The young man's eyes shone, filled with determination and longing for the future.
His mother froze, then her eyes reddened. "Son! Joining the army means going to war. Can't you just stay safely at home?"
Though her son had become a cultivator, blades and swords had no eyes on the battlefield. One careless moment, and he could lose his life. The woman did not want him to enlist.
The young man looked resolute as he glanced at their dilapidated home and the scant food remaining.
"Mother, look at our family. The rice jar is nearly empty. If I enlist and pass the selection, there'll be five taels of settlement silver—enough for you and my sister to eat for half a year. Even if I fail, the government will still give us five taels of silver!"
Cultivators needed to eat and survive as well.
Because they were cultivators, they ate even more than ordinary people.
To improve their cultivation, they needed cultivation resources.
Yet cultivation resources were precious, and difficult for them to obtain.
Cultivation required money. Even if one possessed extraordinary talent, without resources to support it, one would soon fade into the crowd.
The young man harbored great ambitions. He knew that if he did not seize this opportunity, he would remain in the Body Tempering Realm for the rest of his life, with no further chance to change his fate.
His mother opened her mouth, looked at his youthful yet resolute face, and finally stopped trying to dissuade him.
Silently, she pulled out a string of copper coins from beneath her pillow and stuffed it into his hand.
"Go buy some meat and nourish yourself properly. Don't go enlist on an empty stomach."
Clutching the copper coins, the young man's nose stung. He nodded hard, then turned and