The Programmer Cultivator

Chapter 3: Chapter 2: A Goldfinger May Be Late, But It Will Never Be Absent

If the Steward hadn’t explicitly warned that a Junior Apprentice’s newly formed Dantian was extremely fragile and easily damaged, and that using the Cloud Rain Skill more than three times a day would harm one’s foundation, he might have cast it more than just three times. He might have done it four, or even five times.

Everyone in the Miscellaneous Affairs Courtyard was gritting their teeth and pushing themselves, all for the sake of climbing into the Outer Sect and becoming an official Outer Disciple of the Celestial Spirit Sect. ’This was probably the real reason why they were forced to do this kind of manual labor!’

Zhang Deming returned to his room, took out his Cultivation Disc, and began his daily cultivation.

Seated on the cushion-like Cultivation Disc, Zhang Deming lightly touched a switch. He could clearly feel a much denser Spiritual Qi pour out from the disc, swirling in a one-meter radius around him.

Zhang Deming closed his eyes and began to circulate the Celestial Spirit Sect’s lowest-tier Entry-Level Cultivation Technique: the Basic Cultivation Technique.

That’s right, its name was simply the Basic Cultivation Technique. It was just that uninspired, which told you everything you needed to know about its quality.

It was basically the kind of thing they handed you at the entry level, like a corporate culture handbook. Even the merchants who delivered vegetables to the Miscellaneous Affairs Courtyard could get their hands on a copy.

...

「Three hours later,」 the sun began to set, and the hottest part of the day had passed.

Zhang Deming finished his daily practice. Sensing his Junior Apprentice level of cultivation and how far he still was from the intermediate level, he felt a pang of bitterness.

’Talent... I’ve really had enough!’

Ten years since he entered the sect, it had taken him two years to achieve Qi Sensing and become a Junior Apprentice.

He had originally thought that even if he wasn’t a genius, he wouldn’t be a complete waste either.

But now, after eight long years of cultivation, the intermediate level remained a distant dream. Reality had thoroughly taught him what a 21-point Spirit Root truly meant.

He got up, put away his Cultivation Disc, and opened his personal treasury—a small wooden box.

Five thumb-sized Spirit Stones lay in the very center of the box. This was Zhang Deming’s greatest treasure, the sum of all the wealth he had accumulated from ten years of planting rice.

Caressing the Spirit Stones, Zhang Deming desperately wanted to take them out and use them for his cultivation.

’Don’t be impulsive. These are for your breakthrough. You can’t just waste them. If you do, you’ll be stuck planting fields for the rest of your life. You can just forget about flying through the skies and all that.’

Zhang Deming consoled himself, took out a book from a corner of the box, and closed the lid.

The box only contained these few items; there was nothing else of interest. He hadn’t brought anything with him when he transmigrated, either.

This was also the reason he felt so hopeless about his own special ability.

This book was something issued by the Miscellaneous Affairs Courtyard’s plantation, handed out along with the water buckets. It was the spell for the Little Cloud Rain Skill.

In the ten years since he had entered the sect, he had been gnawing at this book for eight of them, and he had made absolutely no progress.

He had once suspected that it wasn’t just a matter of talent, but that he was simply not cut out for the Magic Path at all.

This world was called the Hongmeng Realm, and it was filled with numerous cultivators. Broadly speaking, their paths were divided into six major categories.

They were: Magic, Summoning, Close Combat Techniques, Bloodline, Miscellaneous Arts, and Strange Ability.

The Little Cloud Rain Skill clearly belonged to the Magic category.

After failing to even reach the entry level in eight years, Zhang Deming had his doubts.

But he had no other choice. Besides, in the Miscellaneous Affairs Courtyard, failing to master a single skill in eight years didn’t make him a special case. He wasn’t even an outlier; he was just ordinary.

Only after learning this did Zhang Deming realize that it was because cultivating magic was difficult to begin with, and his own garbage talent made it even harder.

If that wasn’t the case, would that guy Zong En be able to show off in the Miscellaneous Affairs Courtyard for half a year and be so envied just for learning a single technique?

Zhang Deming took the Little Cloud Rain Skill manual, left his room, crossed his small courtyard, and walked for a short while until he reached the main courtyard of the Miscellaneous Affairs Courtyard, where there was a small plaza.

In the center of the plaza, a banyan tree of unknown age shaded more than half of the space. Over twenty servants were already sitting beneath it.

The rest of them had probably slacked off in the morning and were still busy in the fields.

”Brother Ming is here.”

”You’re a bit late today, Brother Ming. Did you take a nap this morning?”

Thanks to Zhang Deming’s deliberate efforts, he was on quite good terms with everyone. As soon as he arrived, many people greeted him.

Zhang Deming responded to each of them and sat down.

This group comprised all the farmers from the fields at the foot of Little Qing Mountain. Every day at this time, they would gather to study the magic technique—the Little Cloud Rain Skill—and exchange their thoughts.

They even tried to make it look official, imitating the magic exchange conferences held in the Inner Sect.

This custom had been around since before Zhang Deming even arrived.

But...

’How should I put it?’

’A bunch of Junior Apprentices who don’t know the first thing about magic... what the hell were they supposed to be discussing!’

’In reality, they were just spouting nonsense. Of course, sometimes there was something of actual substance.’

’For example, from the few who had actually learned the technique. Before, there were two of them. Half a year ago, that number became three. Now, it was about to go back to two, because Zong En, who had been a late bloomer, was on the verge of being promoted.’

Those three servants actually loved this time of day the most.

It wasn’t because they were particularly enthusiastic about helping, but because this was the time of day they felt the most accomplished.

’Because this was their time to show off.’ Yes, that was how Zhang Deming understood it.

Many of the others, however, were extremely enthusiastic.

One reason was to flatter them—to kiss their asses—while the other was that they genuinely believed they might gain some insight into the technique.

As for Zhang Deming, he belonged to neither group. In ten years, had he not heard enough of this so-called ”insight”?

’It’s just them showing off their superiority.’ Zhang Deming had also listened to the few who genuinely wanted to share their knowledge, but even after all this time cultivating the Little Cloud Rain Skill, he still hadn’t even found the entryway.