On the Self-Cultivation of a Menial Disciple

Qingyun Sect has a set of unwritten rules.

Servants must obey, outer disciples must pick a side, and inner disciples must be born into the right family.

Spirit stones flow upward, merit points gather in the hands of a select few, and the lives of low-ranking disciples are just another expense in the ledger.

Zhou Zheng: four spirit roots, first level of Qi Refining, servant disciple.

According to the rules, he should be eaten by a demonic beast in the back hills, or die in an "accident" on a mission. The ledger would note a "loss," and his account would be closed at the end of the month.

But he didn't die.

He understands the rules, not the ones written in books, but the ones everyone follows without ever saying aloud. He understands loopholes, too: any system that's been running for a thousand years will have cracks.

The crack is small, just wide enough for a servant disciple to squeeze through sideways.

But that's enough.

No miraculous fortune from the heavens, no ancient patriarch passing down his cultivation.

Just a mouth, two legs, a brain, and a whole new way of doing things that this sect has never seen before.

Starting with errands for the Supplies Office, he takes one step at a time until he reaches the power players' table.