[Ding! Host has an attribute point available.]
The voice echoed in his mind. Just as before, he dumped the point into Strength and did the same for the black bull.
Chen Xun had discovered that stacking Strength had immense benefits. His legs felt sturdier when working, his vision seemed sharper, and he could do the work of two men with ease. Even Cuihua, a forty-year-old "evergreen" bachelorette in the village, had been frequently casting coy, suggestive glances his way.
"Perhaps this is simply what it means to be a man," Chen Xun sighed deeply, flexed his muscles, and looked at his reflection. He wondered how many village girls were currently swooning over his irrepressible charm.
"Hey! Old bull! Eat slower!"
Chen Xun let out a cry of alarm. While he had been lost in his self-reflection, the black bull had seized the opportunity to wolf down his portion of their midnight snack.
Moo!
The Great Black Bull reacted with lightning speed, swallowing the food in one gulp. Chen Xun stood there, jaw dropped, utterly speechless.
In their second year, Chen Xun and the bull became apprentices to a blacksmith. His monstrous strength left the smith in awe, and the man constantly praised Chen Xun as a natural-born prodigy of the forge.
Chen Xun didn't ask for wages; he only requested that the smith provide meals for both him and the bull. The blacksmith readily agreed.
However, the following month, Chen Xun committed a grave taboo by stepping into the forge with his left foot first. They were promptly kicked out.
Chen Xun could only sigh in resignation. Perhaps this was simply the burden of being a powerhouse.
They returned to their roots, finding a patch of fertile land to plant rice. With the bull plowing and Chen Xun sowing, the duo worked in perfect harmony, pursuing wealth through honest labor.
"Look, old bull. This is our empire."
Moo!
Chen Xun looked out over the lush green fields, his eyes brimming with joy. He tightened his grip on his mountain-splitting axe; he had two more tucked into his waistband for good measure.
The black bull was equally delighted, though it was currently a walking armory—blades were strapped to all four of its legs, and another axe was tied firmly to its horn.
"If those thugs dare come to steal from us again..."
Chen Xun's eyes turned cold as he looked at the bull. The bull looked back and nodded solemnly.
"We run! We absolutely won't fight them head-on. With this gear, I'd like to see who actually dares to chase us!"
Moo! Moo!
Fortunately, this year was peaceful. Word was that something big had happened in the neighboring village, and everyone had been gathered together. No one had the time to bother with Chen Xun's fields.
He added another point of Strength to himself and the bull, then happily began the rice harvest.
The black bull dug a pit in the cave, and Chen Xun, understanding the assignment, filled it with countless bags of polished white rice. He set aside a portion to return to the village chief—several times the amount he had originally been given.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of a gong suddenly rang through the village, reaching even the depths of their cave. It was the assembly signal for a major event.
Chen Xun narrowed his eyes and sprinted out of the cave. He hoped it wasn't a village feud; with his current strength, he could knock a grown man flat without breaking a sweat.
He and the bull crept up a small hillside to scout the situation from a safe distance. To his surprise, the atmosphere in the village was festive. A massive crowd had gathered outside the chief's house.
"Come on, old bull. Let's check it out."
Moo!
In the center of the village, over a thousand people stood with eyes full of hope and excitement. They held offerings of chicken, duck, fish, and meat, bowing deeply toward two figures in the center.
"The Cloud Heaven Sect is recruiting disciples. Anyone with Spiritual Roots has the chance to tread the Path of Immortality."
One of the figures, dressed in Daoist robes, stood atop the roof of the chief's house. He looked down upon the crowd with an air of cold, overbearing arrogance.
"Immortal, how can we tell if we have these Spiritual Roots?"
"That's right! My Little Blackie has been as strong as an ox since he was a babe. A fortune teller once said he was an immortal reincarnated!"
The villagers were buzzing with excitement, their questions firing off like crackers. The two Cultivators frowned in annoyance.
"Silence."
One of the Cultivators snapped. He activated a talisman, and a sudden, terrifying blast of fire erupted in mid-air. The heat was so intense it scorched the wind.
The village went deathly silent. You could have heard a pin drop. The people stared in horror, realizing for the first time: These are true Immortals.
"Talk about a black bull walking a dog—an absolute circus from start to finish," Chen Xun whispered as he reached the edge of the crowd. He looked on with genuine wonder; so, this world really did have Cultivators.
The bull looked at him, confused. When did I ever walk a dog in the village?
"Spiritual Roots are categorized into Five-Element Trash Roots, Four-Element Low Roots, Three-Element Medium Roots, Two-Element High Roots, and the Single-Element Heavenly Roots," the Cultivator explained, hands behind his back.
He activated a jade token. "Do not be nervous. Anyone under the age of twenty, step forward to test your roots."
A pillar of multicolored light erupted from the ground, dazzling the onlookers. Even the elderly villagers tried to shuffle forward for a chance. The village youths, full of nervous energy, stepped into the light one by one. The pillar remained dead and unresponsive.
"This is impossible! I dreamt I was an immortal just the other night!" one villager muttered manically. Refusing to believe the result, he suddenly threw himself to the ground, wailing, "Immortal! Please, I beg you, take me as your disciple!"
"Leave. You have three breaths," a cold voice commanded.
"Immortal, I beg of you!" the villager cried, refusing to move from the light. "I saw it in my dreams!"
Slash!
A flash of sword light flickered. Blood sprayed across the dirt. The villager's eyes remained wide with disbelief as his body slumped to the ground.
The sound of hundreds of people hitting their knees echoed through the square. The villagers shook like sieves, their eyes filled with pure, unadulterated terror.
Chen Xun's pupils shrank. He immediately crouched down, cold sweat beading on his forehead. These Cultivators... they really do follow no laws.
The black bull also silently prostrated itself. They lowered their heads and shared a look, the beautiful fantasies they had once harbored about "immortality" shattering into dust.
"Next," the Cultivator said indifferently, his gaze sweeping over the people as if they were nothing more than livestock.
There was no more chaos. The villagers moved through the light in an orderly fashion, though a glimmer of desperate hope still lingered in their eyes.
Chen Xun eventually crept forward to try his luck. The result: Five-Element Trash Roots. He didn't even earn a second glance from the Cultivators.
"Not bad. We actually found a Three-Element Medium Root."
A faint smile finally touched the Cultivator's lips as he looked at a young girl. "Bid your family farewell."
"Yes, Immortal," the girl chirped, torn between grief and excitement. After she said her goodbyes, the Cultivator handed her family several dozen taels of silver.
"Those with Five-Element Trash Roots may enter the sect as laborers. You will still have a chance to seek the Dao," the Cultivator added casually, looking toward the group.
"Immortal, I'll go!"
The other youths with trash roots were overjoyed and immediately fell to their knees in gratitude.
The Cultivator's gaze shifted to Chen Xun.
The young man was currently lying on the ground, foaming at the mouth and drenched in sweat. Even the bull beside him looked like it was at death's door, gasping for air. They were, quite clearly, "scared to death" by the earlier display of violence.
"Weak-willed. No hope for the Path. Move on."
The Cultivator shook his head. He summoned a flying sword from his storage bag, gathered the chosen few, and soared into the sky, vanishing into the clouds with ethereal grace.
The remaining villagers stood there, lost in a daze, staring at the empty sky with envy.
"You mother... Old bull... I told you to give me a little kick to help me fake it... You trying to kill me?"
Chen Xun lay on the ground, clutching his chest. That single hoof-strike had been so "graceful" it nearly sent him to meet his long-dead parents.
Moo~
The bull nudged Chen Xun apologetically. It hadn't realized its own strength had grown so much.
The bull carried Chen Xun back to the cave, where he spent several days nursing his ribs until his complexion finally returned to normal.
"We can never join those sects," Chen Xun explained to the bull's questioning gaze. "Sects are too dangerous. Killing is legal there, and I bet they eat beef—probably with a side of bull whip for 'vitality'."
The bull's pupils dilated in terror, and it shook its head violently. It didn't quite understand the "legal killing" part, but it understood "eating beef" perfectly.
The arrival of the Cultivators hadn't inspired Chen Xun; it had given him a profound sense of insecurity.
Sure, he had a grudge against Old Wang from the next village, but that was just a bit of brawling. These Cultivators... they killed people as easily as Chen Xun slaughtered a chicken. He would never forget that look in their eyes.