the West Zone, requiring passage through the county center.

Zhang Rongfang inquired around, finally finding Yang Hongyan’s sister-in-law’s home before sunset.

Delivering the letter, he breathed a sigh of relief, leisurely made his way back.

In the sunset, rows of one-story houses in Huaxin County, occasionally, a few multi-story buildings were bathed in the red glow.

Zhang Rongfang tightened his Daoist robe, walked straight along the wall of a wealthy family’s home.

On his left side, a bullock cart slowly passed by, the driver wielding the whip making continuous cracking sounds; on the road passed, a pile of cow dung stomped flat by hooves remained.

Zhang Rongfang wrinkled his nose, quickened his pace, trying to avoid the dung smell.

Having walked a few steps, at the road corner in front, there quietly appeared several dark-skinned men rolling up their sleeves.

These men stared intently at this side.

Zhang Rongfang halted, quickly turned his head to glance.

Sure enough, a few men also emerged behind him, holding sturdy wooden sticks, watching fiercely.

Although just sticks, the ones they’re holding, at least as thick as forearms, really being hit could surely break bones.