The Hundredfold Tempering: Afterword

A ninth-grade spirit root, a menial disciple, the least promising one in the Azure Cloud Sect. He swept the floors for eleven years. The half a volume of a ruined book in his sea of consciousness could collect only one thing: effort that everyone else discarded. Repeat the same task a hundred times, and if no one claims the effort, it can be exchanged for a tiny gain. Others worked hard at cultivation for thirty days just to earn one gain. He took on more than twenty odd jobs a day. In eleven years, he earned sixteen hundred gains, enough to establish his foundation three times over. But he told everyone he was at the fourth level of Qi Refining. One more level would qualify him for the outer sect, and that was the level he had deliberately held back. If he didn't establish his foundation by thirty, he would have to leave. He was twenty-five this year. By day, he swept the floors. At night, masked, he became someone else. The day he stopped holding back, the spirit-testing stone would shine so brightly that no one would dare make a sound. Others practiced a hundred moves. He practiced one move for three thousand five hundred years