The sky was dim.
In the area at the back of the Qinghe Palace disciple quarters, among the rooms belonging to the cultivation disciples.
Zhang Rongfang carefully lit the oil lamp with a fire starter.
The wick crackled slightly, as if it had touched a bit of water.
He lifted the oil lamp and placed it on the higher windowsill.
The lamp was a specially designed fuel-saving lamp.
It had a special design around the top, allowing water to be added, so the lamp oil would burn more slowly.
Looking at the dim glow of the oil lamp, Zhang Rongfang sighed inwardly.
'I used to hear people say that someone wasn't an oil-saving lamp, but seeing such a lamp now... I really understand the helplessness of life.'
The cultivation disciples of Qinghe Palace received a fixed oil allowance each month, averaging out to about five wens a day.
According to Zhang Rongfang's comparison over this period, the purchasing power was roughly equivalent to five Chinese cents from his previous life.
