Watching Ning disappear into the hall, the three disciples lingered at the entrance, speaking in low tones.

  Zhang Feng cleared his throat first. "Once we enter, we'll likely be scattered into different assignments. Meeting again might not be easy."

  Wei Zhusang nodded. "That's true. Which is why I'm planning to form an association, something to gather us together."

  Lang Rulang arched a brow. "Was that your idea, or aunt's?"

  The three of them had grown up together, children of families with foundation-establishment elders, even tied by in-laws. They knew each other too well to bother with pretenses.

  Wei gave a small smile. "My mother suggested it. She said that even though our talent is among the best in our families, mid-grade roots won't let us skip ranks. Only high-grade roots can enter the outer sect directly. So, we need to rely on unity."

  Zhang Feng's voice grew louder, tinged with annoyance. "Hah! I still don't know what damned fortune the Xiao family stumbled upon, producing not just Xiao Han with a high-grade root, but even that so-called top-tier prodigy…"

  Rulang's expression sharpened. "Spiritual roots aren't everything. Given time, we can catch up."

  Wei Zhusang inclined his head. "Exactly. That's why this association matters. And I don't plan to limit it to just us three."

  Zhang Feng blinked. "You mean Brother Ning?"

  "Mm." Wei's tone was even. "He has an aptitude like ours, perhaps even better. His temperament seems steady, and most importantly, he has no backing. A descendant of mortals. That makes him… approachable. If we draw him in now, he may prove a reliable ally."

  Zhang Feng nodded. "He does seem like a good fit."

  Both boys turned toward Lang Rulang.

  She huffed. "Recruit whomever you like. I don't care. At least he seems… well-natured enough."

  Zhang Feng chuckled. "If he weren't, he'd have taken offense at your sharp tongue already."

  Wei laughed softly, while Rulang shot Zhang Feng a glare sharp enough to silence him. He coughed and looked away.

  At that moment, Ning emerged from the hall, a jade slip in hand. His steps were unhurried, his smile easy.

  "I walked in on something, didn't I?" he teased lightly.

  "Hmph." Rulang turned away, while the two boys only laughed.

  "It's nothing," Wei said quickly, patting Ning's arm. "Brother Ning, what task did they assign you?"

  "Spiritual farming," Ning answered. "What about you three?"

  "Weapons refining," Wei said.

  "Weapons refining as well," Zhang added.

  After a pause, Rulang spoke coolly. "Talismans."

  Ning's brow rose slightly. Just by the name, they were clearly in much better workplace environment than him, "So it's not random, then."

  Wei and Zhang glanced aside, while Rulang answered bluntly, "Some disciples give offerings to the elders. That way, they avoid the less desirable jobs."

  Ning fell silent. His purse, after all, was like an onion, opening it only brought tears.

  Sensing his mood, Zhang spoke up cheerfully. "Don't worry, Brother Ning. Farming's not the worst. It's far better than woodcutting… or taking honey from silverback bees. Their sting can cripple a man for months!"

  Wei nodded in agreement. "Yes. Farming can even bring certain advantages if done well."

  Rulang let out a quiet huff, but didn't contradict them.

  Ning smiled faintly. "I'm not worried. Where there are people, there are practices. The good positions will always go to those with the coin to claim them. No need to fuss over it."

  He shifted the topic with ease. "So then, what were you three discussing just now?"

  Wei Zhusang's tone grew earnest. "Cultivation rests on Dharma, companions, wealth, and land. We all come from Blue Flame City, and now that we've entered the sect, we should support one another. I was thinking we could meet once a month, exchange knowledge, and lend aid where needed."

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Ning considered it. "Makes sense. A single thread can't make a line, and a lone tree can't make a forest. Cultivation isn't something achieved in isolation." He gave a small nod. "I'll join."

  Wei's eyes brightened. "Good. And in time, I'd like to expand this into a proper association, not just us three."

  "That sounds wise," Ning agreed with a smile. His thoughts, however, turned inward. It seems not every family disciple is brainless like those confronting with Xiao Fan. With better upbringing, they've been surely given a better education.

  Though, perhaps the earlier nonsense was just the protagonist's halo at work…

  Wei looked around at them, eyes glinting. "Then let's call it the Mutual Aid Foundation."

  ...

  The jade slip sat cool in Ning's palm. A faint thread of silver light sparked to life the moment he fed a wisp of qi into it, unraveling into a glowing line that stretched into the distance. His own personal guidepost, pointing the way toward his assigned "spiritual farming" grounds.

  Convenient. At least he wouldn't have to wander around the sect looking like a lost chick. He had enough sight seeing as of now.

  Still, Ning's mind replayed Wei Zhusang's earlier words: Dharma, wealth, companions, land.

  The phrase summarized the prerequisite to succeed in cultivation. And Ning was not one to simply ignore it. After all, it was checklist that he would eventualy have to fill.

  "Dharma, must mean the cultivatic technique, magic and martial arts." Ning mumbled inwardly, pondering.

  Dharma referred to the path, the arts, the knowledge. For now, this was one of least of his concern, if his sect was strong enough to cultivate a Golden Core Patriarch, it had to have more than a few techniques tucked away. He'd just have to dig carefully.

  "As for companion, it seemed to have been solved already." Ning ticked of another one of the checklist.

  Companions. Allies, rivals, friends, the difference often blurred. The three earlier had surprised him by treating him with courtesy, even warmth, once they'd learned of his aptitude. In a world where backstabbing seemed to be a cultural pastime, that almost counted as generosity. If banding together kept knives out of his back, he'd gladly play the affable brother.

  "And land must mean the blessed land with spiritual veins." Ning pondered.

  While, 'Ji Ning' was unaware of such things, the previous talk with his now fellow daoists has made him aware of that.

  Spiritual veins. Blessed earth where qi pooled like water, nourishing herbs and cultivators alike. The true prize every disciple longed for. And, naturally, every worthwhile patch was already claimed by someone stronger, richer, or with better connections. Which explained why he was walking toward a farming assignment instead of a spiritual rich environment like Talisman Refining and Weapon Refining Halls.

  "This problem should be solved with increase in cultivation. Anyway, for a noob like me, any piece of land in this sect would be enough." Ning crossed another point.

  Then, finally, the bane of his existence. Money or as they call it here spiritual stones

  "This one is going to be a problem." Ning thought, walking past his fellow disciples as transparently as possible.

  Wealth. The lifeblood of cultivation. Spirit stones, pills, artifacts, resources he currently had in precisely zero supply. He almost snorted at the memory of Lang Rulang's jab. Then again, she was not wrong, if he wanted to succeed, he would have to eventually acquire some of it.

  "I can only hope farming pays better than it sounds," Ning muttered, slipping through the crowd. Not far enough to stray from the crowd, nor close enough to bump into anyone. Perfectly balanced as all things should be.

  Then he chuckled under his breath. "Dharma, wealth, companions, land. Really, it's just the four food groups of cultivation. Keep a balanced diet, or starve."