Chapter 32: Neither Initiative, Nor Rejection, Nor Responsibility!

The male cultivators nearby were numb with disbelief. Who in their right mind would squander precious cultivation resources just to please a female cultivator? That’s practically cutting off one’s own future. Just wait and see—once these two beauties surpass you in cultivation, will they still be obedient and docile? When the time comes, you’ll face a classic “renouncing the engagement” scenario, and all your generosity will have been for nothing, your resources wasted.

The men were somewhat jealous and annoyed at Cao Xuan’s extravagant ways. Although no one had seen what exactly was in those bottles of pills, judging by the shy expressions of the two women, everyone could guess their value wasn’t low. Coupled with the earlier gifting of storage pouches, it was clear to everyone how vast the gulf between themselves and Cao Xuan truly was.

“Enough. I’ll be going into seclusion for cultivation again soon, so don’t come running to me over every trivial thing. I thought you had something important to discuss.”

“Miao Xuan, don’t stay cooped up in your cave all the time—learn some of the six arts of cultivation, just like Qian Ru.”

“And Qian Ru, since you want to study alchemy, focus and pay attention to spiritual plants and herbs. Is getting jealous really something you need to worry about?”

“That’s all for now. I’m heading back to train in seclusion!”

“If you’re out of pills or lacking any cultivation resources, send me a message via spiritual communication. If I see it, I’ll reply. If I don’t, it means I’m busy with something important.”

Cao Xuan gave both women a gentle warning and, for those he’d already successfully wooed, adhered to the three rules of the scoundrel: don’t initiate, don’t refuse, don’t take responsibility. This ensured he remained invincible, always able to extract resources without trouble.

The system had no limitations on gifting—he could give whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But Cao Xuan wasn’t foolish. Mindlessly throwing around resources would only cause problems for himself. He made sure he had enough for his own needs, while also keeping the emotional dynamics in constant flux.

This was the world of cultivation, not some peaceful utopia. Cao Xuan had no intention of becoming the so-called “great philanthropist” whose fortune outlives him after his demise.

His current generosity was already quite considerable—at least compared to ordinary cultivators. But overall, it was still within manageable bounds. After all, whether the gifts went to Lin Miao Xuan or Chen Qian Ru, they were mostly for personal use and rarely circulated in the market.

If anyone were to tally his monthly resource consumption, they might wonder how someone of his strength could possibly “earn” so much. But it was just like his previous life: while ordinary people spent a few thousand a month, he spent tens of thousands—not millions. And just as before, if a regular person spent hundreds of thousands to buy a house or a car, it wouldn’t arouse much suspicion, so long as they weren’t buying houses and cars every month.

So, whether it was storage pouches or pills, the surrounding cultivators merely envied and begrudged him, but found nothing truly amiss. Just as in his former life, you wouldn’t assume someone’s wealth was ill-gotten simply because they gifted two expensive bags in front of you—most would just envy them, like watching a rich second-generation kid chasing girls.

The incident at Moonwatch Valley quickly faded into the background. Cao Xuan returned to his routine cultivation, Lin Miao Xuan and Chen Qian Ru were both appeased, and could continue to serve as tools for extracting resources. The cultivators who had witnessed that night spread the story as gossip: there was a boot-licker in Qingyun Sect who lavished precious cultivation resources on female cultivators just to win their favor.

Of course, people reacted differently—some laughed, some didn’t believe it, some looked down on it. In the end, it became just another rumor in the sect, nothing of real consequence. As for why female cultivators described him as a “second-generation immortal” while the men called him a “boot-licker,” no one really knew, which only added to the unreliability of the tale.

“Junior Brother Cao Xuan, you worked hard refining pills today. You haven’t come in these past three months—I thought you’d quit!”

Inside the Earthfire Pill Chamber, an elder alchemist was cleaning up the last batch of refined pills, smiling as he spoke to Cao Xuan. After years of alchemy, he had found that Cao Xuan seemed to master everything instantly, as if he was an experienced alchemist’s perfect assistant—a first for him.

Alchemy required absolute concentration and was tedious and dull. Sometimes, if one’s state of mind was unstable, and an apprentice kept asking questions—how to handle this, did I make a mistake—it could be infuriating. But three months ago, after a chance encounter with Cao Xuan, he was able to focus completely and found alchemy incredibly pleasant for the first time.

When Cao Xuan went into seclusion and stopped coming to the pill hall, the elder tried working with several seasoned apprentices. Though they performed well, after experiencing perfection with Cao Xuan, something always felt lacking.

Cao Xuan replied respectfully, “Please don’t blame me, Senior Brother. I was inspired these past three months and spent some time in seclusion training.”

The elder was taken aback. Seclusion? For three months? At the Qi Refining stage, even a month in seclusion was too much, let alone three. Was he pretending to be a Foundation Establishment cultivator? Then, recalling the monotony of alchemy, he figured Junior Brother Cao must have needed a break, a three-month vacation, so he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled, “Balancing training and rest is good, but don’t neglect your alchemy!”

“My furnace has another hour left—feel free to use it for practice. I won’t stay.”

Cao Xuan thanked him sincerely. Experience from his previous life had taught him how to conduct himself: do not offend unless offended, respect those who respect you. This senior brother was easy-going, so Cao Xuan responded with proper courtesy. After all, by rank, he was an apprentice and the other was an alchemist—it was only right to fulfill his duties.

He had no intention of becoming arrogant just because he had the system, offending people carelessly and courting disaster.

As it happened, in a few days the annual sect assessment would take place, and the agreed duel with Fang Baiyu was approaching. He avoided making enemies, but with someone as reckless as Fang Baiyu, there was little he could do.

The annual Qingyun Sect assessment served to gauge everyone’s cultivation progress, allowing the sect to monitor its disciples and understand its overall strength. It was also a chance for promotion: probationary outer disciples could advance to outer disciples, and outer disciples to inner disciples. Furthermore, the elders could select hidden talents to become their personal disciples.

Had Cao Xuan not activated the Boot-Licker System, the three-year deadline would have been the moment his fate was decided. But now, he was already an inner disciple—he had “landed a civil service job,” so to speak. Even if he followed the path of those with little ambition who, after entering the outer sect, sought no further advancement, he could live a peaceful life within the sect.

Don’t look down on such disciples; those who recklessly pursue advancement, risking their lives in countless battles, may not enjoy as long or peaceful a life as these who reach the end safely.

“No need to overthink it. This is the perfect opportunity to refine the Purifying Spirit Pill, and I’m eager to see its effects.”