This Setup Was Damnably Sweet

Back when players learned that the game "Heavenly Dust" had no concept of ascension, it sparked heated discussion on the forums.

After intense debate, combined with the NPCs' usual attitude toward life in the game, the players felt that this setting was quite reasonable.

If they searched their hearts, could anyone truly be free of attachments in such a vast world?

If the purpose of cultivation was ascension, leaving this world, and severing all ties, then perhaps the more powerful a cultivator became, the more heartless and detached they would be.

Yet, on the contrary, while the cultivators of Tian Chen Continent were indeed extraordinary, aside from their cultivation, they were actually no different from ordinary people.

Simply put, cultivators were merely people with cultivation.

Believe it or not, even the Demon Sect, which outsiders saw as arrogant and lawless, took holidays during festivals...

The disciples could return home to visit their families during holidays, especially during the New Year. Anyone with a home to return to would go home for the New Year, while for those with nowhere to go, the Demon Sect was their home.

It was not just the Demon Sect. Most cultivation sects were like this.

The reason was actually very simple.

Once someone stepped through the gates of cultivation, they gained extraordinary power and a lifespan beyond that of ordinary people.

Even after merely entering the First Realm, living past a hundred was effortless.

It seemed that mortal humans, with their short lifespans, were destined to be unable to accompany cultivators through their entire lives. They would eventually leave and eventually vanish from the cultivators' world.

Since not everyone could cultivate, it was normal for cultivators' parents, brothers, and sisters to be mortals.

Parting was unavoidable.

A small number of cultivators took this as proof that "forgetting all emotions" and "extinguishing feelings and severing desires" were the Great Dao!

But in reality, most cultivators on Tian Chen Continent walked the opposite path.

It was precisely because parting was unavoidable that everything became all the more precious.

That sense of human warmth and everyday life were the main reasons countless players became obsessed with the game "Heavenly Dust."

In the eyes of many players, it was like a world that truly existed. And for Lu Xun now, this place had indeed become a real human world.

So naturally, he hoped cultivators could be a little more like normal people. That way, they could live more easily.

With nothing else to do, Lu Xun sat cross-legged and began cultivating again.

Although the Experience Points gained were not much, every little bit counted. Besides, cultivation really was a little addictive!

Soon, his body began to itch, followed by a faint pain.

And in return, his Experience Points crawled upward at a tortoise's pace.

After circulating several Small Cycles, he opened the experience panel and took a look. His current experience bar was 110/1000.

He could cultivate for roughly one Great Cycle every day, which was equivalent to ten Small Cycles and earned him 20 Experience Points.

By that calculation, if he relied solely on cultivation, he would only need 44.5 days to level up. Hahahaha—urk!

In truth, cultivating the Qi Devouring Art was not difficult at all. Those with good aptitude did not need much time to cultivate it all the way to Great Perfection.

It looks like besides Prestige Value Tasks, I'll have to find other ways to gain experience. Lu Xun thought.

Meanwhile, in a tavern in a small city far from the Demon Sect, a storyteller was animatedly telling tales.

He looked like a middle-aged man, dressed in a plain white robe, like a poor scholar who had failed to earn official rank.

There were actually quite a few people like that. The lucky ones married wives willing to support their studies, allowing them to keep studying even at an advanced age. The unlucky ones generally found work that could support their families.

The middle-aged man stood beside a table, holding an unopened folding fan in his left hand as he recounted strange tales and anecdotes about cultivators.

Ordinary people loved such stories the most. After all, the farther something was from their own lives, the more curious they became about it.

The storyteller was highly skilled. He spoke in a calm, unhurried tone, and his tales were captivating and vividly brought to life.

It was just that the Orchid Finger of his left hand, which held the folding fan, was slightly raised, giving him a somewhat coquettish air.

At the climax of the story, the storyteller seemed thirsty, so he paused and leisurely took a sip of tea. One hand propped against the table, his posture was flirtatious.

The listeners below immediately began urging him on. Who could stand being left hanging like that?

Seeing how urgently everyone was pressing him, the storyteller smiled gently and refinedly. After clearing his throat, he continued.

After finishing the entire story, a dark-skinned man dressed in black carried a tray around to collect tips from the listeners.

He had a square face, was tall and heavily built, and looked exactly like the strongest farmhand in a village.

His smile was simple and honest. Perhaps because he smiled often, there were already many wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His forehead lines were also quite deep, making him look both rustic and old-fashioned.

This was merely a small city, and the tavern was only a small tavern. Its listeners certainly could not compare to the wealthy dignitaries of grand establishments, but the storyteller had truly performed well. In the end, several generous listeners still opened their purses and gave lavish tips.

Before tipping, the listeners did not forget to praise him. "You're a truly excellent storyteller, but it was a little short!"

"It was long enough, long enough." The storyteller smiled faintly and cupped his hands toward every listener who had given a tip in thanks.

Since he was not a regular storyteller at this tavern and had only borrowed the venue for two days, he would still have to split those tips with the tavern. In truth, he would not receive much in the end.

Today was the last day. Even though the proprietor tried his best to persuade them to stay, the storyteller and the farmhand-like man exchanged a few polite words with him before leaving anyway.

After telling stories for two days, the gentleman had more or less had his fill of fun.

The farmhand walked with the stride of a dragon and the gait of a tiger, while the storyteller took very small steps. To be precise... they looked exactly like dainty little steps.

After leaving the tavern, the dark-skinned man asked, "Sir, are you sure we should not set off back to the mountain?"

"What would we return to the mountain for?" asked the poor scholar in white robes.

"Aren't we going to see Little Martial Brother?" the dark-skinned man asked as they walked.

"What is there to see? Could he possibly be that handsome? Doesn't everyone have two eyes, two ears, one nose, and one mouth?" The middle-aged poor scholar smoothed his slightly wrinkled robe. When they passed a stall selling bronze mirrors, he did not forget to take a look at himself.

The dark-skinned man knew in his heart that the gentleman was vain. Though he was not particularly handsome, he was exceptionally vain.

Besides being vain, the gentleman was also jealous, so he disliked men who were overly handsome.

Therefore, Shen Yan had been able to become the Demon Sect's Sect Master not only because his cultivation was the highest and his prestige among his peers was greatest, but also because he was the shortest, looked fierce and ugly, and did not even have a single hair on his head...

—The gentleman was very satisfied.

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