Chapter Three: The Family Mission

In the cultivation world, time passes unnoticed; months slip by in the blink of an eye. For the past three months, Song Changsheng devoted himself to diligent cultivation, while taking odd jobs in crafting artifacts and setting up formations to earn spirit stones. His life felt fulfilling and joyful.

Yet such tranquility was not to last.

Within the clan’s administrative hall, Song Changsheng gathered with a dozen or so peers, all wearing equally bewildered expressions. None had any inkling as to why they had been summoned.

“Hey, cousin, do you know what this is about? Is it something good or bad?” a rather scrawny youth nudged Song Changsheng with his elbow.

The others immediately turned to him as well. After all, everyone knew he was not only the clan leader’s direct grandson, but also the sole son of Elder Xia Yunxue. As one of the family’s most promising Foundation Establishment candidates, surely he would have some inside information.

Song Changsheng could only shake his head with a bitter smile. “I really have no idea.”

There was no need for him to lie about such things; soon enough, everyone would know. But it was precisely this ignorance that intensified everyone’s curiosity, and soon speculation buzzed through the hall, growing increasingly outlandish as it went on.

Before the wildest guesses could take hold, a voice suddenly rang out, “The Grand Elder arrives!”

The once noisy hall fell instantly silent as all eyes turned to the entrance.

A tall, thin middle-aged man strolled in with an effortless grace. He wore a robe of black trimmed in gold, adorned with silver moon-cloud patterns, a white jade crown atop his head, his keen eyes shining beneath temples dusted with gray.

Song Changsheng and the others immediately cupped their hands in salute. “Greetings, Grand Elder!”

This was Song Xianyun, the Grand Elder of the clan, one of only two remaining Foundation Establishment cultivators of his generation, and one who had reached the latter stages of Foundation Establishment. With the clan leader Song Xianming often in seclusion, Song Xianyun managed most of the clan’s affairs. His presence signaled that this matter was no trivial one, and a palpable tension filled the room.

“At ease,” Song Xianyun’s voice, though aged, carried a commanding authority.

His gaze swept over the gathered youths, lingering briefly on Song Changsheng before he spoke: “Children, you are all still underage, and by clan rules, should be devoting yourselves to cultivation in the mountains. But the clan is short-handed, and there are many positions vacant in our businesses beyond the mountain. After deliberation, the council of elders has decided to send you down the mountain ahead of schedule to serve the clan. As this contravenes the rules, the choice is yours—if any of you do not wish to go, you may tell me privately, and none will be punished.”

“For those willing, the clan will not treat you unfairly: in addition to your usual cultivation resources, you will receive ten jin of spirit rice and two Spirit Gathering Pills each month.”

Everyone was stunned. To be sent down the mountain early meant losing the precious opportunity to continue cultivating atop a third-grade spiritual vein. Discontent flickered on many faces.

Yet some considered the compensation generous—these were mostly those with poorer innate talent. If Foundation Establishment was out of reach, better to serve the clan early and accumulate contribution points and spirit stones to secure a future for their descendants.

Song Xianyun observed all this without a flicker of emotion. “To ensure fairness,” he continued solemnly, “tasks will be assigned by drawing lots. Whoever draws, must accept their lot. Who will draw first?”

All eyes immediately fell on Song Changsheng. Among them, he had the strongest backing and was regarded as the foremost genius of their generation. Everyone clearly wanted him to go first.

Song Changsheng responded calmly: “The clan has raised me for sixteen years. Now, in its time of need, it is only right that I answer the call.”

With that, he stepped forward and drew a jade lot from the tube. The words inscribed upon it read: “Immortal Ascension Assembly.”

He blinked in surprise—so his task was the Immortal Ascension Assembly. A short-term duty, unlikely to interfere with his cultivation.

With someone taking the lead, the others stepped forward to draw their lots, whether willingly or otherwise. Though the Grand Elder had said they could refuse, not a single person did so.

They might grumble, but after being nurtured by the clan for so many years, it was time to give back. This was their home, after all.

Back in his courtyard, Song Changsheng examined the details of his assignment: “One month from now, accompany the Steward of the Spirit Testing Hall down the mountain to measure spiritual roots in the mortal city. Rewards are tied to the number and quality of spiritual roots discovered.”

“One month until the Immortal Ascension Assembly—plenty of time to prepare.” Song Changsheng was pleased. Sixteen years in this world, he had yet to see the world beyond the mountains. This was a perfect opportunity.

Moreover, his mother, Xia Yunxue, was stationed in the mortal city. He could visit her as well—their last meeting had been the previous year, and the family wine was nearly gone. Time to restock.

As an outsider who had won the clan’s support for Foundation Establishment, Xia Yunxue possessed extraordinary skills—she was a mid-grade, second-tier brewing master.

Brewmasters were a rather niche profession among cultivators, but their concoctions often possessed wondrous properties and brought the clan considerable profit.

With such a mother, Song Changsheng had grown up steeped in wine, which gave him a solid foundation—and a lifelong fondness for drink. But this was hardly unusual; cultivators were known for their eccentricities.

“The treasure gourd I forged years ago is rather limited in combat. If I engrave an array within, transforming it into a Water-Fire Gourd and pairing it with the Water-Fire Command technique, my combat power could rise another notch,” Song Changsheng mused.

The wine gourd at his waist was in fact his personal artifact—a mid-grade, first-tier item. Having only recently advanced to a high-grade, first-tier artifact craftsman, he’d never gotten around to upgrading it. Now that he was headed down the mountain, it was the perfect time to refine it anew.

“One month is plenty to improve the gourd. My first journey down the mountain deserves proper preparation.”

He set to work immediately, heading to the Contribution Hall and exchanging three hundred points for several pieces of water and fire attribute ore, another two hundred for pills and talismans, spending the better part of his hoarded contributions.

The world below was far less predictable than the safety of the mountains; it was wise to prepare for every contingency.

“Only three hundred points left. I’ll need to be more frugal from now on,” he sighed, glancing at the number on his identity token.

Clan contribution points were exceedingly precious—one point could be exchanged for a low-grade spirit stone, but not vice versa. Contribution points could be traded for any resource within the clan’s treasury, and any technique in the Scripture Pavilion.

Thus, within the clan, contribution points were even more valuable than spirit stones.

As a Foundation Establishment candidate, Song Changsheng received an annual stipend of fifty spirit stones and three hundred contribution points. That sounded like a lot, but the expenses were considerable; the title of genius was built atop a mound of resources.

Eight years into his cultivation, he now possessed only around two hundred spirit stones and three hundred points—this, thanks to the odd jobs he’d taken over the years. Otherwise, he would have been penniless by now.

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