Renting a house

Near Grand Spirit Academy, Jia Nan had rented a house for young Shangguan Xue.

The house, though not expansive, boasted two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom.

Crucially, it featured a private entrance and courtyard, offering a tranquil retreat.

“The rent is only ten drops of Spiritlight Fluid per month,” Jia Nan remarked, “It’s so incredibly cheap, it’s practically being given away.”

Jia Nan offered her assessment.

Spiritlight Fluid, a substance only cultivators of the third realm, the Carefree Realm, could condense, served as a standard currency alongside copper coins and could be absorbed by others.

A single drop equated to one hundred copper coins.

As a cultivator of the Creation Realm, Jia Nan could effortlessly condense hundreds of millions of drops of Spiritlight Fluid in a mere breath, which explained her casual remark about the rent being ‘free’.

“You, old one, truly speak from a place of abundance, unaware of the common plight,” young Shangguan Xue retorted, rolling her eyes.

“An average Carefree Realm cultivator can only condense a dozen or so drops a month.”

“Is that so? I’d forgotten,” Jia Nan replied, her expression conveying a natural indifference.

‘Indeed, I suppose only I would keep track of such details…’ Shangguan Xue mused, blinking slowly.

“Nevertheless, this price is undeniably low,” she continued.

“Given its proximity to Grand Spirit Academy, the social value alone far exceeds this amount.”

“Something fishy?” Jia Nan mused, stroking her chin.

“Even if there is, it won’t pose a problem.”

Shangguan Xue hummed in affirmation.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked.

“If not, I’ll go busy myself.”

“Busy yourself with what?” Jia Nan asked, a hint of amusement in her gaze.

“Training.”

With an impassive expression, Shangguan Xue produced a wooden saber and headed into the courtyard to practice.

“It’s been ages since I last saw you practice your saber techniques,” Jia Nan remarked, pulling a stone stool closer and settling onto it, resting her chin on the backs of her hands as she observed Shangguan Xue.

“The very first time… that was twenty years ago, wasn’t it?”

“Twenty-five years ago, when I was fifteen,” Shangguan Xue corrected, her voice even as she continued her monotonous saber swings.

“We had only just met then.”

“How time flies,” Jia Nan sighed, a touch of wistfulness in her tone.

Shangguan Xue offered no reply.

In this brief span, she had become drenched in sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

‘This body’s stamina is still far too poor…’

‘Right, it’s because this body, having undergone reconstruction, grew naturally to this age without any prior training, so it’s inherently weak.’

‘Back then, I had trained since childhood, so when I began cultivating at fifteen, it felt relatively easy.’

Muttering inwardly, she managed a wry smile, but her hands never faltered, relentlessly chopping, stabbing, parrying, sweeping, and blocking.

“Aside from you, I haven’t encountered many who practice martial arts,” Jia Nan mused thoughtfully from her perch.

“It’s no wonder you’re unparalleled in close combat.”

‘I know, human cultivators are essentially mages, relying entirely on spiritual energy for combat; their close combat is just a chaotic flurry of blows…’

‘That’s why demon beasts, when fighting above their rank, actually win by relying on their superior physique, triumphing once they close the distance.’

Shangguan Xue was too utterly exhausted to utter a word, her body feeling as ponderous as a statue.

Nevertheless, her spiritual consciousness allowed her to grumble to herself in the depths of her mind.

A searing fire seemed to ignite within her chest, her lungs feeling on the verge of bursting from the intense heat and expansion.

Her throat scorched as if she had swallowed a red-hot needle, and her heart hammered wildly, threatening to rip itself free from her very being.

Thus, she spent the entire day practicing in the courtyard, with Jia Nan observing her throughout.

By evening, Shangguan Xue was utterly spent, on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.

She found herself unable to eat, her only desire to simply sprawl on the ground.

Observing her profound fatigue, Jia Nan sighed with a hint of helplessness, then gently patted Shangguan Xue’s back with an open palm.

“Why are you so hard on yourself?”

As the fox’s spiritual energy infused her body, Shangguan Xue slowly, laboriously, began to recover.

“If I weren’t so ruthless with myself, I would never have reached that point.”

Taking Shangguan Xue’s hand, Jia Nan pursed her lips.

“They’re all chafed raw,” she noted.

“Isn’t this normal?” Shangguan Xue grumbled weakly.

“Don’t heal them.”

A hint of confusion crossed Jia Nan’s face.

“Don’t heal them? Are you saving them as a special birthday treat?”

Shangguan Xue withdrew her small hand.

“This body is too delicate; it needs to become accustomed to hardship.”

“Accustoming yourself to pain?” Jia Nan sighed, then conceded, “Alright, as you wish.”

Lowering her head, Jia Nan twitched her nose, deliberately adopting an expression of profound distaste.

“Hurry up and eat, then go take a bath.

You reek.”

“Dog nose,” Shangguan Xue retorted with a dismissive ‘tsk,’ yet she still went to eat the meal Jia Nan had prepared.

“What is this?”

“Spirit Beast meat, to help you recover your strength.”

Spirit Beasts differed from Demon Beasts: the former were unintelligent and served as sustenance, while the latter possessed sentience and were cultivators.

“Thanks.”

As Shangguan Xue swallowed the last morsel of meat, a warm current spread from her abdomen throughout her limbs.

Her spiritual energy, invigorated by this warmth and accelerated by the ‘Rays of Light,’ surprisingly increased even further.

‘Indeed, with so little spiritual energy, almost anything could stimulate its growth.’

A wry, amused expression touched Shangguan Xue’s face as she set down her bowl and chopsticks, then went to wash up.

The wooden tub in the washroom, a ninth-grade—the lowest quality—spirit treasure, served only to heat water, thereby providing hot baths.

“Who exactly invents these spirit treasures that hold no value in combat but significantly improve people’s daily lives?”

Fully immersed in the wooden tub, this question suddenly popped into Shangguan Xue’s mind.

Upon emerging from her bath, she shared her bewilderment with Jia Nan, only to be met with an expression of profound shock.

“Enough with the shock, just tell me,” Shangguan Xue said, wrapping her hair in a towel.

“Was it the Ink Pavilion, the Sun Palace, or the Violet Mist Tower?”

“The Profound Mechanism Hall, a subsidiary of the Ink Pavilion,” Jia Nan replied, her expression utterly speechless.

“Didn’t Qingmei ever mention it?”

“Probably not,” Shangguan Xue replied, crossing her arms in an ‘X’ before her.

“Such things don’t exist in the Southern Continent anyway.”

“By the time I arrived in the Central Continent, I no longer had any use for such items, so I never inquired,” she explained.

“And if I don’t ask, they certainly won’t proactively discuss their work with me.”

Once cultivators reached a certain realm, they could purify themselves using spiritual energy.

Spirit treasures like hot water tubs, therefore, were primarily intended for common folk.

“That’s true,” Jia Nan conceded, nodding to confirm that they indeed avoided discussing work matters with her.

“I’m going to rest.”

Shangguan Xue yawned.

Having enjoyed a hot bath, she felt her weariness return with renewed force.

Back in her bedroom, Shangguan Xue settled into a cross-legged position, dedicating herself to cultivation.

Following the ‘Martial Art’ spiritual technique she cultivated, she circulated spiritual energy within her body, gradually absorbing the ambient spiritual energy of heaven and earth to generate new energy within herself.

“It seems… a little different?” Jia Nan murmured, leaning against the doorframe and sensing for a moment.

Her brow furrowed slightly.

“The circulation of her spiritual energy is subtly different from before.”

Upon sensing more carefully once more, Jia Nan broke into a smile.

“She’s improved the Martial Art!”

While the former Martial Art was accessible to any cultivator, this refined version could only be practiced by those with exceptionally poor talent.

Yet, its effects had been vastly amplified, effectively transforming it into a ‘Saint-grade’ spiritual art, custom-tailored for Shangguan Xue herself.

This realization prompted a sigh of admiration from Jia Nan:

“No wonder humanity’s development outpaces that of demon beasts…”

“The fact that demon beasts don’t require spiritual arts is both an advantage and a disadvantage,” she mused.

“Humans, however, constantly refine their spiritual arts, leading to progressively faster cultivation.”

“It once took humans two centuries to reach the Creation Realm.

Now, individuals of exceptional talent can achieve it in merely twenty years, and who knows, it might become even quicker in the future.”

“Yet, for demon beasts, reaching the Creation Realm has consistently required three to five centuries.”