Two years passed in the blink of an eye.
Or, more accurately, in the blink of an eye and the repeated sound of slippers smacking flesh.
Life in Li Village had settled into a strange but oddly stable rhythm.
Li Yanya and Li Yanli—through grit, discipline, and the kind of self-control monks wrote poems about—had both successfully stepped into the Qi Gathering Stage, and not just barely either. They were firmly in late Qi Gathering, their qi steady, circulation smooth, foundations unshakable.
This achievement alone was enough to shock the entire village.
As for Li Yanxu—
He was in Peak Qi Gathering Stage.
And no one was more offended by this fact than his siblings.
"Explain," Li Yanya said, cracking her knuckles ominously. "Slowly."
Li Yanxu lay sprawled on the bamboo chair in the courtyard, one leg hanging off the side, chewing sunflower seeds. "Explain what?"
"How," Li Yanli said calmly, though his smile was strained, "you reached Peak Qi Gathering."
Li Yanxu blinked. "By cultivating?"
Li Yanya threw a slipper.
PA!
It smacked him squarely on the forehead.
"By sleeping," she corrected. "By napping. By wandering around the village. By hiding behind grain sacks."
"That was strategic stealth," Li Yanxu protested, rubbing his head. "Also, Heavenly Dao favoritism."
That earned him a second slipper.
PA!
The injustice burned particularly hard because the siblings knew the truth.
Li Yanxu's cultivation was, frankly, unfair.
While Li Yanya rose before dawn to circulate qi with military precision, and Li Yanli balanced work, cultivation, and household responsibilities with monk-like discipline, Li Yanxu—
Cultivated while sleeping.
Circulated qi while eating.
Advanced realms while being chased with slippers.
His Leisurely Immortal's Boundless Thread Manual was, in Li Yanya's words, "an insult to all hardworking people."
Despite their cultivation talent, reality remained cruel.
Li Village had thin spiritual energy.
Painfully thin.
The kind of place where qi politely knocked before entering and left early to avoid awkwardness.
Even geniuses struggled here.
It had taken Li Yanya and Li Yanli a full two years to climb from Body Refinement into Qi Gathering—not because they were untalented, but because the environment simply refused to cooperate.
And to make matters worse—
Spiritual stones didn't buy rice.
Divine pills didn't pay for cloth.
And the spirit space, for all its treasures, produced zero mortal currency.
Which meant—
They still had to work.
Li Yanli continued working as a clerk in the city.
His cultivation only made him more popular—clear eyes, refined demeanor, calm presence. Women and gers alike found excuses to "accidentally" pass by his desk.
He declined them all.
"I have family," he would say politely.
The city aunties sighed tragically.
Li Yanya stitched clothes, took commissions, and occasionally helped farmers lift things they absolutely should not have been lifting alone.
She became known as the "Gentle But Terrifying Seamstress."
People respected her deeply.
People also did not bargain with her.
As for Li Yanxu—
He wrote novels.
Extremely successful novels.
Cultivation gossip novels.
True-story-based cultivation gossip novels.
His income now supported half the household.
This fact enraged Li Yanya on principle.
One memorable morning, Li Yanxu was peacefully cultivating under a tree.
Which is to say—
He was asleep.
Snoring.
A faint qi ripple drifted lazily around him.
Li Yanya approached silently.
Raised her slipper.
Paused.
"…Why is his qi circulating?"
Li Yanli checked. "…It is."
The slipper hesitated.
Li Yanxu rolled over.
Advanced.
Right there.
A faint pop echoed as his qi stabilized at Peak Qi Gathering.
Li Yanya's slipper slipped from her hand.
"…I'm going to beat him anyway," she said.
Li Yanxu woke up mid-swing.
PA!
"WHY—?!" he yelped.
"Because I'm angry," Li Yanya said calmly.
Li Yanli nodded. "Reasonable."
Song Zhi was now seven years old.
Polite. Smart. Handsome.
Also—
A professional snitch.
"Third Uncle is hiding behind the well," he would announce cheerfully.
"I get candy later."
Li Yanxu stared at him in betrayal. "I taught you how to write!"
"And Mother taught me loyalty," Song Zhi replied solemnly.
Song An, now five, was worse.
Cute.
Smiling.
And deeply, deeply dangerous.
He followed Li Yanxu like a shadow.
When Li Yanxu hid, Song An hid with him.
When Li Yanxu got caught, Song An clapped.
The villagers adored both children.
They were called "Little Immortals" despite not cultivating yet.
Especially Song An.
Especially after the Hen Incident.
Even Li Yanli had become popular.
Too popular.
Village aunties started bringing food "by coincidence."
Young women lingered at the gate.
A traveling ger once asked directly if he was interested in marriage.
Li Yanli declined.
"I need to take care of my family," he said gently.
The ger left heartbroken.
Li Yanxu watched from behind a wall.
"…Second brother," he said later, "you're wasting potential plotlines."
Li Yanli stared at him.
"Don't turn my life into one of your novels."
Li Yanxu smiled. "No promises."
Despite Li Yanxu's absurd progress, the siblings understood the truth.
This village was holding them back.
Spiritual energy was thin.
Resources were limited.
If they wanted to go further—
They would need to leave.
Li Yanya looked toward the mountains one evening, eyes sharp.
"Qi Gathering won't be enough forever."
Li Yanli nodded. "Foundation Establishment requires better qi density."
Li Yanxu yawned. "Can't we worry about that later?"
Li Yanya raised her slipper.
Li Yanxu ran.
For now, life continued.
They cultivated.
They worked.
They argued.
They chased Li Yanxu around the village.
At night, when everyone slept, Li Yanxu would lie on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Peak Qi Gathering.
At ease.
Too easy.
The Heavenly Dao watched quietly.
The road ahead was long.
But for now—
The slippers were flying.
And somehow, that felt like home.
.--
The day Song Zhi's final meridian opened, the Li household smelled like medicinal steam, sweat, and triumph.
Song Zhi sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes bright, back straight, small hands resting properly on his knees like a tiny immortal who had memorized etiquette manuals before learning multiplication. Faint qi rippled around him, clumsy but sincere, like a child trying very hard not to trip.
Li Yanya stared at him as if she had personally forged him out of iron.
Li Yanli checked his pulse twice, because once was clearly insufficient.
Li Yanxu leaned against the doorframe, yawning.
"Congratulations," Li Yanxu said lazily. "You're officially more hardworking than me at seven."
Song Zhi opened his eyes and smiled shyly. "Third Uncle helped."
Li Yanxu waved it off. "I mostly supervised emotionally."
Li Yanya turned sharply. "We're leaving."
Li Yanxu blinked. "Leaving what?"
"The village," she said decisively. "This place is too small."
Li Yanli nodded. "The spiritual energy here is insufficient. Song Zhi needs a better environment."
Song An, who was sitting on Li Yanxu's lap chewing on a wooden toy, looked up. "Leave?"
"Yes," Li Yanxu said casually. "We're moving to somewhere with better food."
Song An clapped.
Thus, the decision that would shake Li Village to its core was made in under three breaths.
They packed quickly.
There wasn't much to pack, honestly. A few clothes. Some tools. Li Yanli's work records. Li Yanya's needles. The children's things.
And then—
Li Yanxu stepped in.
"Wait," he said, holding up a finger. "If we're leaving, we're leaving properly."
Li Yanya frowned. "Define 'properly.'"
Li Yanxu smiled. A very dangerous smile.
"Comfortably."
Two days later, the Li family reemerged.
The village never recovered.
Li Yanxu had decided that if they were moving to Qihan County, a second-grade city known for its noble families and dense spiritual energy, then they would not arrive looking like refugees.
They would arrive looking rich.
Painfully rich.
He took out bolts of high-grade silk and cloud-woven fabric like cabbages. Tailors from the neighboring town were summoned and promptly fainted. Measurements were taken. Designs argued over.
Li Yanya ended up in deep red and black, sharp and commanding.
Li Yanli wore pale gray and jade accents, understated and refined.
Song Zhi looked like a young master who could bankrupt a tea house by accident.
Song An looked adorable enough to be stolen.
And Li Yanxu—
Li Yanxu emerged in black hanfu embroidered with subtle silver thread that only caught the light when he moved. His hair was tied loosely, a few strands falling carelessly around his face.
His blue eyes—unnatural, inherited from his other life—were deep and clear, like the night sky swallowing stars whole.
The village aunties stopped breathing.
The village uncles forgot how to walk.
The chickens panicked.
"…Who is that?" someone whispered.
Li Yanxu blinked. "Do I look strange?"
Li Yanya stared at him. "…Cover your face."
"Why?"
"You're going to cause trouble."
Li Yanxu considered that. "That sounds like other people's problem."
Then he made things worse.
He took out three carriages.
Not carts.
Not wagons.
Carriages.
Elegant, polished, spiritually reinforced carriages that gleamed quietly under the sun.
The village horses took one look at them and collectively decided they were unworthy.
One horse attempted to approach, sniffed the wheel, and backed away with wounded dignity.
"…They don't match," Li Yanli said carefully.
Li Yanxu nodded. "I know."
The solution was obvious.
They would hire people.
They traveled first to a nearby third-grade city.
Li Yanxu walked into the market with a relaxed air and left with twenty slaves, purchased cleanly with spirit stones.
The traders nearly wept in gratitude.
Li Yanya watched carefully, assessing each one. Strong bodies. Clear eyes. No signs of abuse that couldn't be healed.
Li Yanxu snapped his fingers.
"Clean them."
The space obliged.
By the time they were done, the slaves stood in orderly lines, clothed, fed, bathed, and staring at the Li family as if they were witnessing divine beings.
"You'll lead the carriages," Li Yanxu said. "You'll be paid. Treated well. Behave, and you'll live comfortably."
They bowed so deeply their foreheads nearly touched the ground.
Thus, the Li family departed.
Li Yanxu rode in the first carriage with Song An sprawled across his lap, playing with his fingers.
Li Yanli rode in the second with Song Zhi, patiently explaining qi circulation patterns while the child listened earnestly.
Li Yanya took the third alone, arms crossed, eyes sharp, whip coiled at her side.
Three carriages.
Three genders.
Zero shame.
They did not hide their wealth.
They flaunted it.
The road to Qihan County rippled with whispers.
"Who are they?"
"That ger is too beautiful—"
"Those guards—no, slaves—no, what are they?"
"Noble family?"
"Hidden clan?"
Li Yanxu leaned out of the carriage slightly and waved at a stunned cultivator.
Song An waved too.
The cultivator fell off his horse.
By the time Qihan County's gates came into view, the guards were already sweating.
Three luxurious carriages approached, drawn by uniformed attendants, spiritual pressure subtle but undeniable.
The guard captain swallowed.
"State your name."
Li Yanxu yawned lightly. "Li."
The captain blinked. "Which Li?"
Li Yanxu smiled. "The one you'll remember."
Behind him, Li Yanya cracked her knuckles.
The gates opened immediately.
As the carriages rolled in, Li Yanxu leaned back, completely satisfied.
"This," he said, closing his eyes, "is how you cultivate properly."
Somewhere above, the Heavenly Dao paused.
Then sighed.
This chosen one… was impossible.
And yet—
The road of ascension had never looked more comfortable.