Eternal Immortal Dynasty: Starting as a Petty Official

As I walked to the front of my own courtyard, the sun was setting, hanging just above the treetops.

Smoke curls from chimneys, and the fragrance of rice permeates the streets and alleys.

The courtyard gate was ajar, revealing a crack, and Zhao Xian pushed it open and went inside.

"Dalang is back!"

Upon hearing the sound, Madam Zhao came out of the house and immediately said with a smile.

"Your mother cooked you some spirit rice porridge; you can have spirit rice again tonight!"

"Mother, where are Erlang and Little Sister?"

Zhao Xian looked around the courtyard but couldn't see his younger siblings. He asked in confusion.

In the past, even before he entered the courtyard, he could hear the two of them chattering noisily outside the wall.

"You went to your father's house."

Zhao Xushi's voice came from the thatched hut, accompanied by a faint fragrance of rice.

"Why did you go to Grandpa's?"

Zhao Xian was slightly taken aback, then turned and walked out of the courtyard.

"Grandpa happens to have a cow horn bow at home. It's a bit old, but it still works. It's just sitting there doing nothing anyway, so I might as well let you use it."

Zhao Xushi's voice came intermittently from the courtyard, but Zhao Xian had already walked a little further away.

The inner courtyards are lined up one after another, and Zhao Xian's family and his grandfather's family are separated by two rows of courtyards.

Before long, Zhao Xian arrived at his grandfather's door.

The rammed earth walls of the courtyard were only five or six feet high, and after years of wind and rain, they were dilapidated and covered with spider web-like cracks.

Two vegetable plots were cultivated along the wall, with green shoots sprouting from them—one plot of winter vegetables and the other of chives, exuding vibrant green life.

The courtyard gate closed, but Zhao Xian pushed it open gently, went inside, and then closed the gate again.

......

In mid-September, the nights grew colder, and a fire was lit inside the house, casting several shadows on the wall.

"Oh, Jiulang's here!"

A young woman carrying a swaddled baby walked out of the room and saw Zhao Xian. She immediately smiled and said something.

"Greetings, sister-in-law!"

Upon hearing the voice, Zhao Xian immediately greeted him with a smile.

"My grandfather, father, and two uncles are all inside."

Zhao Xian nodded slightly and stepped into the house.

Inside the room, a brazier was burning, casting a dim light, and several burly men sat around it.

At the table to the side, Zhao Hong and Zhao Yu were engrossed in eating their rice, completely unaware of Zhao Xian's arrival.

"Greetings, Grandfather!"

"..."

Zhao Xian bowed to each of them, then glanced at his father, Zhao Yi.

"Kuro, come and sit down!"

When his elder brother Zhao Zheng called out, Zhao Xian, without any formalities, sat down directly beside him.

"What did Lord Ting say when he summoned you to his residence?"

After Zhao Xian was seated, his grandfather Zhao Mu asked a question.

His thick beard trembled slightly as he spoke, and the firelight illuminated his face, making it as red as a ripe date.

"Grandfather, Tingjun summoned me to inquire about various matters within the family."

Zhao Xian told the truth.

When my grandfather Zhao Mu was young, he had served in the military camp of the prefecture and county and fought with cultivators from the Southern Prefecture for several years. He was considered one of the most knowledgeable people in the clan.

"Tingjun comes from the Chen family, a prominent clan in the county, yet he came to serve as the head of Shanghuting. He must be from a collateral branch of the clan."

Zhao Mu pondered for a moment, then looked around at everyone and solemnly said, "His painstaking efforts to win over the people of Shanghuting must have some ulterior motive!"

"But what their true intentions are remains unknown!"

"Father is absolutely right!"

"We definitely need to be careful!"

Uncle Zhao Ren was the first to agree, and the others nodded in agreement as well.

"Besides that, what else did Tingjun say?" Zhao Mufu asked again.

"Tingjun instructed me not to practice the 'Black Tiger Fighting Fist,' saying that young people's aptitude is not yet fully developed, and practicing this fist would harm their future cultivation potential!"

Zhao Xianli spoke again immediately.

"Pooh!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a dark-skinned, thin man at the head of the table shouted, "I knew Zhao De was up to no good! He taught Jiulang Fist for no reason, all because of his wicked intentions! That old bastard!"

"What are you shouting about in the dead of night!"

Zhao Mu glared at the dark-skinned, thin man and reprimanded him in a low voice.

The dark-skinned, thin man was Zhao Xian's uncle, Zhao Li. Although his name contained the character "Li" (meaning "propriety"), he was the most hot-tempered of the four brothers.

Grandfather Zhao Muyu had four sons and two daughters: the eldest son Zhao Ren, the second son Zhao Yi, the third son Zhao Li, and the youngest son Zhao Zhi. Unfortunately, he was unable to complete the last character of his name.

My grandmother has passed away. My uncle Zhao Ren and his family live with my grandfather. He has two sons, the eldest son Zhao Zheng and the second son Zhao Zhi. Zhao Xian should address him as his elder brother.

Sitting above Zhao Xian is his eldest brother, Zhao Zheng. His second brother, Zhao Ji, travels with his uncle, Zhao Zhi, to do business, which is quite arduous.

"Father, among the clansmen in Yangping Village, I dislike him the most!"

"If he hadn't returned home early and used the talisman, the position of head of this place would have been Father's."

Zhao Li was still indignant.

"Alright, that's old news, why bring it up!"

Zhao Mu glared at Zhao Li, then turned to Zhao Xian and asked seriously, "Did Tingjun say anything else?"

"Furthermore, as I am new to the Dao, I must not circulate my Qi or practice internal energy for the next month. I need to quietly cultivate my magical power until it is stronger before I begin practicing new techniques!"

"Ideally, all three meals a day should consist of spirit rice!"

Zhao Xian continued respectfully.

"As expected of someone from a prominent family, these few words of advice are worth a fortune!"

Zhao Mu stroked his beard and said with a wry smile.

Like Zhao Xian, he practiced the art of cultivating internal energy.

He was selected as a Dao soldier in his youth and fought on the battlefield for many years. He was seriously injured several times, which damaged his foundation and potential. In the end, he stopped progressing before reaching the seventh level of Qi Refining.

"Erlang!" Zhao Mu looked at Zhao Yi and asked in a deep voice, "Your family's spiritual land is only one mu. After paying taxes this year, how much will be left?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yi's eyes lit up with joy, and he replied, "Father, the yield of Crescent Moon Rice is one shi and eight dou per mu. After paying seventy percent of the taxes, there are only five dou and four sheng left. After deducting the spiritual seeds and fertilizer for next year, there are really no more than three dou left."

"The saying goes, 'A half-grown boy can eat his father out of house and home'..." Zhao Mu murmured, then turned to Zhao Xian and said with a gentle smile, "A pound of spirit rice a day probably won't be enough to fill my grandson's stomach! The spirit fields under my name are now being cultivated by my eldest son. Eldest son, why don't you spare some, as a token of our gratitude for your and my congratulations on Jiulang's entry into the Dao?"

After a moment's thought, Zhao Mu finished instructing Zhao Zheng and then looked at Zhao Li, "As the uncle, you also need to prepare a congratulatory gift!"

"Father is absolutely right. Jiulang is now highly regarded by Tingjun, and we must not hinder his cultivation!"

Uncle Zhao Ren immediately stroked his beard and said with a smile.

"In that case, my grandfather and I will take out two..." Zhao Ren had not finished speaking when he suddenly heard a soft cough from behind him.

A robust woman came over with fire tongs, carrying a piece of firewood, and added it to the brazier.

"aunt!"

Zhao Xian quickly stood up to greet him.

"The night is getting colder, why didn't you think to add a piece of wood!"

The robust woman glared at Zhao Ren, then smiled at Zhao Xian and said, "It's been a few days, Jiulang looks even stronger!"

Distracted by his aunt, the uncle blushed. After she left, he cleared his throat and spoke again, "My father and I will take out ten catties of spirit rice. What does Jiulang think?"

"Thank you, Grandfather! Thank you, Uncle, for your help!"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xian rose and bowed respectfully to the two of them.

Before he could even sit down, his uncle Zhao Li chimed in, "I'll also take out five catties of spirit rice; I'll have A-Duan deliver it tomorrow!"

A-Duan is Zhao Duan, the eldest son of Zhao Li. His second son is Zhao Bing, and the two sons are from the same mother. Zhao Duan is a little over a year younger than Zhao Xian. They now live with Zhao Li and work on the farm.

"Thank you, Uncle!"

Zhao Xian bowed deeply to Zhao Li again.

As the saying goes, for ordinary people, firewood and rice are precious. For these rural folks, five catties of spirit rice is no small amount. It can be equivalent to a bushel of white rice, a hundred talisman coins, or even a spirit stone!

Today, Zhao Xian hit the bullseye with ten arrows out of ten, yet the Pavilion Lord only rewarded him with a single spirit stone.

Zhao Xian understood his aunt's little trick just now, but he felt no resentment whatsoever.

If they were not blood relatives, why didn't other members of the clan send them sacred rice to support Zhao Xian's cultivation?