Chapter 2 – Useless Shixiong

“Shixiong, I’m not saying anything bad about you, but how can you sleep so late?” Fang Yang had a broom in hand, helping Feng Ye sweep the floor as he scolded him.

The youth was at the age where he was still growing, while Feng Ye was already a physically mature young man and stood a head taller than Fang Yang.

Even so, Fang Yang lectured Feng Ye in a tone that brimmed with seniority: “Shixiong, it’s said that the ancients would rise up and practice their swordsmanship upon hearing the rooster’s crow. Much less getting up to practice at the rooster’s crow, I’ve never even seen you practice with a sword.”

“Our talent is already mediocre. If we don’t work harder, we’re doomed to have no chance of becoming immortals. I have three spiritual roots, and I know that I must get up before dawn to practice my swordsmanship. Shixiong, you have five spiritual roots, ah! You’re barely stronger than an ordinary person without spiritual roots. If you continue to waste your time like this, do you plan to be a junior disciple for the rest of your life?”

Fang Yang looked up at Feng Ye with a stern face as he spoke plaintively.

However, Fang Ye remained unmoved. He swept fallen leaves aside as he said unhurriedly: “Being a junior disciple is also pretty good.”

What a convenient identity, inconspicuous yet omnipresent. Feng Ye didn’t voice his true feelings. After all, his true purpose for coming here must not be made known to outsiders.

Thus, in Fang Yang’s eyes, he was just a useless shixiong who had no ambition, and whose ultimate goal was to live an idle life and wait for death.

Fang Yang threw the broom away in a huff and glared at him. The expression on his face perfectly encapsulated the phrase, “I pity his misfortune, but condemn his lack of effort.”

Feng Ye laughed inwardly. Although he had gotten to know this shidi by chance, Fang Yang was indeed a person worth befriending. He was genuine, and treated people sincerely.

And he was soft-hearted.

Feng Ye turned away, leaving Fang Yang with a view of his lonely, desolate back. The youth’s attitude softened, and he resigned himself to picking up the broom and helping Feng Ye finish his work.

If Feng Ye failed to sweep the martial arts training square before the sect’s administrator came for inspections, he would be fined his monthly spirit stones at the least or expelled from the sect at the worst.

After all, five spiritual roots were so common that his qualifications couldn’t be more mundane. Those higher-ranked sects would never accept him.

That was to say, their Lingxiao Sword Sect wasn’t ranked very high, right at the tail end of the top ten sects, so they had reluctantly accepted a disciple with Feng Ye’s aptitude.

But he was only accepted as a junior disciple, or in other words, free labor.

As for the saying that no matter what someone’s qualifications were, as long as one passed the annual assessment, one could enter the inner gates and learn the true immortal arts…..that was just a carrot to keep the donkey moving forward.

Qualifications were crucial on the path to cultivating immortality. For those with extraordinary talent, such as those with a single spiritual root, their cultivation progressed rapidly. The more complex the spiritual root, and slower the cultivation speed.

The difference between five spiritual roots and one spiritual root was probably the difference between a person with disabled legs and a youth riding a fast horse. One crawled like a snail while the other galloped.

People with poor talent would never be able to catch up to people with extraordinary talent. How could they possibly pass the assessment?

But there were still countless people who signed up each year. There were always those who refused to believe in fate and tried to rely on themselves to create a miracle.

Fang Yang, for example, who had three spiritual roots. That was just okay, but the boy was optimistic. He was of a mind that those with ambition were able to compete, and that as long as he worked hard enough, he could certainly catch up with a genius.

Feng Ye didn’t object to Fang Yang’s beliefs, but he also didn’t want to get up at the rooster’s crow like him. After all, Fang Yang was practicing the sect’s basic sword techniques, and such things were too elementary for Feng Ye to bother with.

And if he practiced without restraint, it would really be…..Feng Ye pictured a scene of the earth shaking and mountains trembling and became even more determined to avoid swordplay, using this as a legitimate excuse to sleep in.

Although Fang Yang still helped Feng Ye sweep the floor, he was not yet mollified. He said nothing more to Feng Ye, and just silently went to sweep the other side.

There was a saying that silence promoted work efficiency, and the two of them really did make much faster progress. Seeing that the work was about to be completed, the two people who’d started sweeping from both sides bumped into each other again.

Fang Yang still said nothing. Feng Ye was thinking that he should placate his shidi, and pondered over the wording.

Suddenly, a strong wind swept overhead, lifting Feng Ye’s bangs and the fallen leaves under his broom. He raised his head and looked toward the sky.

Fang Yang also noticed this gust of wind and looked up alongside him.

A slender figure wearing wide robes and sleeves passed over their heads, riding the wind atop his sword. His face was grave and stern, but there was a hint of immaturity to his features. He looked to be the same age as Fang Yang, both of them still growing up.

But the identities of the two couldn’t be more different. This was Cao Zirui, the second disciple of the current leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect.

Lingxiao Sword Sect had always divided its disciples into two batches. Those with good qualifications, such as dual spiritual roots, could directly enter the inner sect, while those of average aptitude, with three, four, or even five spiritual roots, all studied in the outer sect as junior disciples for one year.

They had to work odd jobs during the study period, and then only those who passed the annual assessment could enter the inner gates.

After all, compared to the rare single and double spiritual roots, there were too many people with three spiritual roots or more.

Lingxiao Sword Sect’s approach had certain advantages. It could screen out a group of people who were qualified but lacked resilience and comprehension.

Although spiritual roots greatly affected the speed of cultivation, resilience and comprehension were equally important. Fang Yang’s spiritual roots were average, but he possessed excellent resilience.

He had been at Lingxiao Sword Sect for nearly a year, and practiced swordplay every morning, rain or shine, but what he practiced were simple and boring sword techniques. Among the disciples of this generation, no second person would do this.

After he finished the miscellaneous work assigned by the sect each day, he would practice his swordplay then as well, racing against time just to get one step closer to the immortal path he had always dreamed of.

But even trying so hard, he couldn’t compare to those who were born to stand tall.

Cao Zirui was born with a single spiritual root. He had joined the sect in the same batch of disciples as Fang Yang the previous year. Then, because of his unique talent, he was accepted as the second disciple of the sect leader.

Those with double spiritual roots were already rare, with only dozens of them in the sect. Cao Zirui was the only one with a single spiritual root.

Fang Yang was still practicing basic sword techniques in the outer sect, while Cao Zirui had received personal instruction from the sect leader and gained a glimpse into the true secrets of the sword.

However, after a year, the gap between them did not narrow on account of Fang Yang’s efforts, but instead grew wider and wider.

A year ago, Fang Yang was just an ordinary person with no cultivation. Now, he was at the seventh level of Qi Refining. And as for Cao Zirui……although his specific level of cultivation was unknown, judging by the fact that he could fly on a sword, he should at least be at the Foundation Establishment stage.

After all, while Fang Yang was working hard, the genius was working hard too.

Cao Zirui was flying very fast. After the gale of wind, he turned into a small black dot on the horizon. He had likely just returned from outside and was heading toward the inner gates at the mountaintop.

The sect’s junior disciples all resided at the base of the mountain, and the steep mountain provided a barrier that separated the inside and outside of the mountain gates.

Feng Ye gazed after him for a moment before looking away. He glanced down at the fallen leaves he had just swept up, which had been blown into disarray, and had the belated urge to pick up a leaf and use it to knock down the person who had just flown overhead.

But it was only a thought. After all…..he was just a junior disciple whose job was to sweep the floor.

It was impossible for a junior disciple to defeat the sect leader’s Fountain Establishment stage direct disciple, and with just a fallen leaf.

Absolutely impossible.

Feng Ye considered himself an ordinary and diligent junior disciple, at least on the surface, so he resigned himself to sweeping the fallen leaves all over again.

When he finished sweeping once more, he leaned on the broom, and as he looked upon his work with satisfaction, he finally noticed that something wasn’t right with Fang Yang.

Fang Yang was like a statue, staring in one direction. That was the direction Cao Zirui had just flown off to, which led to the main hall at the peak of the mountain.

Feng Ye walked over to him and observed the young man’s expression. He saw envy and…..bewilderment.

Fang Yang wasn’t actually unaware of the world around him. He’d noticed Feng Ye’s arrival. Although his useless shixiong acted like a waste in every aspect, and often even asked his shidi for help, Feng Ye still had the advantage of being older.

As a junior disciple who had been with the sect for three years and seemed prepared to continue on this way forever, his age was probably the only advantage he had over Fang Yang at this time.

After all, Fang Yang was a youth who had never experienced the world, and whose character had not completely settled. This inevitably put him at a loss, so he looked at Feng Ye and voiced the anxiety that was perpetually hidden in his heart: “Feng-shixiong, tell me…..will there really be a day when I can catch up with him…..where I can be like him, traveling across the heavens and earth and riding the wind?”

Feng Ye fell into a brief silence. He heard the uneasiness in Fang Yang’s words.

When it came to whether or not he could catch up with Cao Zirui, considering Fang Yang’s qualifications, it was very likely that he could not.

But Feng Ye also knew that this answer would hurt him deeply. Although reality was cruel, he still hoped the boy could hold onto a glimmer of hope and try his best to catch up.

He didn’t reply directly, but gave this answer: “Legend has it that there are tens of thousands of jiaolongs in the sea. But in the end, a jiaolong is not a dragon. Dragons can fly freely through the sky, but jiao can only sink and float in the deep sea. What’s more, some divine birds feed on jiao, but when facing a real dragon, they must fold back their feathers.”

“The gap between a dragon and a jiao is like the distance between heaven and earth. One flies freely through the sky and sea, and one can only look up at the sky from the water. However…..” Feng Ye suddenly folded his arms. He raised his eyebrows, and his face, which was so ordinary that one would forget it the second they saw it, abruptly revealed some compelling heroic spirit: “There was once a jiao that transformed into a yinglong. It grew wings, and was able to fly through the heavens and earth. But among the tens of thousands of jiao in the sea, it was the only one that was able to become a yinglong.”

“The gap between you and Cao Zirui is far narrower than the gap between a jiao and a dragon…..” Feng Ye cut himself off.

Because the lost look on Fang Yang’s face had completely vanished, and he seemed to be thinking.

He’d gotten the key point across. It seems Fang Yang’s comprehension is pretty good, Feng Ye thought.

Fang Yang pondered for a long while, and when he raised his head again, he had become a cheerful, confident youth once more. He clenched his fists and said with resolve: “Even if there’s only a one in ten million chance, I won’t give up! From now on, I’ll practice with the sword even more diligently!”

Feng Ye maintained a smile and nodded to express his affirmation.

But in the next second, he had regrets.

Because Fang Yang said one more thing: “Shixiong, you must practice with me too. Even if your goal isn’t to become a one in ten million yinglong, you also need to practice hard to flee faster than other jiao, so as not to be eaten by a divine bird!”

Feng Ye: “……”

The corners of his mouth twitched. Before he could reply, Fang Yang made a unilateral decision: “Shixiong, you can’t get up so late every day. Even if you don’t get up at the sound of the rooster’s crow, you should at least get up and practice swordplay.”

Fang Yang’s attitude was firm: “Shixiong, do you want me to wake you up when the rooster crows once or when it crows twice?”

However, Fang Yang’s attitude was equally firm: “Wake me up when the rooster is dead.”

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