After the dicine Hall’s Steward announced the three-year term was being shortened to two, Yang Chan noticed even more people in the courtyard bitterly practicing the Ox Demon’s Mighty Fist. Even late at night, so were still training, pushing themselves to the brink.
Their faces were pale and their Qi and Blood were depleted, yet they still forced themselves to practice the Ox Demon’s Mighty Fist.
In the three days following the Steward’s announcent, Yang Chan saw more than twenty bodies being carried out of the dicine Hall for burial. And that was just the Servant Disciples from the dicine Hall; the number from other halls was likely no less.
This life-or-death struggle made Yang Chan truly realize the severity of the disaster in Qing State. If the disaster wasn’t so catastrophic, these Servant Disciples wouldn’t be so desperate. After all, you only get one life.
As the saying goes, it’s better to live a miserable life than to die a good death.
Only those who couldn’t survive outside would make such a choice.
However, after seeing so many deaths, so Servant Disciples quietly returned to their old routines, no longer pushing themselves so hard. But they were only a small portion.
Seeing this, the Cyan Yuan Sect’s Stewards arranged for a regular roll call to prevent anyone from dying unnoticed in their rooms, their bodies left to decompose.
In this sweltering heat, a body would start to stink within a few hours and could even trigger an epidemic.
During roll call, Yang Chan noticed that many nas on the list had been crossed out—all of them belonging to the dead.
His daily tasks were also increasing, because as Servant Disciples died, their duties were distributed among the survivors.
The people who used to have ti for idle chat were gone. Most faces now wore looks of misery, and a heavy silence had fallen.
anwhile, the Sect had begun recruiting new Servant Disciples from all over Qing State. This was to replace the batch of disciples who had served more than two years and were about to be dismissed. In these tis of famine, one could only imagine how fierce the competition would be.
Once the new Servant Disciples were recruited, the workload for the current ones would lighten, but no one was happy about it. Most of the senior Servant Disciples were about to be dismissed; this was the fate of nearly all of them.
These days, Yang Chan’s daily cultivation progress continued to improve steadily, but he didn’t feel much joy. He, too, wore a look of misery. Although the increased workload was distributed, he was now truly exhausted.
After finishing his Servant tasks each day, all he wanted to do was lie down and rest.
This was the reality for Servant Disciples, but for the Official Disciples of the Cyan Yuan Sect, nothing had changed. The new policy had no effect on them at all.
Only Official Disciples were considered true mbers of the Cyan Yuan Sect.
...
dicine Hall.
"Hall Master, today’s harvest from the dicinal Field is down by thirty percent. The weather is too hot. Even with Servant Disciples assigned to water them, many herbs have been scorched to death."
"The herbs collected from the foot of the mountain are down by forty percent. If this heat continues, I expect the yield will drop even further."
As the dicine Hall’s Steward in charge of collecting herbs, Sikong Yan was perfectly clear on the daily collection situation and knew the root cause of the shortage.
It was a natural disaster, not sothing that could be fought with manpower alone.
"From now on, assign an extra batch of Servant Disciples to water the dicinal Field each day. We have to stabilize the situation there. As long as we can hold out until the next big rain, things should return to normal."
Gu An nodded. It wasn’t the first ti he’d heard such bad news. The dicinal harvest was decreasing daily; all they could do was their best under the circumstances.
As the Hall Master of the dicine Hall and an Elder of the Cyan Yuan Sect, he had of course reported these issues to the Sect Leader and the others, but there were no easy solutions.
"In one month, it will be ti for the tributary herb delivery. You will handle it personally. Arrange for people to receive the shipnts."
Gu An instructed.
The herbs from the dicinal Field and local collections were only one part of the Cyan Yuan Sect’s supply. The majority ca as tribute from the various powers in Qing State under the sect’s protection. This tribute was paid twice a year. The more a power contributed, the more importance the Cyan Yuan Sect placed on them, and they would even dispatch sect disciples to help resolve their troubles.
"Yes, Hall Master. I will not disappoint you."
A look of delight appeared on Sikong Yan’s face. Being in charge of receiving the herbs sent from various regions ant he could skim so benefits for himself.
He would get first pick of the herbs he needed for his own cultivation and could use his position to acquire a portion for himself.
As long as he wasn’t too greedy, no one would usually bother him.
"Are those all Servant Disciples who have been here for over two years?"
Gu An asked casually, his gaze falling upon the disciples in the clearing who were using their noon break to diligently practice the Ox Demon’s Mighty Fist.
Most of these disciples had depleted their Qi and Blood. Although they were practiced in the Ox Demon’s Mighty Fist, their movents weren’t very precise. They were a far cry from achieving Perfection in the technique and would almost certainly fail to grasp the Wild Ox Force. They were all destined to be dismissed.
"Hm?"
Suddenly, Gu An’s eyes lit up as he spotted a figure among the crowd.
"Who is that."
Gu An asked, pointing to soone practicing the Ox Demon’s Mighty Fist.
Sikong Yan didn’t answer, instead looking to the Steward beside him. As a Steward of the dicine Hall, he naturally paid no mind to re Servant Disciples.
"Reporting to the Hall Master, that person is Yang Chan. He has been with the sect for two and a half years. He was a dicine Boy from Jishan Town who gathered herbs."
The Steward, seeing who Gu An was pointing at, instantly recalled Yang Chan’s identity. The Cyan Yuan Sect required all its Servant Disciples to have a clean, verifiable background.
"He beca a Servant Disciple by offering a Centennial Ginseng as tribute. Before joining the Cyan Yuan Sect, he was a dicine Boy. His work ethic is..."
The Steward flipped through the registry in his hand, finding the record of Yang Chan’s admission and so brief evaluations of his performance.
"Two and a half years... his aptitude is rather average. But his Ox Demon’s Mighty Fist is nearing completion. If he can grasp the Wild Ox Force, accept him into the dicine Hall."
After hearing it had been two and a half years, Gu An’s interest in Yang Chan waned considerably. If it had been a year and a half, or even less, then he would have been a true talent.
Still, anyone who could grasp Power could be accepted into the Cyan Yuan Sect as an ordinary disciple.
Besides, Yang Chan’s evaluation noted he was diligent and hardworking, which was acceptable. This could also serve as a beacon of hope for the other Servant Disciples.
After all, a Servant Disciple who had been a Beginner for two and a half years grasping Power and becoming an Official Disciple right before being dismissed would make for an inspiring tale.
It would also give so hope to those approaching their own two-year limit.
The upper echelons of the Cyan Yuan Sect would naturally be pleased to see such a thing happen.
"Yes, Hall Master."
Sikong Yan heard this and instantly understood Gu An’s intentions.
Recently, many Servant Disciples had died, causing so of the others to grow fearful and slack off. If news about Yang Chan were to spread at a ti like this, the situation would naturally improve.
He would be a living advertisent.
"After the herbs are done sun-drying, have a bowl of Qi Nourishing Soup sent to Yang Chan."
Sikong Yan instructed, looking at the Steward beside him.
"Yes, Steward."
The Steward quickly replied, marveling at Yang Chan’s good fortune.
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