After getting acquainted with Zhang Shan, Sun Kang, and Liu Lan, Old Daoist Li learned that private fights were strictly forbidden. He had no choice but to temporarily shelve his plan to teach Han Yu a lesson. Instead, he asked the three about the intricacies of tending spirit fields.

Seeing that Old Daoist Li and Han Yu were completely clueless, Zhang Shan and the others gave them a brief rundown.

Old Daoist Li and Han Yu noticed that while speaking, the three couldn’t help but glance nervously toward Steward Wang’s residence. It was clear that Steward Wang treated these Laborer Disciples harshly; those who had arrived earlier felt the oppression keenly.

After the brief introductions, Zhang Shan, Sun Kang, and Liu Lan returned to their own stone huts.

Old Daoist Li shot Han Yu a glare and snorted coldly. “Tomorrow, show me that jade slip Senior Brother Jin gave you!”

Han Yu nodded silently, then asked, “Master Daoist, what about this black raven…?”

“Keep it if you want. I am walking the Orthodox Cultivation Path now. I won’t be practicing blood arts anymore!” With that, Old Daoist Li turned and stormed off.

Han Yu watched him enter his stone hut, then gathered his own clothes and the jade slip before entering his assigned quarters. The large raven flapped its wings and followed him inside.

The hut was spartan: a simple bed, a table, and a chair. A small stove, a water vat, and buckets stood by the door. There was no bedding, no bowls, and no utensils.

Han Yu stripped off his tattered clothes and patiently washed and groomed himself. Peering into the water vat, he saw a pair of bright eyes staring back at him.

He smiled at his reflection, then changed into the grey robes of a Laborer Disciple. Finding no food in the hut, he sat on the bed, pressed the jade slip to his forehead, and closed his eyes.

At first, he only felt a cold sensation against his skin. As he focused his mind, the contents of the jade slip gradually flowed into his consciousness.

“Qi is like green grain born of fertile soil; only with deep roots can the leaves be lush. This is the Wanchun Valley’s foundational ‘Qi Refining Art,’ also known as the ‘Green Grain Qi Cultivation Method’.”

Han Yu concentrated fully, striving to comprehend the cultivation method. Once he grasped the mechanics, he eagerly began his first attempt.

Half an hour later, having achieved absolutely nothing, he reluctantly gave up. He then turned his attention to the section of the jade slip concerning daily life, provided by Senior Brother Jin Qi.

After reading it and combining the information with Zhang Shan’s earlier descriptions, Han Yu understood more clearly that life within the Wanchun Valley sect was not a carefree paradise of unrestricted cultivation.

The sect had strict rules. Patrols, artifact forging, pill refining, talisman creation, missions to slay demons, and disciple competitions—all had detailed regulations.

Following the rules earned “Major Merit” or “Minor Merit,” which could be exchanged for cultivation manuals, magical artifacts, pills, and other resources within the sect. Breaking the rules meant punishment; severe cases could even lead to crippled cultivation or imprisonment.

Even tasks like tending medicine gardens, planting spirit fields, and the duties of Stewards and Deacons were governed by rigid codes.

Han Yu skimmed the other sections, focusing intently on memorizing the specific rules for planting his assigned spirit field.

As he finished this mental work, a series of hoarse caw-caw sounds reached his ears.

The large raven was hungry again.

Han Yu opened the small jar containing the horse’s Blood Essence. The raven immediately hopped over, dipping its beak into the jar to drink greedily.

Han Yu waited for it to fill its belly before sealing the jar and gesturing for it to leave.

The satisfied raven cawed happily and waddled to the doorway.

Han Yu closed the door. He condensed his own essence blood, duplicated it, and began practicing today’s Blood Refining Art.

For now, he hadn’t even begun to grasp the foundational Qi Refining Art provided by Wanchun Valley. After some thought, he concluded that continuing to practice the Blood Refining Art was his only means of gaining some self-preservation ability.

Crucially, since he could duplicate his own essence blood to meet the requirements for cultivation, he eliminated the need to hunt for Blood Food.

Another half hour passed. A faint flush of blood-colored light flashed across Han Yu’s face. The Blood Essence within his body grew more abundant, showing a twenty percent improvement compared to before.

Early the next morning, Old Daoist Li arrived outside Han Yu’s stone hut with a grim expression.

“Have you eaten yet, little brat?”

Han Yu handed him the jade slip from Jin Qi. “Not yet. The jade slip says newcomers to the sect can approach the Steward for food, clothing, and lodging arrangements.”

Old Daoist Li snorted. “I doubt it’ll be that easy!”

He had seen Steward Wang’s attitude and how Zhang Shan and the others seemed to fear him like a tiger. Asking that man for food and supplies was bound to invite trouble.

He glanced at the large raven perched on Han Yu’s roof. It ignored him completely.

Li snorted again. “Feathered beast. As if I wanted to keep you!”

After entering Wanchun Valley, he had no way to obtain new Blood Food. Nor did he plan to continue practicing that Pseudo-Immortal Method. Naturally, he couldn’t continue feeding the raven with Blood Essence. In his eyes, the raven was nothing but dead weight. It was best if Han Yu took it off his hands.

As they spoke, other Laborer Disciples from the valley’s spirit fields passed by on the path. Since both Han Yu and Old Daoist Li were now wearing the standard grey robes, no one paid them any particular attention.

Zhang Shan, Sun Kang, and Liu Lan came over to greet them again.

Seeing they were relatively approachable, Old Daoist Li asked about bedding and food.

At this question, Sun Kang looked somewhat sympathetic. “If you’re really in a bind, I can help you exchange for some ordinary rice first. As for bedding… once you reach the first layer of Qi Refining, you basically won’t need it anymore. It doesn’t get overly cold here in the Spirit Field Department.”

Old Daoist Li and Han Yu were both pleased and hurried to express their thanks.

But Zhang Shan suddenly let out a sharp, warning cough. “Ahem!”

They all turned quickly. Steward Wang, belly protruding and hands clasped behind his back, had already arrived at the edge of Han Yu’s spirit field plot. His expression was full of malice.

“What are you all huddled together for so early in the morning instead of tending your fields?!”

At his reprimand, Zhang Shan, Sun Kang, and Liu Lan instantly scattered like mice seeing a cat. They answered cautiously and hurried away.

Steward Wang, hands still behind his back, walked up to Han Yu and Old Daoist Li, eyeing them up and down.

“Good, you’re both here. I’ve brought the Green Grain Rice seeds. Remember, these are not for eating. They are specially treated spirit seeds from the sect. If anyone steals even a single grain to eat, the sect will know immediately. They must all be planted in the ground!”

“Both of you, tend your assigned spirit fields well. The harvest is every six months, with a yield of fifty jin of Green Grain Rice per mu.”

“If you meet this target, you may keep ten percent for yourselves, and the sect will record one ‘Minor Merit’ per mu for you. If you don’t meet it, but yield over thirty jin per mu, there is no punishment. However, you cannot keep any Green Grain Rice privately; it must all be handed over, and you earn no merit.”

“If the yield falls below thirty jin per mu, you will be punished!”

With that, Steward Wang tossed down two bags of seeds and turned to leave.

Old Daoist Li quickly spoke up. “Steward Wang, please wait! I have a small question!”

“Spit it out!” Steward Wang stopped impatiently.

“I remember Deacon Fang told us we could keep twenty percent of the spirit field harvest…” Old Daoist Li said softly, head bowed. “I don’t know if I remembered wrong.”

Steward Wang snapped impatiently, “You can keep twenty percent! But this is your first year. Your cultivation is insufficient, and you haven’t harvested any Green Grain Rice yet. Who do you think provides your food and drink? That other ten percent covers your normal consumption! Do you think I enjoy meddling in your affairs, you old coot?”

“Then… could we… not trouble you, Steward Wang, and find our own way to handle food and drink?”

As soon as Old Daoist Li finished speaking, Han Yu saw Steward Wang bring two fingers together, point, and shout, “Go!”

A streak of bright white light whistled through the air.

Old Daoist Li, a former martial arts master who had practiced the Pseudo-Immortal Method, was sent flying. It was as if a giant hammer had struck him. He landed hard on the ground, blood trickling from his nose and mouth.

“Old coot, did you think I was negotiating with you?” Steward Wang asked coldly. “If there’s a next time, I won’t be so lenient!”

With that, he flicked his sleeve and strode away.

Han Yu stared blankly at the scene, inexplicably reminded of the time his family home was seized by the village chief’s family. He walked over and helped Old Daoist Li up.

“Master Daoist, are you alright?”