Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8544: Mission (1)

Upon departing from the courtyard, Lu Yongde cast a glance at Cheng Wanchun, his features twisted in clear envy. "Wanchun, fortune has smiled upon you indeed. Whispers circulate about a handful of celestial artifacts housed in our treasure vault, each one personally forged by the sect master. They boast tremendous power, and the one destined to claim them is truly blessed, though it hinges on destiny. We dismissed it as mere rumor since so much time passed without anyone obtaining them, yet it proved real, and they fell to you. Such incredible luck, lad. I'll hold my tongue further—simply wield this magical tool to its fullest potential."

Excitement radiated across Cheng Wanchun's countenance, impossible to conceal. "Understood. Rest easy, headmaster—I shall dedicate myself to diligent cultivation." Lu Yongde gave a nod of approval. Despite the pang of jealousy toward Cheng Wanchun, no malicious intent stirred within him. He understood well the prohibitions of the boundless space: internal conflicts were banned, and acts of murder or theft utterly taboo. Should he ever attempt such folly, death would swiftly claim him next. Thus, envy was all he harbored, spoken or otherwise.

Returning to the front yard together, Cheng Wanchun soon retreated to his quarters. Safely inside, he eagerly withdrew the copper ruler, handling it with tender fascination. Reluctantly, after a prolonged inspection, he set it aside. Next, he grasped the Jade slip bestowed by Lord Sun, channeling his spiritual power to delve within.

His spiritual force had scarcely pierced the Jade slip when astonishment gripped him. A cultivation technique resided there, bearing resemblance to the Song of Righteousness Qi he had mastered, though subtle variances marked it. Mastered adeptly, this method promised might surpassing the Song of Righteousness Qi. Crucially, its practice intertwined deeply with the accompanying ruler weights. In essence, advancing in this technique amplified the duo's efficacy; these town rulers stood as the optimal magical tools. With proper refinement, their potency would surge dramatically, accelerating his cultivation pace as well.

Naturally elated upon discovery, Cheng Wanchun seized the ruler at once, embarking on its cultivation per the outlined steps. The initial phase demanded housing the ruler within his primordial spirit for nurturing, while gradually imprinting the technique's restrictions upon it. Each procedure stood detailed explicitly, ensuring no missteps in practice.

As Cheng Wanchun immersed in the cultivation, he sensed its affinity exceeding that of the Song of Righteousness. The prior method had harbored minor hitches in flow, yet this one unfolded with seamless grace, as if crafted exclusively for his essence.

In the flash of an instant, a full month slipped away. During that span, Cheng Wanchun's prowess ascended to the third layer of the Dharma-use realm—a progression that stunned onlookers. More remarkably, each restriction successfully integrated into the ruler boosted his cultivation tempo slightly, leaving him profoundly amazed.

This revelation filled Cheng Wanchun with boundless joy, spurring him to intensify his efforts. Yet another month elapsed, marking three in total within the realm. By then, his strength had climbed to the fifth level of the Dharma power usage realm. Though the pace appeared tempered, it remained formidable; greater power demanded vaster Dharma power reserves, naturally slowing advances. Achieving the fifth level from the first in transcendence's domain within two months bordered on miraculous. Far from dejected, Cheng Wanchun brimmed with exhilaration.

Nevertheless, with three months' passage, Cheng Wanchun faced the call of duty. Perpetual seclusion in cultivation proved unfeasible; idleness was no option. Thus, he readied himself, gathering essentials before seeking Lu Yongde. He recognized that consulting the headmaster would reveal his forthcoming path.

Before his knuckles could rap on Lu Yongde's door, the voice emanated from within: "Wanchun, enter." Cheng Wanchun acknowledged and swung the door wide, stepping into the living room. He offered a formal salute to Lu Yongde, who rose and dismissed it with a gesture. "No need for formalities. Impressive work—your advancement is swift, marking you as a true prodigy. Enough words from me; the superiors have assigned your task. Here's the specified mission—review it." With that, he extended a Jade slip to Cheng Wanchun.

Accepting the Jade slip, Cheng Wanchun scanned its message, then gazed at Lu Yongde in bewilderment. "Sect master, this mentions no mission—only a meeting. What's the intent?" Genuine puzzlement clouded Cheng Wanchun's understanding of the directive.

Lu Yongde chuckled softly. "I'm in the dark on that front. Truth be told, I haven't the foggiest on your assignment's nature. I avoided peering into the Jade slip's secrets, as this lies beyond my authority. Head out and follow its guidance." Though clarity eluded Cheng Wanchun, he assented and departed, Jade slip in hand.

Guided by the Jade slip's directives, Cheng Wanchun crested a mountain peak, where a courtyard nestled. Touching down before it, he noted its unremarkable simplicity—no plaques, titles, or decor adorned the entrance, breeding a touch of confusion.

Undeterred, Cheng Wanchun approached the shut gate, rapping lightly with the bronze knocker. It groaned open on hinges. A stern-faced cultivator regarded him and intoned deeply, "Show me the mission Jade slip." Clearly seeking the very artifact Cheng Wanchun bore. Without hesitation, he produced and surrendered it.

The man perused it briefly, nodded, and swung the door wider. "Enter," he commanded. Cheng Wanchun inclined his head and crossed the threshold. Inside lay a modest plaza, which the cultivator traversed swiftly, guiding him onward. They halted at a chamber door, where the man instructed, "Proceed inside; someone awaits to explain your summons here."

"Yes," Cheng Wanchun affirmed, pushing into the room. Shock halted him—the space held several seated cultivators, the arrangement mirroring Lu Yongde's parlor but scaled larger with extra seating. Otherwise, it matched precisely.

The room's occupants flicked glances at Cheng Wanchun but offered no words. He returned the survey silently, claiming an vacant chair. Successive arrivals followed suit. Tallying up, twenty-seven souls occupied the space.

As Cheng Wanchun pondered these developments, a figure emerged from the rear. Appearing under thirty, with a warm demeanor, the man beamed at the assembly. "All present—excellent. Greetings, all. Allow a proper introduction: I am Zhu Yong, attendant to the young master. By young master, I mean our sect master."

Stupefaction rippled through the group at Zhu Yong's declaration, prompting a collective rise and bow. Zhu Yong forestalled them with a wave, then addressed the throng gravely. "Politeness unnecessary. Destiny has drawn you here today. Each received a magical tool handcrafted by the young master, cultivating the technique he provided. This merits commendation and grants you this chance. Seize it to serve him. Should service displease you, depart freely now."

Silence reigned; none stirred to exit. Membership in the Ghostwind bandits bound them—rejecting the grand leader, the sect master of lore, invited doom. They deemed it odd for the Ghostwind bandits' chief to claim sect master title; bandits weren't sects, after all.

Surveying them, Zhu Yong grinned. "Splendid—no departures signal your commitment to the young master. Cultivating his bestowed technique deems you his nominal disciples. That's why you gather now: as nominal disciples, learn his true standing. Curiosity plagues many—why does the Ghostwind bandits' leader earn sect master address in this spatial zone? Perhaps you suspect he fancies founding a sect or inflating his prestige. Such notions common, no?" As Zhu Yong's gaze roamed, countenances shifted; words died unspoken, heads dipped in unease.

With a smile, Zhu Yong regarded them. "No shame in that—it's natural curiosity. My purpose today is this revelation. Note well: post-disclosure, Ghostwind bandits claim you irrevocably. Flight means only death."

Zhu Yong's smile persisted, yet his words drained color from faces. No jest colored his tone; the grin chilled spines. They grasped the certainty: future desertion equaled demise, beyond question.