Physical enlightenment begins with Xingyi Quan

Chapter 96 The Butler (Please subscribe! Happy New Year to all my godfathers!)

Deacon Zhao stared at Chen Jianghe for a full three breaths, his eyes, slightly cloudy from years of working at his desk, gleaming with disbelief.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

In the end, he simply took a deep breath and suppressed his shock.

"A disciple of the Gang Jin realm—" he repeated in a low voice, then shook his head with a wry smile, "Junior Brother Chen, I've never seen such progress in all my years working in the Mission Hall."

Chen Jianghe's expression remained unchanged; he simply watched him quietly.

"The duties are divided into three categories." He raised his head, looked at Chen Jianghe, and said in a more serious tone, "Now that Junior Brother Chen has entered the Gang Jin realm, he is qualified to take on these duties. Let me explain them to you first, and then you can choose."

Chen Jianghe nodded: "Thank you for your trouble, Steward Zhao."

Deacon Zhao cleared his throat and introduced, "The first category is sect patrol deacons. They are mainly responsible for patrolling and guarding key locations such as the mountain gate, armory, and scripture peak."

He paused, then looked up at Chen Jianghe: "This job is dangerous, but extremely so. After all, it's a sacred ground of the sect, with elders in charge, so no scoundrels dare to trespass. It's just—it's quite mentally taxing."

He sighed, his tone tinged with the helplessness of someone who'd been through it all: "A patrol of the mountain usually takes half a day. You have to be observant and attentive, check the integrity of all the restrictions, and question the disciples who come and go at night for anything unusual—it's tedious, cumbersome, and exhausting. The safety of the sect is of paramount importance, and there's no room for carelessness. So, although this job isn't particularly dangerous, it's the most mentally taxing. And because the danger is extremely low, the pay is also the lowest."

Chen Jianghe listened silently, already having made up his mind.

A mentally taxing job is not suitable for him.

What he needs are tasks that allow him time to cultivate, rather than miscellaneous tasks that keep him busy and distracted all day.

Deacon Zhao continued, "The second category is deacons in the Five Academies. The Mission Hall does not issue these kinds of assignments."

He looked at Chen Jianghe, his gaze carrying a deeper meaning: "The alchemy rooms, skill transmission pavilions, weapon forging rooms, and armories of each academy are all staffed by disciples of the academy. These positions are mostly appointed by the academy head or elders themselves, and the people have been decided long ago. Outsiders cannot interfere."

Chen Jianghe nodded.

This has nothing to do with him.

"The third category—" Deacon Zhao paused, tapping his finger on the booklet, "are the deacons of the sect's external businesses. Herb field deacons, hunting ground patrol officers, and mine inspectors."

He looked at Chen Jianghe and explained one by one, "Being a steward of the medicinal herb fields, to put it bluntly, means understanding the art of cultivation. Which plot of land should plant which medicinal herbs, when to fertilize, when to water, when to harvest, when to dry—these are the intricacies. If you don't understand them, you simply don't understand. Even if you're a master cultivator..."

It's a powerful, unyielding force; if you don't understand the properties of medicinal herbs, the seasons, or the soil, you'll be completely lost if you go there.

He stroked his beard: "This job can be done by disciples of the Transformation Realm. But they are responsible for the annual yield. A good harvest brings a reward; a poor harvest results in a deduction from their salary. If there are natural disasters or insect infestations, any reduction in production must be justified and documented; otherwise—they will bear the responsibility themselves."

Chen Jianghe recalled the densely packed records in the "Illustrated Compendium of Herbs" and understood.

The steward of the medicinal herb field must be proficient in the properties of medicinal herbs and knowledgeable in the methods of cultivation.

Although he had memorized five hundred kinds of medicinal herbs, it was all theoretical knowledge. If he were to actually manage a medicinal herb field, it would be too much for him.

"Mining Inspector—" Inspector Zhao continued, "This job is in a remote area. My Xingyi Sect has three iron mines and one copper mine in Changxi Prefecture, all located deep in the mountains and forests. It takes several months to go there, and the environment is harsh with simple food and lodging."

He looked at Chen Jianghe, his gaze carrying a hint of admonition: "Your main responsibility is to supervise the mining operations, verify the daily output, and check for any omissions in the accounts. This job offers some perks, but not much. Moreover—it's a remote place, prone to trouble."

Chen Jianghe frowned slightly.

This job is too remote and too far away.

He needed to stay in the sect, stabilize his cultivation level, cultivate the "Withered Tree Rejuvenates Technique," and comprehend the true meaning of spear intent.

Several months passed, and everything was ruined.

After explaining these three categories, Deacon Zhao closed the book and looked at Chen Jianghe.

Finally, he lowered his voice, his eyes revealing a shrewdness only an old deacon possessed: "There's one more thing, the hunting ground deacon."

Chen Jianghe's heart stirred slightly.

Deacon Zhao looked at him and said slowly, "You've been to that hunting ground, number seven of the Bing class, but you only went for a day before encountering the Demonic Sect, so you probably don't know much about it."

Chen Jianghe nodded.

Deacon Zhao continued, "These hunting ground deacons—well, they're also a third category, but they're different from the others."

He stroked his beard, his tone carrying a hint of meaning: "Being a hunting ground steward is known to be very lucrative."

Chen Jianghe listened quietly.

"Think about it," Deacon Zhao counted on his fingers, "First, you only need to patrol for two hours each day to check if the fence is damaged or if any strange beasts have crossed the boundary. The rest of the time is entirely at your disposal."

"Secondly, the exotic beasts kept in the hunting grounds are more or less prone to accidents. For example, the old, weak, sick, or disabled ones; those that die in fights; or those that die during childbirth. According to regulations, these exotic beasts must be reported to the sect and handled by designated personnel. But—"

He paused, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "But if the deacon secretly keeps a little meat for himself before reporting it, as long as it's not excessive, the sect won't interfere too much. After all, every part of a beast is valuable; its flesh replenishes qi and blood, its tendons and bones are used to make weapons, and its fur is used for armor. Who would say anything if they occasionally have a treat for their junior brothers and sisters?"

Chen Jianghe understood.

Being a hunting ground steward is indeed a lucrative job.

No wonder Sun Hongyao was so arrogant and disdainful of everyone, yet she firmly held the position of manager of Hunting Ground No. 7.

What makes someone at the peak of the Transformation Realm?

It was because her grandfather, Sun Yuhai, was an elder of the Jinshu Academy.

It's based on those unspoken rules.

"However—" Deacon Zhao changed the subject, lowering his voice slightly, "Ever since the Sun Hongyao incident, the sect has issued a strict order. Hunting ground deacons must be disciples of the Gang Jin realm. Furthermore, they must not show favoritism or use back channels; they must be selected openly from the Mission Hall."

He looked at Chen Jianghe with a hint of emotion in his eyes: "This rule is specifically for what happened with the Sun family. If Sun Hongyao were still alive, she would have to be removed from office by now."

Chen Jianghe remained silent for a moment.

Being a hunting ground steward is indeed a good job.

However, Sun Hongyao died outside the No. 7 hunting ground (Bingzi No. 7).

He had been to that place, and had almost died there.

If you accept the position of deacon there—

"Junior Brother Chen." Deacon Zhao's voice pulled him back from his thoughts. "Please wait here for a moment. I will go and fetch Elder Zhu, who is in charge of deacons. I do not have the authority to process your identity token; it will require the elder's personal processing."

Chen Jianghe clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Thank you for your trouble, Steward Zhao."

Deacon Zhao rose and went into the back room of the main hall.

About half an incense stick later, a figure walked out of the side room.

The newcomer was in his early fifties, thin and wiry, wearing a dark blue robe. He had a gaunt face, three long wisps of beard on his chin, and small but sharp eyes, clearly the composure cultivated from years of holding a high position.

He walked to the counter, his gaze falling on Chen Jianghe, and looked him up and down for a moment.

"Chen Jianghe?"

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a natural and imposing aura.

Chen Jianghe clasped his hands in greeting and said, "Disciple Chen Jianghe greets Elder."

The man nodded, took out a roster from his sleeve, and opened it.

"My surname is Zhu, and I am in charge of the appointment of stewards." He said casually while looking at the roster. "You have been in Lingmu Academy for a year and a half, and you have made progress from the minor mastery of the Transformation Realm to the entry level of the Gang Realm. This progress is quite rare."

Chen Jianghe lowered his eyes: "Elder, you flatter me. This disciple has only been diligently cultivating without ceasing, and dares not slack off."

Elder Zhu looked up at him, and a subtle, unusual glint flashed in his eyes, which were usually sharp but were actually quite piercing.

He closed the roster and said calmly, "The sect's hunting grounds are currently short of a steward."

Chen Jianghe's heart skipped a beat.

Elder Zhu continued, "Hunting Ground No. 7 of the C-class is currently open and vacant. You should be familiar with it."

He stared at Chen Jianghe, a slight smile playing on his lips, a smile that held a profound meaning.

"Sun Hongyao died there. Afterwards, the sect sent people to investigate and confirmed that it was the work of remnants of the Demonic Sect. Since then, that hunting ground has remained empty, and no one has dared to take it over."

He paused, then looked at Chen Jianghe: "Since you've been there and come back alive, you're familiar with the terrain and environment. If you're willing, this job is yours."

Chen Jianghe remained silent for a moment.

Number 7, Class C.

Black Wind Cave.

That night's bloody battle, those crimson pupils reflecting the blood moon...

He looked up, about to politely decline, when Elder Zhu suddenly spoke, interrupting his thoughts, "If you don't go," "then the only option left is to become a sect patrol officer."

He stared at Chen Jianghe, his eyes holding a meaning that was hard to describe.

"Every day, I patrol back and forth between the mountain gate, the Sutra Repository Peak, and the Transmission Pavilion for half a day, enduring wind and sun, and I am not allowed to leave without permission."

His salary was half that of a hunting ground steward, and his elixir quota was halved.

He paused, then his smile deepened: "You choose."

Chen Jianghe's heart tightened.

He looked into Elder Zhu's eyes, those seemingly calm eyes that were actually swirling with undercurrents.

That old man did it on purpose.

The excuses like "being familiar with the terrain and environment" or "just needing a butler" are all pretexts.

He wanted to send him to No. 7, Class C.

Why?

Countless thoughts flashed through Chen Jianghe's mind.

Sun Yuhai was imprisoned for three years, but his disciples and former officials were all over the Jinshu Academy.

Although Elder Zhu in front of me was dressed in a dark blue robe, it was impossible to tell which courtyard he belonged to, but he seemed to have some connection with the Sun family.

Or perhaps, it wasn't the Sun family at all.

It's just that some people don't like him and want to push him into a fire pit.

Or perhaps, there really is some unspeakable secret hidden in that hunting ground, number seven of the Bingzi?

Chen Jianghe looked up and met Elder Zhu's smiling eyes.

"Elder, your kindness is too much for me to refuse," he said slowly, his voice calm. "In that case, I am willing to go to number seven in section C."

A hint of surprise flashed in Elder Zhu's eyes.

He seemed surprised that the young man would agree so readily.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Chen Jianghe nodded: "This disciple is certain."

Elder Zhu stared at him for a moment, then suddenly smiled.

"Alright." He turned around, took a token from the table, and handed it over. "This is the deacon token for Hunting Ground No. 7, Class C. With this token, you can enter and exit the hunting ground, dispatch the garrisoned disciples, and collect your monthly salary and elixir quota."

Chen Jianghe accepted it with both hands.

The token was cast from black iron, with the four characters "丙字七号" engraved on the front and a ferocious beast head on the back.

Elder Zhu then took out a wooden box from under the table and pushed it in front of him.

"This is your monthly salary. A hunting ground steward receives two thousand taels of silver per month. There is also a bottle of Gang Yuan Pills," specifically for Gang Jin disciples' cultivation; one bottle per month, obtainable from the pill room with your token.

Chen Jianghe took the wooden box and opened it.

The silver notes were neatly stacked, totaling twenty, each worth one hundred taels.

He put away the silver notes and then tucked the bottle of Gangyuan Pills into his pocket.

Elder Zhu waved his hand: "Go. Report to Hunting Ground No. 7 (丙字七) at 5:00 AM tomorrow. Several disciples have already been dispatched; they will all be under your command from now on."

Chen Jianghe clasped his hands in a gesture of respect and said, "Thank you, Elder."

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