17 Poverty Is a State of Being

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Fu Qin was a man of unpredictable moods, naturally suspicious. Cui Huai, having been driven away by Fu Qin and ordered to return the spirit stones, reached the conclusion above. Despite the considerable effort she had put into this divination, Fu Qin insisted she was a fraud. Was it not simply a forecast—that in the future, he would be deceived both in body and heart? Though it was somewhat hard to accept, it hardly justified his anger or slander against the seer.

Channeling her sorrow and anger into strength, Cui Huai stood in the room, reciting a hundred words learned that day, then reviewed the vocabulary memorized in previous days according to the system’s Ebbinghaus forgetting curve. After completing this process, she felt utterly drained, engulfed by a bewildering sense of “Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?”

Already burdened with sorrow, the punishment of standing while reciting caused her waist to ache, her back to throb, and her feet to go numb. The frailty of a mortal frame grows weary easily. For the first time in her long life, she desperately longed for something—a chair to sit on. Previously, during her confrontation with Fu Qin, she lost her only chair; so far, she had no money to buy a new one. Thinking of this made her heart ache all the more.

Memorizing these blasted English words was currently her sole source of income. To repay debts and improve her dire situation remained a heavy and distant task. Being chased repeatedly for debts was something Cui Huai feigned indifference to on her lips, but inwardly, she considered it a profound humiliation.

The system timidly suggested, “If all else fails, you could borrow some spirit stones from your senior sister. She has plenty, and your life would improve.”

“If others treat you kindly, you should repay them tenfold, a hundredfold, a thousandfold, not take advantage of their kindness.”

Hearing Cui Huai’s lofty words, the system began to doubt its own memory banks. Could a data stream like itself really err? It shouldn’t.

“But I recall you borrowed spirit stones from your senior sister just last month?”

Cui Huai replied, “I mean I can’t borrow again. I’m just shameless, not utterly without shame.”

Compared to the personalities and histories of the carefree sect members, the most profound understanding Cui Huai gained in her months there was of the sect’s financial standing.

In short, besides herself and the ever-elusive Master Leyou, there were only five people in total.

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Of these, three were wealthy, and two were paupers.

The two impecunious ones were undoubtedly Master Qingyan and Jiang Xuan, perpetually living in a state of tightened belts. Never attempt to borrow spirit stones from them—mentioning it would make them want to scrape coins out of your pockets.

The three wealthy individuals were Second Senior Sister Zhao Zhixu, Third Senior Brother Fu Qin, and Junior Brother Zhu Yu. Though all affluent, each had a distinct style.

Senior Sister was wealthy but thrifty. Borrowing from her was usually met with a willing “yes” and no demands for repayment. Because she was so kind, Cui Huai felt embarrassed to ask her again.

Fu Qin appeared to be the sect’s richest man, spending lavishly without a second thought, always seeking the best in food and supplies. He readily lent money—except to Cui Huai.

Cui Huai swore that the spirit stones Jiang Xuan borrowed from Fu Qin were several times more than what she had yet Fu Qin treated her with such disdain!

Zhu Yu was moderately wealthy but the stingiest person in the entire sect. Cui Huai suspected that the entrance donation was his largest expense ever. Living as a mortal, he painstakingly saved every spirit stone, meticulously accounting for each one’s use.

Borrowing from Zhu Yu required contracts and signatures, and the interest was nearly more than the principal. Cui Huai often wondered why this junior brother chose to be a doctor when a bank suited him far better.

In a word, Cui Huai could not borrow a single spirit stone within the carefree sect. She could only rely on hard work to grow wealthy.

Easier said than done.

The cultivation world had been unusually peaceful in recent years. The carefree sect was remote, its sources of income monopolized by a few small clans. Even the beast monsters there were docile.

Last time, Cui Huai tried to catch a swift wind rabbit to skin and sell. The foolish creature neither fled nor resisted but rubbed against her legs, whining, its bright red eyes blinking at her.

In the end, she couldn’t bring herself to kill it. Instead, she spent half a spirit stone buying a bag of rabbit feed.

Since then, whenever the rabbit was hungry, it came to her door. If she didn’t open, it would gnaw at it. To protect her only door, Cui Huai had to let it in.

The rabbit’s warmth turned it from prey to pet, further complicating Cui Huai’s already impoverished life.

After this, she dared never go hunting again. She could barely afford one rabbit begging for food; if she brought back more, she couldn’t even afford the fasting pills.

Poverty shadowed every day of Cui Huai’s life. This desperate pressure is what kept her reciting words daily.

For the first time, she felt sympathy for Jiang Xuan, who knew English. She asked the system, “Was Jiang Xuan already so poor on that place called Earth, he couldn’t even afford food?”

System: “Ah? Why do you say that?”

Cui Huai: “Well, he was miserable enough to come learn English.”

If Cui Huai had spirit stones, she wouldn’t touch those vocabulary books with a ten-foot pole!

***

Wuya Sect, inside the Ziyang Hall.

“Sect Leader, the regulations for the all-region competition early next year are finalized. When do you think we should notify everyone?” asked the chief steward of Wuya Sect.

Xianjun Yan Chi sat on the high platform. As expected, the task ordered by Sword Master Ling Ye was being carried out without obstruction. Even the elders who were reluctant dared not interfere and instead pinched their noses to fulfill their duties diligently.

The all-region competition to win the Xumi Realm qualification was proceeding smoothly, saving much worry.

“Notify them now. Give the smaller sects some time to prepare.”

On this day, countless spirit birds took flight from Wuya Sect, heading toward various cultivation sects throughout the realm.

One slightly plump long-tailed tit, while distributing tasks, greedily sought spirit food. Missing the closer large sects, it was assigned the unpleasant errand of delivering a message to the distant carefree sect.

Flapping its small wings, it flew and flew, feeling it might wither away from exhaustion before finally reaching the mapped destination.

It circled confusedly at low altitude.

Huh? The carefree sect has no main gate?

Had it made a wrong turn—or not?