As Gu An and Zhang Song ascended Cui Zhu Peak, they saw a ridge of verdant blue-green rising sharply into the clouds.
Mist wove through the mountains, bamboo swayed in the wind, and waves of green stretched endlessly, as if an immortal had waved a sleeve, giving the scene a lively, otherworldly charm.
A stone staircase wound upward, its surface dotted with moss. Slivers of sunlight filtered through the bamboo leaves, scattering across the damp stones, glowing like jade. The light danced lightly across the steps, adding an ethereal atmosphere—a truly immortal-like scene.
Yet even immortals have to worry about livelihood. Sixty years ago, during a Golden Core succession within the Qingyuan Sect, the sect spent a fortune to purchase a Golden Core spiritual artifact to assist Qingxiao Zhenren in forming his core.
To raise the necessary spiritual stones, the elder arranged for both frugality and resource development. It was at this time that Cui Zhu Peak was converted into a breeding ground for spirit beasts. At the mountain's base, over eighty bamboo-scented pigs were raised; mid-mountain held over two hundred colorful-feathered chickens, and the peak itself housed seventy-six Cui Zhu snakes.
The Qingyuan Sect had four to five such facilities just for raising these three types of spirit beasts—not to mention other enterprises. The sect was large and wealthy.
The Qingyuan Sect's famed restaurant, Qingyun Tower, was known far and wide for its heavenly bamboo-scented pig hocks, spiritual chicken stew, and Cui Zhu snake wine—all sourced from these spirit beasts.
Unfortunately, Gu An was poor. He didn't even dare enter Qingyun Tower, let alone taste its delicacies.
The two climbed the steps in thoughtful silence, and before they realized it, they had reached mid-mountain.
A narrow path branched to the left, only a hundred steps or so, leading directly to the Spirit Chicken Farm.
"Well, well, you two! The sun's rising from the west today! Rare to see you arrive on time!"
As they entered the farm, a mocking voice rang out. A thin figure appeared.
The man's face was pale, his cheeks hollow, cheekbones prominent. A pair of triangular eyes stared at them, lips pressed into a thin line, corners slightly downturned. His gaze slanted sharply toward the two.
"Hehe, Old Liu, you flatter me. The apricots in the courtyard just fell; I brought some especially for you today."
"Come, eat an apricot, eat one."
Gu An stepped forward, retrieving two pale-yellow apricots from his storage pouch. They were from the apricot tree in his courtyard. It was midsummer, the apricots had just ripened. Not spirit fruit by any means, but their sweet-sour taste was pleasant enough.
As for Director Liu's mocking tone, Gu An paid it no mind. Though Liu's appearance was harsh, he had never truly made things difficult for the two of them.
The Qingyuan Sect scheduled attendance at the farm during the third quarter of the Chen hour, leaving disciples enough time to train and travel while the morning purple aura still rose in the east.
Cui Zhu Peak was remote, and Gu An's cultivation low. He insisted on training until the purple aura completely dissipated, often causing him to be late. Zhang Song accompanied him, and thus was late as well.
Director Liu accepted the apricots, his expression softening slightly, but he didn't ask questions. Seeing Gu An's lingering spiritual energy, he could tell at a glance—a mid-stage Qi breakthrough.
Why ask for details? To have the boy describe the feelings of a breakthrough? Share his insights? He wouldn't embarrass himself like that!
Recalling his own past, Liu's heart ached slightly. Entrusted by his grandfather—a Foundation Establishment elder—to enter the Qingyuan Sect with five-element roots, he had struggled up to mid-stage Qi, enduring countless hardships.
Now seventy, he lacked the energy to cultivate further. With no talented descendants, he had taken a position as farm director. A little wine, an occasional spirit chicken, and a life of semi-idle leisure—enough to enjoy a bit of bliss.
Though Gu An had three-element roots, average talent in the wider cultivation world was still noteworthy.
In the Qingyuan Sect's twelve-hundred-year history, only the second-generation Golden Core ancestor possessed Heavenly Roots. Among two-element root disciples, the exceptional ones were Golden Core seeds; at worst, they could hope to reach Foundation Establishment.
Three-element root disciples occasionally reached Foundation Establishment; half of the sect's current Foundation Establishment cultivators were three-element root disciples. If nothing went wrong, Gu An might have a chance to attempt Foundation Establishment.
Four- or five-element root disciples? Harder. By sixty years old, they would likely never reach Qi Refinement Grand Completion; after sixty, declining vitality made Foundation Establishment unlikely.
Even if older cultivators could attempt Foundation Establishment, that opportunity wasn't guaranteed to those with insufficient talent, resources, or determination.
Liu took a bite of apricot, juice sliding down his throat, and grimaced.
"Too sour!"
"Old Liu, about the Qingyun Tower senior disciple coming today to pick up the spirit chickens…"
Zhang Song interrupted, shouting loudly, only to be met with an eye-roll.
"Why so concerned? Don't want to sell them? Keep them to warm your bed?"
"You—you… how dare you slander me like that!"
Though Zhang Song had been coming to the Spirit Chicken Farm for almost three years, he still couldn't parry Liu's teasing. Flushed with anger, he protested, unknowingly only drawing more interest from Liu.
This time, Liu merely cast him a sidelong glance and turned to Gu An.
"Gu An, you've been at this farm almost three years now, right?"
"Almost three years. I took over the farm task at age eleven—learning spirit grain combination, collecting spirit eggs, grooming feathers… a full year of experience.
"Second summer, a new batch of spirit chickens hatched. I followed you from chicks to full-grown birds.
"Third summer, the chickens hatched again. Zhang Song and I each took fifty to care for individually. Now, a new summer arrives. Qingyun Tower's senior will take the grown chickens, and it's time to hatch the next batch of chicks."
Gu An counted carefully. Almost three years had passed.