One-Month Deadline

At noon, the blazing sun hung high overhead.

Under the scorching sun, Yang Chan turned over the half-dried herbs. The searing sunlight had tanned his skin considerably, and even with a crude sunshade, he could not avoid being drenched in sweat.

Not far from them, inside the Medicine Hall, the Formal Disciples remained indoors, acting as overseers and directing the Steward Disciples in their tasks. They did not need to work beneath the blazing sun and sweltering heat.

As they assigned work, they pointed at the Steward Disciples and laughed among themselves, clearly using them to pass the time.

Their skin was pale and fair, and they were far better off than the lot of them.

"I will become one of them."

Beside Yang Chan, a young Steward Disciple wiping away sweat revealed fury in his eyes and spoke with a resolute expression.

The few Steward Disciples beside him merely smiled without saying anything. This was not the first time they had seen such a sight. In fact, most people who had just become Steward Disciples were like this, looking as though they wanted to take their place.

Yang Chan sighed inwardly as well.

The treatment of Steward Disciples and Formal Disciples was as far apart as heaven and earth. Steward Disciples were servants of the Qingyuan Sect, and every year, a batch of them would be eliminated and replaced with new young Steward Disciples.

Every year, quite a few Steward Disciples in the Qingyuan Sect died from forcefully practicing the Ox Demon Strength Fist, yet no one cared. The Qingyuan Sect was the strongest force in Qingzhou. Countless people wanted to join it, even if they had to squeeze through a crowd so dense it could crush heads, all for the Sect's protection. That was the Qingyuan Sect's confidence.

Yang Chan had only become a Steward Disciple of the Qingyuan Sect because, by a stroke of luck, he had found a century-old ginseng root and offered it to the Sect.

After all the herbs had been turned over, Yang Chan and the others finally had time to hide in the shade and drink some water. This life truly was miserable. He missed the days when he could enjoy air conditioning, drink soda, lie down and watch pretty girls on his phone, and eat fried chicken.

Under Yang Chan's resentment, that unscrupulous boss shrank by another five centimeters. Who knew whether there was anything left at all?

"I heard that the sun has been especially fierce this year. Several bodies of water in Qingzhou have dried up. I wonder how the village is doing this year."

Wang Sheng, who was drying herbs alongside Yang Chan and the others, raised his head to glance at the blazing sun and spoke worriedly.

Like Yang Chan, he had been in the Qingyuan Sect for more than two years. Yet even now, he had not comprehended Jing Power and was very likely to be expelled from the Qingyuan Sect.

"The last time I delivered medicine to the Formal Disciples in the Medicine Hall, I heard them say that because of this year's severe drought, the elders of the Qingyuan Sect plan to dismiss a batch of Steward Disciples."

"The three-year term may be moved up."

A Steward Disciple tugged at the others and spoke in a mysterious whisper.

"Dismiss the Steward Disciples early? Then what are we supposed to do...?"

Wang Sheng panicked upon hearing this.

Everyone knew that this year's drought would inevitably bring famine. If they were sent down the mountain at a time like this, they would have practically no way to survive.

Listening to their discussion, Yang Chan frowned as well. This had happened before. When Yang Chan had first entered the Qingyuan Sect, Steward Disciples could remain on the mountain for three and a half years.

But after a famine year arrived, it had been shortened to three years.

The Qingyuan Sect was not a charity hall. Although Steward Disciples did not consume much individually, there were simply too many of them. Dismissing some of them would naturally make things easier for the Qingyuan Sect.

The Qingyuan Sect recruited these Steward Disciples for two purposes. One was to handle servant tasks, while the other was to select disciples with decent aptitude to join the Qingyuan Sect.

Under normal circumstances, those who had the hope of becoming Elite Disciples within a year were worth grooming. Those who took two years were still worth cultivating. But if one only became a Formal Disciple after three years, their potential would not be very high.

Therefore, it was entirely possible that the Qingyuan Sect would shorten the term for Steward Disciples once more.

This unconfirmed news left everyone drying herbs heavy-hearted.

I must comprehend Jing Power as soon as possible and become a Formal Disciple. If I leave the Qingyuan Sect at a time like this, death will be inevitable.

Yang Chan thought silently.

Outside the Qingyuan Sect, he had no one to rely on. If he left the Sect during these famine-stricken years, even finding food would likely be a problem. Starving to death would be perfectly normal.

During the famine years, the original owner of this body had personally witnessed people exchanging children to eat. That was why he had fought so desperately to remain in the Qingyuan Sect.

When the lingering warmth of the sun was no longer scorching, Yang Chan and the others began gathering the herbs. By the time Yang Chan returned to his little room, the sky was already close to dark.

After working all day, Yang Chan had eaten a total of four corn buns. That was his ration for the entire day, nowhere near what Formal Disciples received.

When he returned to the courtyard where the Steward Disciples gathered, some people were already practicing the Ox Demon Strength Fist. Everyone was working hard, hoping to comprehend that trace of Jing Power and change their lives.

Yang Chan was no exception. After completing two sets of the Ox Demon Strength Fist in the courtyard, he returned to his room to continue training.

The Tai Chi Health Cultivation Technique he practiced now was a quiet cultivation art. It did not fit in with the others and was rather conspicuous.

Though some Steward Disciples practiced martial arts they had brought with them, almost none practiced quiet cultivation arts.

Yang Chan practiced the Tai Chi Health Cultivation Technique in his room. After completing one set, his qi and blood recovered to its peak, and he practiced the Ox Demon Strength Fist once more.

Only after practicing the Tai Chi Health Cultivation Technique five times did the proficiency panel change. The Tai Chi Health Cultivation Technique had reached First Stage Peeking into the Threshold at 11%, its proficiency increasing by one percent. This also allowed him to see an opportunity for the Tai Chi Health Cultivation Technique to improve.

Based on the progress shown on the proficiency panel, he estimated that he would need to practice the Tai Chi Health Cultivation Technique another four hundred and forty-five times before it could advance again. The future was promising.

Though the life of a Steward Disciple was hard, Yang Chan had grown accustomed to it after three consecutive days. Then, on this morning, after the steward gathered them together, he did not assign them any Servant Tasks. Instead, he announced the Qingyuan Sect's latest arrangement for Steward Disciples.

The three-year term for Steward Disciples had been changed to two years. For Steward Disciples who had already exceeded two years, the Qingyuan Sect would grant another month. If they could comprehend Raging Bull Strength, they could become Formal Disciples of the Qingyuan Sect. If they failed to comprehend it, they would be driven down the mountain.

This news was a bolt from the blue for many people. Wang Sheng, who had dried herbs with Yang Chan before, had already begun to cry.

Over these past days, everyone in the Qingyuan Sect had heard rumors of the famine in Qingzhou. All manner of tragic scenes had spread through the Sect, so naturally they knew what it meant to be driven out of the Qingyuan Sect at a time like this.

Yang Chan sighed as well, but he was not anxious. Over these three days, the proficiency of his Ox Demon Strength Fist had risen to 55% of the entry level. At this rate, he would definitely comprehend Jing Power within a month and become a Formal Disciple.

At the same time, his Potential Points were no longer zero, but 0.3. He could accumulate 0.1 every day, and this was related to the food he ate. Although he could not add points until he reached 1, in just a few more days, he would surely accumulate one point.

When that time came, whether through bitter cultivation or adding points to improve, he would certainly comprehend Jing Power and become a Formal Disciple of the Qingyuan Sect.