The Braised Chicken Feet Shop in Yellow Dog County, Immortal-Knocking Town, City of Seeking Immortality, State of Revering Immortals, in the land of the Exiled Immortals.
The sun was setting in the west.
Today, like any other day, there were neither too many nor too few customers coming to the shop to buy chicken feet. The shop's only assistant was neither too busy nor too idle.
After serving the last customer sitting outside under the canopy by the wooden table, the Braised Chicken Feet Shop was about to close.
This customer had been eating two chicken feet for five hours, sitting from the time the shop opened until closing.
Yet, the assistant did not rush him.
Although Old Huang sat for a long time, he was not bothersome.
In the morning, when there were fewer customers, he would sit by the table to eat.
In the afternoon, when there were more customers, he would move his wooden stool to the corner, giving up the table for others.
Once the customers were done and the table was free, he would return to his seat.
Old Huang was considerate, and since everyone was from the same village, the shop assistants naturally wouldn't be too harsh.
"Old Huang, it's about time. The sun is setting, and we're closing up," said a shop assistant, casually dusting his back with a cloth.
"Alright, I'll be on my way," replied the elderly man, with only a few strands of white hair left on his head. He took out two copper coins from his pocket, leaned on the table, and prepared to leave.
"Take care, see you tomorrow," the shop assistant said, dutifully recording the transaction before collecting the money and wiping the table.
At this moment, Old Huang suddenly remembered something and turned to ask, "I haven't seen your shop owner, Xiaosuo, around lately?"
"You're not the only one. It's hard for even me to catch a glimpse of our boss."
"Is he still researching immortals?"
"Who knows? Ever since our boss claimed to have seen an immortal two and a half years ago, he's been obsessed, losing interest in food and drink, and constantly locking himself in the little black room behind the shop, doing who knows what."
Old Huang picked at his teeth with his finger, smacked his lips, and sighed, "Such a promising young man, gone mad. What a pity."
"Keep your voice down, don't let our boss hear you..."
In truth, the shop assistant was overthinking it.
At this moment, the shop owner, Xiaosuo, was in the little black room and couldn't hear any of this.
The little black room was called so because it was completely sealed.
No wind could enter, and neither could rumors.
Similarly, no wind could escape, nor could any mad talk.
***
Inside the little black room, Xiaosuo's face showed a mix of joy, confusion, anticipation, and a hint of sadness.
He murmured to himself, "Spiritual energy isn't a gas!!!"
Xiaosuo's expression was extremely complex, even more so than the night he first crossed over.
Indeed, Xiaosuo was a transmigrator, having studied science and engineering throughout his academic career and worked in a private enterprise.
In his previous life, he died after failing to grab the rim during a basketball dunk, landing on the back of his head. Five years ago, he transmigrated to this world of cultivation.
He became the owner of a braised chicken feet shop in Yellow Dog County, with no known parents.
As someone who watched anime and read web novels, he easily accepted the concept of transmigration.
But as a materialist idealist, he couldn't accept the cultivation system.
It was said that anyone in Yellow Dog County with the aptitude for cultivation was taken away by immortals before the age of eight.
Xiaosuo, nearly seventeen or eighteen, was still in Yellow Dog County, clearly one of those left behind by the immortals, unable to cultivate.
Transmigrated into a world of cultivation but unable to cultivate?
He couldn't believe in cultivation.
How could someone transmigrate to a world of cultivation and not be able to cultivate?
Ridiculous.
Moreover, he hadn't seen a single cultivator since his transmigration.
Even though everyone claimed there were immortals, Xiaosuo couldn't believe it without seeing them with his own eyes.
So, for the first two years after transmigrating, he paid no attention to cultivation.
Instead, he focused on how to expand and strengthen the braised chicken feet shop.
In his previous life, he was always a worker. Now, as a boss, he could work for himself, and his enthusiasm was through the roof.
Until two and a half years ago, when he was catching wild chickens in the woods and got shot in the knee with an arrow.
The archer was a cultivator.
The cultivator, holding a bow from afar, realized they had hit Xiaosuo and quickly rushed to his side to heal him.
The cultivator moved so fast that Xiaosuo only saw a blur.
Although Xiaosuo had never witnessed an Olympic event, he doubted even Usain Bolt could achieve such speed.
Could it be an immortal?
What followed completely dispelled Xiaosuo's doubts about the world of cultivation.
The cultivator extended her right middle finger and lightly touched the bloody wound on Xiaosuo's knee, and the excruciatingly painful hole vanished.
Though the gesture wasn't very friendly, her attitude was warm.
She even cured the arthritis in Xiaosuo's knee.
At that moment, Xiaosuo believed.
This world had immortals.
The world of cultivation was real.
According to the cultivator, her arrow was meant for a spirit pheasant.
But she sneezed while shooting, causing the arrow to veer off course.
Thus, the arrow that pierced Xiaosuo's understanding of the world.
As compensation, the cultivator took out five light blue, semi-transparent stones from her chest pocket.
"These are spirit stones. I'll give them to you as an apology. One spirit stone is worth... well, a lot of money! Enough to ensure you live comfortably for the rest of your life!"
Xiaosuo looked at the somewhat guilty cultivator.
Her tone and appearance suggested she was a teenage girl.
Probably really in her teens.
According to the novels he read in his previous life, mortals and immortals were different.
He should have immediately thanked the immortal for her gift.
Any disrespect might anger the immortal, leading to his demise.
But for some reason, perhaps because his worldview was collapsing, Xiaosuo didn't recall the lessons from the novels he read.
Instead, he impulsively asked:"How do I know these spirit stones are real?"
The girl thought for a moment and nodded, "You're right, you've never seen spirit stones. I have some Spirit Manifesting Paper here. It changes color when it encounters spiritual energy. I'll give it to you."
With that, she took out a dozen sheets of white paper from her chest pocket and handed them to Xiaosuo.
Xiaosuo, whose worldview was still collapsing, didn't notice her boldness.
He was still a bit dazed.
While he was lost in thought, the girl turned and left.
"Goodbye, if you want to find me, you can go to..."
The girl left so quickly that Xiaosuo didn't hear her parting words clearly.
Xiaosuo looked at the spirit stones in his left hand and the Spirit Manifesting Paper turning blue in his right hand.
He remained silent for a long time.
Sitting in the forest from noon until sunset.
Only when he left did he softly say:"How do I know this Spirit Manifesting Paper is real..."
Since then.
The world of cultivation was real.
This was an undeniable fact.
But Xiaosuo still needed time to adapt.
A process of self-denial and renewal.
Whether to accept the reality of the cultivation world.
Or to ignore it and continue running the braised chicken feet shop, as he rarely encountered any immortals.
This was not just an ordinary choice.
It would determine the course of his life after transmigration.
Whether the collapse and reconstruction of his worldview would succeed depended on the individual.
Some people go with the flow and become remnants of the old era.
Some actively seek change and become heralds of the new age.
Choice is one of life's eternal themes.
After two days and nights of sleepless contemplation.
He decided to compromise, integrate, and align with the world of cultivation.
To accept the new world.
The reason was pure.
He wanted to understand this world of cultivation.
Many questions lingered in his mind.
How does one become a cultivator?
What is spiritual energy?
How are spells cast?
How are magical tools and pills crafted?
The terms from the cultivation novels he read in his previous life constantly occupied his thoughts.
Like the North Star, they hung high in his mind.
Bright and indelible.
Everything was filled with the unknown.
His scientific mindset believed.
If something exists, there must be a reason.
He wanted to find that reason.
Living a second life had subtly changed him.
Not only did it revive his spirit, but it also quietly revived his ideals.
So, naturally.
He no longer busied himself with the braised chicken feet shop.
A quick look at "paw𝑟ead.com" will leave you more fulfilled.
He shelved all plans to expand and strengthen, leaving the shop assistant in charge.
He didn't even bother with the accounts.
As long as his needs were met, it didn't matter how much money was left.
If the shop assistant took more, so be it.
After all, he was his only friend in this world.
The shop assistant had fled to Yellow Dog County at the age of ten.
The transmigrated Xiaosuo, seeing him alone and helpless, took him in out of compassion.
At the time, the braised chicken feet shop had just opened, so Xiaosuo had him help out, providing food, lodging, and wages.
The shop assistant agreed but refused to reveal his name.
Everyone has secrets.
Xiaosuo didn't press further.
He simply called him the shop assistant.
In the end, the shop assistant had been with him for several years.
They spent their days together, but neither revealed their secrets.
From purchasing chicken feet from Aunt Yang to braising and selling them, Xiaosuo delegated the shop's operations to the shop assistant.
He himself became idle.
With his newfound free time, he quickly turned his attention to understanding this world.
First, he planned to buy some books on the market to gain a basic understanding of cultivation.
But he found that books on cultivation were too superficial.
They usually contained just one sentence:
"This is a golden age of cultivation."
That's it.
No help at all.
Instead, casual chats with Old Huang provided some insight.
"Xiaosuo, I heard that to hold a high enough official position, one must be a cultivator."
Cultivators in high office?
That was intriguing.
He wondered what cultivators, who pursued immortality, sought in official positions.
There must be a reason, but it wasn't something he could know now.
Of course, it was also possible that Old Huang was just making things up.
Since external sources were unhelpful, he had to start with himself.
When things don't go your way, look within.
So he began with the spirit stones in his possession.
Xiaosuo resumed his exploration of spiritual energy.
He spent entire days in the little black room with the spirit stones.
Ignoring the braised chicken feet shop even more.
This change didn't escape the notice of the shop assistant and the perceptive Old Huang.
Both were somewhat wistful.
According to the shop assistant and Old Huang, it was— "Xiaosuo's once mature and wise gaze became clear and foolish overnight."
Clear and foolish.
This description was quite accurate.
The foolishness in Xiaosuo's eyes was because he felt he knew nothing about this world.
The clarity was because he wanted to know what spiritual energy truly was in this world.
In his previous life, he had read no fewer than a hundred cultivation novels.
While passing time with his phone, he never pondered.
What exactly was the spiritual energy that made cultivators omnipotent?
Perhaps only the spirit stones in his hand could provide the answer.
He had been studying those blue glass-like spirit stones for nearly two years.
Trying to sense the presence of spiritual energy.
He held the spirit stones in his palm, meditating for a long time, but felt no change within.
He placed them on his chest, slept with them, and woke up feeling no different.
He held them in his mouth, fasting, only to end up with a mouth full of sores and bleeding gums.
During baths, he tried... but apart from the burning pain and the inconvenience of walking and relieving himself, there were no signs of spiritual energy entering his body.
Of course, Xiaosuo didn't know that his reputation was also changing.
Since Xiaosuo started walking with a hand on his backside, the shop assistant had been avoiding eye contact.
Old Huang, on the other hand, gave a knowing smile, full of worldly wisdom.
But Xiaosuo had no regrets.
The process of exploring the unknown was inherently ridiculous.
Just as you can't imagine what the first person to drink milk did to a cow.
Yet, after a series of boundary-pushing experiments, he still couldn't sense spiritual energy.
Xiaosuo couldn't help but question.
Does spiritual energy truly exist?
Or is it because he's unable to cultivate, so he can't sense it?
Then again, if cultivators exist, spiritual energy must exist too.
Otherwise, how would they cultivate?
It seemed the issue lay with himself.
Holding spirit stones that ordinary people couldn't possess, yet unable to absorb spiritual energy.
It was truly frustrating.
Recently, he learned from Old Huang how precious spirit stones were.
Priceless.
Not that the price of a spirit stone was incalculable.
But it was beyond Old Huang's understanding.
Old Huang vaguely remembered that the County Constable of Yellow Dog County, Dogged Luck, had bought his position with a spirit stone.
Yellow Dog County, with about 600,000 households and two to three million people.
The County Constable was in charge of the county's law and order, ranking just below the County Magistrate and County Deputy.
In other words, for the vast majority of Yellow Dog County's residents, the County Constable was an unattainable symbol of authority.
This vast majority naturally included Xiaosuo, the owner of a mere braised chicken feet shop.
Since transmigrating, including the ten-plus years his predecessor lived in Yellow Dog County, Xiaosuo had never seen an official as high-ranking as the County Constable.
The highest-ranking person he had seen was Qian Banshi, the head constable under the arrest warrant of the County Deputy.
Qian Banshi managed the law and order of an area with tens of thousands of people, and Xiaosuo had only seen him three times.
Twice from afar, watching as the head constable led a group of constables past.
Once at a regional law and order commercial prosperity meeting, where the head constable was the highest-ranking official present, and Xiaosuo sat at the end of the small merchants' row.
The attending merchants collectively paid the head constable five hundred taels of silver for law and order.
Xiaosuo, seeking protection, attended the meeting and paid five hundred wen, roughly half a tael of silver.
It was two months' income for him.
The head constable took the money and did his job, and since then, no temporary constables had come to inspect his shop.
The neighboring braised eel shop owner, unwilling to pay the fee, didn't attend, and a few days later, his shop was shut down by temporary constables for allegedly having poisonous toothpicks.
Every year thereafter, the fee had to be paid, and Xiaosuo, too lazy to attend, had the shop assistant attend the regional law and order commercial prosperity meeting on time to ensure safety.
For an ordinary person like Xiaosuo, he didn't know the income of the head constable.
But it should exceed a hundred taels.
Let alone knowing the income of the County Constable.
He only knew it must be an unimaginable figure.
Now, this astronomical figure had an equivalent description.
One spirit stone.
It only required one spirit stone.
And he had five.
His pure quest for knowledge, his clear and foolish eyes, faced their first challenge.
The world of cultivation seemed out of reach.
Proofreader & Editor: Peter Pan
Vol.1 - Chapter 1 – Spiritual Energy is not Qi
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