Journey to the West: A clone sacrifices to the heavens, possessing boundless magical power.

This person is named Zhao Yuan. He is a member of a family of cultivators who live at the foot of Wanshou Mountain and are dependent on Wuzhuang Temple. He is an illegitimate son of the Zhao family.

Although born out of wedlock, he stood out like a crane among chickens among a group of rogue cultivators and servants, most of whom came from humble backgrounds and had no one to rely on.

Every year, the Zhao family would offer a large number of spiritual materials to Wuzhuang Temple, so the Zhao family members had some privileges in the temple.

Zhao Yuan's entry into the temple as a menial servant was not for the few spirit stones of salary, but purely to gain prestige. If he was lucky enough to be noticed by one of the outer sect managers and accepted as a disciple, that would be a true meteoric rise.

At this moment, Zhao Yuan was sitting on a blue stone, playing with a folding fan in his hand, pointing arrogantly at the people around him.

"Hey you lot, hurry up! This spirit spring water has to be poured in when the sun is at its hottest to bring out the medicinal power of the Crimson Blood Spirit Soil. If you're late and it affects the quality of these herbs, can you handle the consequences if the manager blames you?"

The surrounding servants nodded obsequiously, their faces beaming with fawning smiles, repeatedly agreeing.

"Young Master Zhao is right, we'll go right away, we'll go right away."

"Young Master Zhao is truly knowledgeable and experienced. If it weren't for your guidance, we country bumpkins would never have known these intricacies."

Zhao Yuan gave a light hum, clearly enjoying the compliments.

His gaze swept around and suddenly landed on Shen Feng, who was carrying two large wooden buckets. He noticed that Shen Feng was wearing a plain gray Taoist robe with his trousers rolled up and covered in mud. Only after being reminded by others did Zhao Yuan realize that Shen Feng had recently been recruited into the outer sect with excellent grades.

A hint of indifference flashed in his eyes.

No matter how good one's grades are, one is still just a rogue cultivator with no foundation or lineage. Even if one enters this blessed land of immortals, one will ultimately just be a peasant who only knows how to use brute force.

He gave a wink to a skinny, monkey-like follower beside him.

The skinny monkey understood immediately and jumped out, blocking Shen Feng's path.

"Hey, isn't this Shen Feng, the temporary Lin Zhifu who got the lowest grade in the first class?" the skinny monkey said sarcastically. "What's wrong? You're already going to fetch water after just getting up? You're so diligent it's heartbreaking."

Shen Feng stopped and looked at the other person calmly. He didn't say anything, but simply turned slightly to try to go around them.

"stop!"

Seeing that Shen Feng ignored him, the skinny monkey felt he had lost face. He reached out and grabbed the handle of Shen Feng's wooden bucket. "What? Are you mute? Young Master Zhao is sitting here, and you're just going to leave without even saying hello? Don't you know any manners?"

Shen Feng frowned slightly and looked up at Zhao Yuan, who was sitting on the bluestone.

Zhao Yuan continued to wave his folding fan, a mocking smile on his lips, showing no intention of stopping him.

"What is it?" Shen Feng asked calmly.

"Of course something's wrong!" The skinny monkey pointed to the dozens of large wooden barrels piled up like a mountain by the well. These were magical containers specially used to hold spiritual spring water, and each one weighed several hundred kilograms when full.

"Young Master Zhao is unwell today and should not exert himself, but the ten acres of spirit fields he is in charge of also need to be irrigated today. You are the most diligent among our new recruits, so this task will be entrusted to you."

Upon hearing this, the expressions of the servants who had been watching the commotion all changed.

The amount of water needed to irrigate ten acres of spiritual fields is not small. Although the spiritual spring well is not far from the spiritual fields, the wooden bucket is extremely heavy and the spiritual spring water is cold, which consumes a lot of spiritual energy.

Ordinary laborers are already exhausted just from watering their own ten acres of land. If they were to help others as well, they probably wouldn't even have time to cultivate all day.

This is clearly bullying.

But when they saw that it was Zhao Yuan's idea, everyone shrank back and no one dared to step forward.

Shen Feng looked at the pile of wooden barrels, then at Zhao Yuan.

Zhao Yuan slowly closed his folding fan and said indifferently, "What? You're unwilling? We're all fellow disciples, helping each other is only right. Besides, I won't let you work for nothing. After it's done, I'll reward you with two low-grade spirit stones."

Two low-grade spirit stones—this is more like charity, and also an insult.

Zhao Yuan just wanted to see if this newly arrived rogue cultivator had any backbone.

Or rather, he wanted to establish his leadership position among the newcomers by belittling Shen Feng, who had made a big splash when he first joined the group.

Shen Feng remained silent for a moment.

Although his clone was just a tool, it wasn't a lump of dough to be kneaded at will.

but……

Fan Yuan's consciousness subtly rotated within the sea of ​​consciousness of his clone.

He came here to lie low and to plot the martial arts techniques of Wuzhuang Temple, not to fight or be aggressive.

Prematurely revealing his strength, or clashing with such a local tyrant, would attract too much attention and would be detrimental to him.

more importantly……

Shen Feng's gaze swept over the pile of wooden barrels, and then looked at the rolling spiritual fields in the distance.

The ten acres of land that Zhao Yuan was in charge of were located at the very edge of this spiritual field area, adjacent to a patch of uncultivated wasteland, and also the closest place to the edge of the outer gate protective array of Wuzhuang Temple.

"it is good."

Shen Feng nodded, his face showing no trace of anger or humiliation: "I accept."

A chorus of low hisses immediately rose from the surrounding area.

Some people shook their heads and sighed, thinking that Shen Feng was too cowardly, not daring to utter a sound even when someone was taking advantage of him. Others were gloating, thinking that this pushover had conveniently shielded them from disaster.

A hint of disappointment flashed in Zhao Yuan's eyes, followed by even deeper contempt.

He really is a spineless good-for-nothing.

"You're smart to know what's good for you." Zhao Yuan casually tossed out two spirit stones, as if dismissing a beggar. "Here you go. Don't say I've mistreated you. Remember, before sunset, I want all ten acres of land thoroughly watered. If even a single drop of water is missing, hmph..."

Shen Feng reached out and took the spirit stone, put it in his pocket, picked up the two wooden buckets without saying a word, walked to the well, and began to draw water.

"This kid, I'm afraid that's all he'll amount to in his life," Skinny Monkey chuckled in a low voice beside Zhao Yuan. "Young Master, look at how cowardly he is, he doesn't even dare to fart."

Zhao Yuan chuckled, stood up, and patted his clothes: "Alright, let's not waste time on him. Let's go to Qingmu Market. I heard that Duobao Pavilion received a batch of new pills today."

Several people surrounded Zhao Yuan and swaggered away.

Shen Feng was left alone, working silently by the well.

"Splash!"

The icy spring water was lifted up and poured into a wooden bucket.

Shen Feng picked up two full wooden buckets and walked steadily toward the spirit field located on the edge.

"Zhao Yuan? A member of the family?"

"Thank you for your kindness."

"Perfect. Under the pretext of fetching water, I can openly stroll around the edge of the great formation and familiarize myself with the geography of this outer sect."

……

Dark as ink.

Outside the Wuzhuang Temple, the disciples who had worked hard all day were either fast asleep, snoring loudly, or sitting cross-legged in meditation.

At this moment, Shen Feng sat cross-legged on the futon, his eyes slightly closed, his breathing long and rhythmic.

His consciousness was silently spreading out and merging into the boundless night outside the window.