I run a casino in the immortal realm.

The day after Zheng Dashan moved into his new house, he wrote a letter and asked a waiter from Zhao's Restaurant to send it back to his hometown.

The letter was short, containing only three things: I've moved; the address is on Fangshi South Street; I've reached the seventh level of Qi Refining.

In the afternoon, people from my hometown came.

It was none other than Zheng Yifei's second uncle, Zheng Dahe, who rode a skinny donkey, having traveled twenty miles of mountain road covered in dust.

Zheng Dahe is three years younger than Zheng Dashan, but he looks more than ten years older.

His face was covered in sun-cracked wrinkles, and the calluses on his hands were thicker than tree bark. He wore a gray-brown short jacket with seven or eight patches, and his cloth shoes had half of his toes sticking out.

He stood there stunned for a full three breaths when he stepped into the courtyard.

The courtyard was made of bricks and tiles, with bluestone pavement and a locust tree planted in it. He had never been to such a respectable house in his life.

"Brother, this...you bought this?"

Zheng Dashan came out of the kitchen, holding half a bowl of spirit rice porridge in his hand: "Yifei bought it."

Zheng Dahe swallowed hard, his gaze sweeping around the courtyard before finally settling on Zheng Yifei, who was walking out of the side room.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He sensed it because of the spiritual energy fluctuations emanating from Zheng Yifei.

He was at the second level of Qi Refining, and he couldn't even distinguish the levels of spiritual energy fluctuations, but he knew one thing—his nephew's aura was even more profound than that of the Zhao family steward in Black Mountain Market.

"Second Uncle."

Zheng Yifei shouted.

"Hey, hey."

Zheng Dahe responded twice, unsure of what to do with his hands and feet.

"How are you and Grandpa and Grandma?"

"Okay, all is well."

Zheng Dahe snapped out of his daze and slapped his forehead: "Oh right, your grandpa asked me to pass on a message, asking you to take Yifei back with you. The whole family wants to see him."

Zheng Dashan hesitated for a moment and looked at Zheng Yifei.

"go."

Zheng Yifei said.

The old house is located in Zhengjia Village, west of Fangshi.

It's called a village, but it's really just a courtyard surrounded by a dozen or so mud-brick houses at the foot of the mountain, with dozens of acres of low-yield, inferior spiritual fields around it.

The Zheng family has been rooted here for four generations, and not a single one of them has ever become a cultivator above the fifth level of Qi Refining.

When Zheng Yifei followed Zheng Dashan into the village, it was noon.

Several naked children were squatting on the threshing ground turning over the rice. When they saw strangers coming, they all ran back to call for their parents.

When Zheng Yifei arrived at the front of the old house, a group of people were already standing in the courtyard.

My third uncle, Zheng Dajiang; my aunts, Liu and Sun; my cousins, Zheng Erniu and Zheng Sanshi; and a few other female cousins ​​whose names I don't know.

All eyes were on Zheng Yifei.

It wasn't because he recognized him, but because of the undeniable fluctuations of spiritual energy emanating from him. The tallest person present was Third Uncle Zheng Dajiang, at the third level of Qi Refining. Standing before Zheng Yifei, his back instinctively tensed.

The curtain to the main room was lifted, and a hunched old man with a cane walked out.

Zheng Laogen, 73 years old, Qi Refining Level 4.

He had been stuck at this level of cultivation for forty years, and hadn't moved an inch since.

In the world of cultivation, the lifespan of a fourth-level Qi Refining cultivator is about 120 years, but years of hard work and lack of nutrition have made him look like a withered tree stump that could be blown over by the wind at any moment.

"grandfather."

Zheng Yifei stepped forward.

Zheng Laogen stared at Zheng Yifei with his cloudy eyes, his lips trembling for a long time.

He reached out and placed his rough palm on Zheng Yifei's wrist.

A wisp of spiritual energy probed over.

The sheer volume of spiritual energy returning caused the old man's hand to tremble violently.

"seven……"

Zheng Laogen's voice rang out: "Seventh floor?"

The courtyard was quiet.

Zheng Dahe and Zheng Dajiang exchanged a glance, both seeing the shock in each other's eyes.

Seven floors.

What does it mean to reach the seventh level of Qi Refining? It means you can walk around Black Mountain Market with impunity, it means the heads of the Zhao, Wang, and Liu families will all greet you with utmost respect, and it means that the combined cultivation of four generations of the Zheng family is not as high as that of this young man.

Zheng Laogen's hands trembled more and more violently, his eyes reddened, and his cane thumped loudly on the ground.

"Okay, okay, okay!"

He said "good" three times in a row. When he said the third "good," he swayed and almost fell backward.

Zheng Dashan and Zheng Dahe helped him up at the same time.

"Dad, please don't get agitated," Zheng Dashan said anxiously.

"I'm not excited?"

Zheng Laogen pushed away his two sons' hands, gripping Zheng Yifei's wrist tightly and refusing to let go: "Four generations of the Zheng family! Four generations! All of them are peasants at the second or third level of Qi Refining! They've spent their whole lives farming spirit fields, being trampled underfoot their whole lives! Yifei, you've made something of yourself, you've brought honor to the Zheng family!"

The old man's voice trembled, and tears streamed down his wrinkled face.

Zheng Yifei did not withdraw his hand.

He stood there, letting the old man hold his hand, waiting for him to release all his energy.

Everyone in the courtyard had tears in their eyes. The Zheng family had been poor for generations. How poor were they? So poor that Zheng Dashan had to scrape together every penny to pay for the trip to Sujiafang Market with his entire family.

They were so poor that during the Lunar New Year, three families would pool their resources to share a single chicken.

After finally calming down, Zheng Laogen wiped his face and pulled Zheng Yifei into the main room.

The furnishings inside the house were so shabby it was unbearable to look at. There was a table with a missing leg propped up by bricks, a few chairs that were about to fall apart, and a pile of this year's newly harvested rice in the corner, about two or three hundred catties, which was the family's food for half a year.

"Yifei, your father said in his letter that you're going to the Qingyun Sect?"

Zheng Laogen sat down, his cane resting beside his legs.

"Yes, we'll leave the day after tomorrow."

Zheng Laogen took a deep breath.

Qingyun Sect.

What kind of place is that? It's one of the top ten cultivation sects in the entire Southern Wilderness. Even the cultivators in the market have to lower their voices when they talk about it. The people of Zhengjia Village have never seen what the disciples of the Qingyun Sect look like in their entire lives.

"Go! We have to go!"

Zheng Laogen slammed his cane on the ground, his voice becoming louder: "The thing I regret most in my life is that I couldn't support your father to go out into the world. Your eldest son has good talent. If we had had spirit stones to let him cultivate back then, he wouldn't have been stuck at the third level of Qi Refining for his whole life."

At this point, the old man's voice lowered.

He looked at Zheng Dashan standing at the door, his cloudy eyes filled with shame.

"Eldest son, I'm so sorry. Back then, we only had so many spirit stones at home. You wanted to go to the market to make your way in the world, but I didn't give you a single spirit stone for your travel expenses..."

"Father, stop talking."

Zheng Dashan waved his hand: "That's all in the past."

"It's not a thing of the past."

Zheng Laogen shook his head, his voice muffled: "You are the eldest, the most hardworking, and the least complaining. Your father relies on your honesty and lets you bear all the hardships."

On the morning you left, when you took the whole family to Sujiafang Market, Dad stood at the village entrance watching your retreating figures. He felt a pang of sadness, but he couldn't express it.

The main room fell silent.

Zheng Dahe and Zheng Dajiang stood outside the door, heads down, neither of them speaking.

They knew what had happened back then. The family was poor and didn't have enough spirit stones to go around, so the eldest brother voluntarily gave them up without any fuss or argument, and left with his wife and children.

Zheng Yifei spoke up.

"Grandpa, my father doesn't blame you."

Zheng Laogen raised his head.

"I know about your family situation."

Zheng Yifei said calmly, "A few acres of inferior spiritual land yield so little in a year. With three sons and three families, there are too many monks and not enough porridge. No matter how it's divided, someone will suffer. My father went out on his own; it was his choice."

As it turns out, we were on the right track.

Zheng Laogen opened his mouth, but couldn't say a word.

Zheng Yifei took a cloth bag from his pocket and placed it on the table.

He opened the bag.

The crisp, distinctive clinking sound of spirit stones echoed in the room. Fifty low-grade spirit stones were piled on the broken-legged table, emitting a faint spiritual glow.

The entire main room was brightened by one color.

Zheng Laogen stared at the pile of spirit stones, his whole body stiffening.

Fifty dollars.

He saved up his entire life's savings for his coffin, and only managed to save ten dollars.

"Grandpa, take these and buy some things for your second and third uncles' families. If your two cousins ​​want to cultivate, buy them a few basic Spirit Gathering Pills; that should be enough for a while."

Zheng Laogen shakily pulled out an oilcloth bag from his pocket, opened it, and inside were ten spirit stones, neatly stacked.

"This is the travel money your grandfather saved for you..."

"Grandpa, I don't need money."

Zheng Yifei pressed down on the old man's hand and pushed the oilcloth bundle back; "Keep these ten spirit stones and buy some good tonics to nourish your body. Once I've established myself in the Qingyun Sect, if Erniu and Sanshi are willing, I'll take them over."

"No, you must take this money—"

"grandfather."

Zheng Yifei interrupted him, his voice not loud, but everyone in the main room could hear him clearly.

What I'm giving you now is just a small fraction.

He looked into Zheng Laogen's eyes.

"When I reach the Foundation Establishment stage and come back, what I'll give you won't be spirit stones, but an entire spirit vein."

No one spoke in the main room.

Zheng Laogen held the oilcloth bag containing ten spirit stones, his fingers trembling, but he eventually put it away.

It's not that he doesn't want to give it, it's that his grandson won't let him.

Zheng Laogen remembered what he said.

Foundation building.

Spiritual veins.

He lived for seventy-three years and never dared to think about those two words.

But looking at his seventeen-year-old grandson, he suddenly felt that it might not be impossible.

It was already dark when we left the old house.

Zheng Laogen, leaning on his cane, escorted Zheng Yifei to the village entrance. Standing under the crooked old locust tree, he watched the father and son's figures disappear at the end of the mountain road.

He stood there for a long time until Zheng Dahe came to help him back.

"Dad, let's come inside, it's windy."

Zheng Laogen didn't move.

"Second son."

"Um?"

Do you believe what your nephew said?

Zheng Dahe paused for a moment, then asked, "Which sentence?"

"After the foundation is established, give our family an entire spiritual vein."

Zheng Dahe scratched his head and chuckled dryly, "Dad, Foundation Establishment Pills are so expensive, and spiritual veins are something I wouldn't even dare to dream of..."

I believe you.

Zheng Laogen turned around and walked back, his cane poking small holes in the dirt road.