Pulling Strings

As he spoke, he suddenly raised a hand and slapped his thigh hard, complaining to his disciple in a voice full of regret and bitterness:

"Me? I'm a useless old good-for-nothing! I've muddled through my whole life just like that!"

His cultivation really wasn't particularly high.

Among Horse-Riding Immortals, he kept a small shrine, and the "Immortal Family" he worshipped weren't renowned great powers. He had no particularly powerful backing.

When he had taken on this burden from his master back then, hadn't he too been young and proud, dreaming of bringing glory to his family and building up the shrine?

But the reality was that, through decades of wind and rain, he had lived an utterly ordinary life.

He made a living treating people's minor illnesses and misfortunes, blessing and cleansing homes, and pointing people through their troubles.

He didn't go hungry, but he couldn't get rich either, let alone make a name for himself.

When he was young and busy running around, he hadn't thought much of it. Now that he was old and had time on his hands, the discontent and self-reproach buried deep in his heart fermented over and over like old wine lees, growing more bitter by the day.

Qing He Miao was used to it by now.

Over the past few years, whenever he drank with his master, this sort of thing often happened once they had drunk a certain amount.

His master would curse himself for being useless, for letting down his own master's expectations, for wasting his life in mediocrity. When he got worked up, he would even slap himself across the face, tears streaming down his aged cheeks.

"Master, you can't say that. All living beings suffer. Everyone has their own difficulties and their own way of living. In my eyes, if a person can live with a clear conscience before heaven and earth, neither cheat nor deceive, and remain true to themselves in word and deed, that's already an extraordinary accomplishment."

Seeing his master like this, Qing He Miao felt bad too. All he could do was push the dish of shelled peanuts in front of him a little closer to his master.

He gestured for him not to just drink, but to eat a few peanuts too.

He paused, looked at his master's reddened eyes, and continued trying to comfort him:

"Look at me. With my temperament, wasn't I willing to become your disciple and learn some skills to make my way in life, after living safely to this age, precisely because you're an honest man? You've never misled people with wild talk or exaggerated things just to earn a few more coins. You tell the truth and act according to your conscience. Otherwise, where would you have found such a good disciple as me? Isn't that an achievement of yours too?"

His master's surname was Chai, and his given name had a distinctly immortal, ethereal air to it: Chai Ningshen.

When Qing He Miao had been born into this life, he already had an adult's soul inside him.

As a result, he had inevitably displayed quite a few oddities that set him apart from ordinary babies.

Even ordinary people could have noticed them.

And in those days, information wasn't as readily available, and many people of the older generation still held old-fashioned beliefs.

As time went on, they inevitably began to mutter among themselves and feel uneasy.

Country folk had a practical way of dealing with such "unease": they found someone to take a "look."

Given the circumstances at the time, they naturally didn't seek out a professional child specialist.

So, not long after Qing He Miao was born, his parents invited Mr. Chai, who had a bit of a reputation in the surrounding villages at the time.

Qing He Miao had only recently arrived in this world.

Although he had a system, he had yet to begin cultivating qi, and he was skeptical that supernatural powers existed in this world.

On top of that, he was influenced by the habitual ways of thinking he had brought from modern society.

He subconsciously assumed the man was most likely an ordinary "jianghu swindler."

So when Master Chai came to his home to "examine" him, he didn't pay him much attention.

He had made up his mind to cooperate by gurgling and fussing his way through it, as long as the man didn't do anything excessive, like forcing him to drink talisman water.

As it happened, Master Chai Ningshen was just such a man, one with principles who didn't go around doing all sorts of outlandish things for no reason.

So when Master Chai Ningshen used his lineage's methods, mobilizing his meager qi to sense and observe the "unusually quiet" child, he really didn't "see" anything.

He merely felt that the child's eyes were clear and bright, and that he didn't seem to be haunted by anything "unclean." But he couldn't say the child had any "affinity with immortals" or showed any "strange signs," either.

In the end, Master Chai simply followed custom and offered a few polite remarks, such as "The child is very quiet, which is a blessing" and "Keep him warm at home and don't let him catch cold." He accepted a small red envelope, and that was the end of it.

Later on, Qing He Miao still didn't know he was in the world of The Outcast.

He was still entertaining fantasies of the usual "urban rebirth novel" plot.

With an adult's learning ability and the help of the system's "proficiency," he worked hard to show how extraordinary he was.

He recognized a thousand characters at three, recited Tang poetry at five, and at seven, with the help of the "general literature" skill, he was already tackling the Four Books and Five Classics, half understanding them. By eight, he had also become quite proficient at poetry and prose.

Through his deliberate efforts to cultivate that image, he had become the "child prodigy" of the surrounding villages, full of ambition.

All that remained was to follow the usual path: study hard, enter a prestigious university through the college entrance exam, then use his foreknowledge to invest and make a fortune, take the city by storm with his system, and reach the pinnacle of life.

When the time came, perhaps he could even work to turn the contents of this book into one of those old-formula Little Liu Bei stories.

And it was precisely his reputation as a "child prodigy," which had spread over those years, that once again reached the ears of Chai Ningshen, who lived in the same area and had met him once before.

When Master Chai heard people talking about it, he thought it was quite a fateful connection, so he curiously made time to take a detour and visit again.

After asking around on the way, he learned that the rumors were true. Qing He Miao's performance was so exceptional that, in the old days, he might well have been called the Star of Literature descended to earth.

People simply didn't put stock in such things anymore.

And considering that he himself was getting on in years, he began to think of taking a disciple.

So during this encounter, he sounded the boy out by trying to teach him a little of his school's most basic qi cultivation method, hoping to see how he would react and what aptitude he possessed.

What Master Chai hadn't expected was that, while treating it like amusing a child and finding a chance to mention the method as if casually,

Qing He Miao, who had recognized the old man and thought he was about to swindle him, suddenly heard a clear and unmistakable system notification in his mind:

[You have been taught the basics of qi cultivation by a Horse-Riding Immortal expert. Would you like to learn the introductory technique "Bingbing Ritual"?]

That notification struck like a thunderclap, shattering his established understanding.

Holy shit!

So supernatural powers really did exist in this world?

And so, filled with shock and enormous curiosity, Qing He Miao formally became Chai Ningshen's disciple and began learning the Horse-Riding Immortal lineage's qi cultivation methods.

As his cultivation deepened and he pieced together the scraps of information Master Chai mentioned about the "Outcast World," the "Nadutong Company," and the "various schools and sects," he finally caught on and came to a sudden realization.

He had transmigrated into the world of The Outcast!

A lot of his original plans could be changed now.

Looking back, his master Chai Ningshen was actually quite dependable.

His cultivation might not have been high and his shrine might have been small, but he had firm principles when it came to his conduct.

Chapter 11: Pulling Strings

When there was conclusive evidence of an evil spirit causing trouble, Master Chai would naturally do his best to deal with it. There was nothing more to say about that.

But if he investigated and confirmed that nothing was wrong with his employer's home and they were merely being suspicious, he wouldn't make up alarming stories just to earn a bigger fee.

At most, he would offer a few reassuring words like, "The energy in your home is a little stagnant; I'll help get it flowing," to give them some peace of mind.

Sometimes he would even use some basic medical skills and massage techniques he had learned from the White Immortal Family to help clear their meridians and relieve their fatigue, putting their minds at ease and making their bodies more comfortable.

An unscrupulous person in his place,

Even if they had only noticed that the child in Qing He Miao's home was unusually quiet back then,

Might have casually made up stories like "The child's fate is too weak and easily attracts things" or "A ritual is needed to suppress them," just to show how "skilled" they were.

In that case, Qing He Miao's family in this life might not have enjoyed the stability and peace they later had.

They would surely have spent money and endured a great deal of trouble.

They might even have grown distant from him or excessively worried about him when he was young.

So sometimes, in a line of work like this, being able to hold to one's principles and refrain from committing sins with one's mouth was itself an exceptionally precious virtue.

Sure enough, Qing He Miao's words visibly calmed Master Chai's agitated emotions.

"That's right! What do you call this? Good deeds being rewarded!"

The old man grinned, a touch of pride entering his voice:

"A person has to live without going against their conscience. Your master may not have much ability, but heaven opened its eyes and let me take on a good disciple like you!"

He could boast about this for the rest of his life.

"Exactly. Your disciple here will ascend to immortality sooner or later."

Qing He Miao smiled too, chiming in with complete sincerity:

"As for when, I've worked it out, and I reckon it'll take another seventy or eighty years. Master, as my founding senior disciple... ah, no, my founding master,

"Why don't you give up the booze and all that other stuff, then work a little harder at cultivating for a few more years? When the time comes, you can watch your own disciple ascend amid rosy clouds. Wouldn't even thinking about that sight make you feel great? What an honor that would be!"

He wasn't speaking entirely off the cuff.

Based on what he had learned over the past few years, ordinary people generally reached around level five to seven as adults.

Qing He Miao had begun cultivating in earnest under Master Chai at eight and a half, and he was now fourteen.

Aside from the basic improvements brought about by his body's natural growth, he had gained about five levels.

That averaged out to almost one level a year.

He had come to understand exactly why people in the original story grew stronger with age.

A year of hard work truly did earn a year's worth of skill.

Although he hadn't yet figured out what level was needed to ascend to immortality, he could assume a round number of one hundred.

If he followed this "normal" pace, stayed out of trouble, and simply accumulated strength through slow, secluded cultivation,

Wouldn't it take him eighty to a hundred years to max out his level?

Fortunately, he only needed enough "experience points" to level up directly, so there were no bottlenecks.

In theory, he wouldn't end up like the "Fierce Clown" Xia Liuqing in the original story, who had been infamous in his youth but, in old age, found his strength failing him. Though he still had his cultivation realm and skills, his body couldn't keep up, greatly diminishing his power.

That was one major advantage of having a system as a "transmigrator."

He just had to lie low and take it slow.

"Bullshit! Nothing but utter nonsense out of your mouth!"

Master Chai was amused, though he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He rolled his eyes at him.

"You haven't even grown all your hair yet, and you're lecturing your master? Seventy or eighty years... what do you take me for, an old turtle that's turned into a spirit? You think I can live that long?"

People knew their own affairs best.

Master Chai knew his situation as clearly as a mirror.

With his meager cultivation of life and spirit, even with Madam White worshipped at his shrine and occasionally able to help him recuperate,

He might be confident of living another ten-odd years in good health, free of illness and misfortune.

But living another seventy or eighty years, or even a hundred, to see his disciple "ascend" with his own eyes?

He would have to attain the Dao and become an immortal himself first.