Taoists who have achieved the Dao may be able to move mountains and overturn seas, but they ultimately erge from the ranks of the unremarkable. Despite their celestial deanor and detachnt from worldly affairs, if no one keeps the mundane outside the door, they are rely old n and won. Even with fasting techniques or the ability to avoid sweat grooves, their clothes still tear, their shoes still wear out, and houses still break down—with no one to repair them. Mundane issues such as attending to disciples and other miscellaneous chores remain. Since these matters are beyond immortal laws, they rely on hands weathered with calluses and tinged with a bit of self-conscious humility.
Ordinary Taoist sects or Buddhist temples often deploy outer disciples for nial tasks under the na of "tempering the mind." However, how much is true tempering and how much is exploitation? Only the monks and Taoists living in secluded heights would truly know. In larger Taoist sects and temples, specialized laborers are often employed—these are terd "fireworker Taoists." The reasons are simple: apart from the expansive estates, even outer disciples are often extrely talented, and assigning them to petty chores is deed too wasteful.
At Yin Sword Mountain, the laborers' group is stationed primarily at Green Wall Peak. Spanning over a hundred zhang (approximately 333 ters) from the mountainside to the slope above and below, woodhouses and tile-roofed cottages are densely lined. The workforce consists of sturdy won and so young girls from farming families, sent to practice household skills. Most are honest and straightforward in character. Add to this the fact that Yin Sword Mountain is a renowned immortal sect that shelters the surrounding region with both kindness and authority, making these workers even more loyal—unlike the servants of wealthy families who often filch and exploit opportunities. Recently, a new housekeeper was appointed to manage the laborers' group. Her background was unknown, but her appearance was dignified and gentle. At first, the elders among the laborers who had been there for a long ti underestimated her. However, this woman—calm but cunning—soon demonstrated a masterful hand in managent, skillfully exercising authority while sowing division. Within re days, she organized and controlled the sixty-plus mbers of the cooking and clothing teams, putting them in ticulously ordered service. Even those harboring discontent dared not voice their complaints openly and were even too frightened to spread gossip in secret.
Under the locust tree, during a rare mont of leisure, stood three won—one young, about fifteen or sixteen years old, and one older, possibly in her fifties—chatting about mountain gossip with the woman managing them.
The young woman said, "I heard a few days ago that monsters were running wild on the mountain, causing a lockdown. It was so alarming! But now that those days have passed, nothing seems to have happened at all. Instead, we've accumulated several days' work—what a headache, what a headache."
Min Ming smiled lightly, neither nodding in agreent nor shaking her head in denial. She simply replied, "They have their matters to handle; we should focus on ours. You, for one, ought to learn to be capable like Auntie Zhang here. Change your temperant—otherwise, where's the worry about marrying well in the future?"
The young woman shyly lowered her head, while the older woman chuckled and said, "Oh, don't flatter like that, Housekeeper Min. I only learned to manage things like this in my younger years when I was a maidservant for others—made my waist thick and my legs sturdy. If she becos like , it won't be good at all."
"A sturdy figure cos with blessings," Min Ming paused and asked, "Are the als prepared for the day?"
"All ready. Whatever extras you wanted added have been taken care of too," reported the older woman.
"Good. Thank you for organizing everything, Auntie Zhang. I'll give you sothing to compensate later," Min Ming responded.
The older woman nodded in acknowledgnt.
Yin Sword Mountain still has many disciples who have not yet mastered fasting techniques, and Taoist als have always been simple and plain. Many disciples find them hard to adapt to. Min Ming secretly adds little dishes through the cooking team. These small gestures accumulate goodwill over ti—"grace," after all, is made of "cause" above and "heart" below. Over the years, Yin Sword Mountain's various disciples have grown deeply satisfied with the cooking team's output, precisely for this reason.
The three won chatted a while longer before parting ways as the evening deepened. The older woman was about to leave but was suddenly called back.
Min Ming reached into her pocket and produced two coins worth a hundred each. "These aren't part of what I promised you. Consider them a small gesture. I heard your youngest child is about to reach school age—take these two hundred coins and enroll him in a private academy."
The older woman looked down at the coins—Xingning Coins from the era of the forebear emperor—and instinctively weighed them in her hands. They felt substantial!
"You—you truly have… such a generous heart!"
The older woman's words tumbled out clumsily as she hurriedly tucked the coins into her pocket.
Min Ming didn't mind her candor and said, "Don't tell anyone else about this; make sure you keep it hidden."
"I'll keep it safe, I'll keep it safe," the older woman nodded repeatedly.
As she watched Auntie Zhang walk away, Min Ming lifted her head to observe the darkening skies. In the twilight dimness, she turned to look once again at the towering Yin Sword Mountain stretching endlessly upward. Against a backdrop of drifting clouds and tranquil forest birds returning to their nests, it was a scene unlike anything the bustling Capital City could offer. Coming here by fate, she had spent nearly a year in this place, still feeling a sense of wonder. Thoughts of Min Ning surfaced inevitably—she didn't know if word of his heroic deeds had spread throughout the Jianghu, nor whether he had donned his cotton coat now that the weather had turned cold.
"Housekeeper Min, aren't you heading back yet?" a servant woman called out from a distance, noticing her standing still.
Min Ming snapped back to reality and replied, "Heading back now."
She promptly began walking, keeping her head low and carefully navigating her way. Her heavy clothing shifted as she walked, slightly obstructing her movent, making her pay extra attention to the stones on the ground to avoid stumbling.
Returning to her standalone cottage, Min Ming opened the door and stepped inside. She took a deep breath, looked down at herself, and let out a self-deprecating chuckle.
"A generous heart? Having a full bosom isn't of much use now, is it?"
"That's not entirely true," ca an unexpected voice.
Min Ming's hairs stood on end. Following the sound, she looked over to find a man's figure seated at her table, leisurely flipping through a book.
Who else could it be but Chen Yi?
Chen Yi gave a gentle smile as he slowly closed the book. Over the past year, Min Ming's appearance had grown less embellished by heavy makeup but was no less striking. In fact, living amidst the spiritual energy of mountain and water had imbued her with an added ethereal charm. Unconsciously, his gaze traced down her neckline, finding a scene of ample elegance still unchanging.
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