Chapter 24
Chapter 24: Training and Brewing
Their ambition was grand.
Reality, however, had a way of swinging a club.
A few players were eager to launch a massive “ancient infrastructure” project, but they hit a wall before they even laid the first brick.
The most basic problems—medicine and food—were the obvious starting points in any ancient world.
But on Yun Zhou Continent, mortals didn’t suffer those problems the same way.
A single blood replenishing pill could heal most mortal injuries, unless the poison came from a demon beast.
Ordinary plagues were practically nonexistent. Only demon beast-related sickness could cause real disaster.
And demon beasts were driven into fixed areas. This was major sect territory, not an outright danger zone. If you never left town, you might never see one in your life.
Then there was food.
Spiritual qi existed in heaven and earth. Even in Wangan County, where the qi was thin, it still made crops grow unnaturally well.
Even rice—rare in many places—was planted here by common folk.
Households ate white flour. That alone proved living conditions weren’t bad.
Those two facts strangled the players’ hopes of becoming saviors through medicine or staple farming.
But they didn’t give up.
Comfort breeds desire. When people have enough, they start chasing better.
If they couldn’t reinvent the foundation, they’d upgrade what already existed.
Zhou Xiao had floated it earlier: better pastries, better food. A luxury economy.
The players even bought a blood replenishing pill to taste. The result was unanimous: awful.
Pill-refining disciples, they decided, had a bright future if anyone could make these things edible.
blood pearl grass had a rough flavor. Add inconsistent skill from medicine sect disciples, and the resulting pill wasn’t some “fragrant spiritual medicine.” It was bitter and astringent, like swallowing a mouthful of regret.
Which immediately sparked a thought that was both ridiculous and dangerous.
If the pill was this nasty… why couldn’t they refine strawberry-flavored blood replenishing pills?
Chen Miao Miao spent two days researching and didn’t get every answer, but she did confirm one thing: spirit herb roots and stems could be cooked. No poison. Stir-fry them with salt and you got a crisp, refreshing plate of greens.
At the same time, the two players who’d whispered about “development” logged off and tore through real-world resources, trying to figure out what kind of technology could be transplanted into this world.
It was only the second day in-game. In the real world, by midday, it was already night again on Yun Zhou Continent.
People went to work. People who’d played through the night started hitting their limits.
The game didn’t demand bathroom breaks or meals, but real life did. No one could stay logged in forever.
Song Jiu Lai had no such luxury.
Reading was one thing. She also had to find a way to make money.
Players were labor. Labor needed wages.
They’d set a baseline: two low-grade spirit stones per month per person.
When the time came, if she couldn’t pay—and still had taxes on top of it—how was she supposed to keep her dignity as Sect Master?
So she went down the mountain.
The timing was awful.
A sea of night suddenly split with crimson light, as if dawn had been poured across the clouds. A clear phoenix cry rang out, sharp enough to turn blood cold, echoing across miles. The land of Wangan County burned bright as day beneath that red glow.
Song Jiu Lai hadn’t even taken two steps before the pressure hit.
It wasn’t fear. It was weight—absolute, crushing authority, the kind that made breath shallow and thoughts go thin. The aura was so powerful it felt like it could press the world flat.
She swore under her breath. “System. What is this?”
“Aren’t you asking the wrong person?” the System shot back. “If you don’t know, why would I?”
Song Jiu Lai clenched her jaw. “Then what are you good for?”
“…You’re so practical,” the System muttered.
The disturbance lasted only a dozen seconds before it vanished. The crimson light faded, the pressure released, and the night returned as if nothing had happened.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t something a Qi Refining Stage cultivator could understand.
Song Jiu Lai steadied her breathing and continued on.
Her destination was devil cave valley.
Wangan County sat on the edge of Myriad Immortals Sect territory—an “edge” so vast it dwarfed nations.
devil cave valley was a boundary line between Myriad Immortals Sect and other major sect lands. It sprawled endlessly, crawling with demon beasts. Rumor claimed a seventh-rank demon beast lived deep within—comparable to Nascent Soul Stage.
Su Huan Li’s training grounds were there too.
Of course, Song Jiu Lai wasn’t going anywhere near the center. She was heading to the outermost fringe, the edge of the edge, to hunt what she could.
Training wasn’t optional for cultivators. Hunting demon beasts was part of it—and more importantly, demon beast corpses could be sold.
Maybe she’d even find wild spirit ore along the way.
A Sect Master this poor had no choice but to scavenge for her own lifeline.
If she had money, she wouldn’t be risking her neck. She’d stay safe and let the players earn.
But she couldn’t.
If she didn’t push herself, she might not keep up with the players. And everyone knew what people from China were like—wherever they went, they competed.
For now, she didn’t tell the players about devil cave valley.
This Sect Master would grind in secret first.
The valley was enormous—so enormous that just reaching the outer edge took a full day and night of travel.
A round trip would eat two or three days.
Now that players were in the sect, being gone that long was risky, but at least the System could contact her remotely.
She also took a bitter comfort in the fact that Flying Sparrow Sect and the neighboring Peach Blossom Sect had senior brothers and senior sisters stationed there. Their job was to protect lower-level cultivators from rogue cultivators who’d fallen into demonic paths.
Without that safety net, Song Jiu Lai wouldn’t have dared go at Qi Refining Stage.
Farther in, disciples from other major sects—even Myriad Immortals Sect—operated in the core region, fighting higher-rank demon beasts.
That wasn’t Song Jiu Lai’s world. She wasn’t there for glory. She was there for money.
While she traveled unseen, the players began mobilizing on their own.
Some chopped trees and built crude structures, using physical labor to practice controlling spiritual qi.
Meanwhile, Chen Miao Miao and another player landed on Longevity Sect’s first real money-making plan.
Brewing.
Alcohol.
Ancient worlds had liquor, sure—but brewing demanded grain, and grain was expensive.
On Yun Zhou Continent, grain wasn’t scarce at all. Conditions were too good. Mortals’ grain was cheap. Buy it, brew it, sell it back—profit.
Chen Miao Miao even wanted to test whether spirit herbs could be integrated into the process.
The only problem was poverty. Right now, the only spirit herbs available for experiments were A Wu’s blood pearl grass and spirit-boosting grass. Anything else required buying seedlings and raising them.
A Wu planned to harvest his two plots and sell the herbs. But after Chen Miao Miao promised she’d pay him back, he left her ten stalks as spare materials.
Alcohol wasn’t just loved by mortals.
Plenty of cultivators loved it too.
Otherwise, why would anyone earn a title like “Wine Immortal”?