"Done!"
Zhao Ziwei wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead and, like performing a magic trick, pulled out a pile of "second-hand furniture" from his astonishingly high-capacity storage bag.
A massive hardwood bed, several sturdy armchairs, and even a broad Eight Immortals table.
"These are old pieces of furniture that got blackened when my artifact furnace exploded in the past."
"Although they smell a bit scorched, the wood is good, solid wood! I saw you didn't bring much luggage, so just make do with these for now!"
Zhao Ziwei enthusiastically moved these pieces of furniture—which carried a strong "battle-damaged" aesthetic—into the stone house.
While arranging them, he turned back and grinned at Mo Fan, as if claiming credit for his hard work.
Standing to the side, Mo Fan looked at this "luxury mansion" that had risen from the ground in less than half a day...
And those old pieces of furniture that, despite being slightly scorched, had been wiped completely clean.
His heart, for no reason, felt as if it had been bumped by something soft.
In this strictly hierarchical cultivation world, where the fickleness of human nature was sharper than swords and blades...
He was used to Steward Wang's greedy kick-them-while-they're-down attitude, and used to the deceit and class crushing among fellow disciples.
But the ADHD weirdo before him, exiled for peeping, simply because of the phrase "fellow junior brother," didn't hesitate to expend his spiritual energy and even emptied out his own old belongings.
Just to help a newcomer with a waste Spirit Root settle down.
"This cultivation world isn't entirely made of cold, hard calculations after all."
Mo Fan muttered silently in his heart. The high psychological wall he had erected out of extreme defensiveness lowered by a few fractions in this moment.
This somewhat bizarre Senior Brother Ziwei was indeed a genuine person worth befriending deeply.
With the new home completed, a housewarming banquet was naturally indispensable.
Mo Fan deeply understood the essence of worldly wisdom: In this world, you must never treat others' goodwill as a free ride. Returning a peach for a plum (reciprocating favors) was the only way to go far.
He lit a campfire in the courtyard.
"Brother Ziwei, you've worked hard today. I'm a newcomer and don't have much to host you with. Please don't disdain this bit of wild game and coarse wine."
Mo Fan wasn't stingy. He directly pulled out the hind leg meat of the Tier-1 late-stage Earth-Rending Giant Bear he had hunted earlier.
This was the part of the Spirit Beast with the most vigorous Qi and blood and the firmest texture. Next, he pulled out two jugs of high-tier spirit wine bought in the Market.
As the bear meat roasted over the campfire, grease dripped onto the flames, emitting a rich, mouth-watering aroma of meat.
"Whoa! Prime meat from a Tier-1 late-stage Spirit Beast? And this spirit wine!"
Zhao Ziwei's eyes lit up instantly. He sniffed, unceremoniously plopped his butt down by the campfire, took the wine jug Mo Fan handed him, tilted his head back, and took a huge, vicious gulp.
"Hah! Satisfying! Brother Xiaoqi, you're being too polite!"
After three rounds of drinks and half-full on meat.
The night sky was dotted with stars. The slightly tipsy Zhao Ziwei gradually put away his usual careless, heartless demeanor.
He looked at Mo Fan sitting opposite him—who, although deliberately restraining it, still exuded an aura of resilience—and his expression became somewhat solemn.
"Xiaoqi..."
Zhao Ziwei burped, his eyes clear as he looked at Mo Fan's bronze muscles. "Actually, I admire you quite a bit."
Mo Fan froze slightly, his hand turning the roasting meat pausing. "Senior Brother must be joking. What's there to admire about a servant with a waste Spirit Root like me?"
"Don't play dumb with me!"
Zhao Ziwei waved his hand, interrupting Mo Fan.
"People who have stayed in the inner sect for a long time have very sharp eyes. I heard about your performance on the Outer Court Grand Tournament stage. Tanking spell bombardments head-on, smashing a late-stage Qi Condensation cultivator flying with one stick."
He lowered his voice, his tone revealing a respect from the bottom of his heart.
"Without the nourishment of a Spirit Root, to train your physical body to that level, you have to shatter your bones and regrow them, and fry your skin and flesh in boiling oil to achieve it! That is no easy path; that is a true path of death, a path of blood!"
"For a mortal, relying on this ruthless refusal to accept fate, to forcibly smash open the gates of the inner sect... Just for this perseverance, you are ten thousand times stronger than those greenhouse flowers on the Main Peak who grow up eating pills every day!"
Facing this sudden, sincere praise, Mo Fan was somewhat moved. He raised his wine bowl, clinked it heavily against Zhao Ziwei's, and downed it in one gulp.
"Brother Ziwei overpraises me. I was forced by circumstance. 'The poor rely on mutation'—you always have to find a way to survive."
Mo Fan put down the wine bowl and smoothly steered the topic to the area he cared about most.
"However, Senior Brother, since you also have some understanding of body cultivation... Is this path of body cultivation really like the outside world says? That the Foundation Establishment stage is the ceiling, and one can never advance another inch?"
"Ceiling?"
Zhao Ziwei sneered, as if he had heard some absurd remark.
He leaned in closer, speaking mysteriously, "That's just rumors spread by those rogue cultivators outside who haven't seen the world, and those set-in-their-ways spell cultivators!"
"Although our Azure Cloud Sect is an orthodox Qi-refining sect, famous under heaven for sword arts and Daoist magic... thousands of years ago in the Ancient Era, body cultivators were terrifying existences capable of contending against the Heavenly Dao!"
The light of gossip and exploration flashed in Zhao Ziwei's eyes—a true performance of his nature as a peeping maniac.
"I'll give you the bottom line. This is a secret I discovered in the past when I was roaming all over the Main Peak and sneaking peeks at forbidden ancient texts."
He held up a few soot-stained fingers.
"In the deepest part of our Azure Cloud Sect's inner sect Scripture Pavilion—the legendary Heaven-Tier Forbidden Pavilion—there are at least four or five top-tier ancient body cultivation method remnants hidden!"
"Those methods are not something generic goods like the Iron Bone Technique can compare to!"
"It's said that if one could find the complete version and train it to the absolute limit, they could achieve Rebirth from a Drop of Blood and their physical body could Shatter the Void! Even if they encounter an old monster at the Soul Transformation stage, they'd dare to rely on a pair of fleshy fists to go up and tank a few hits!"
Mo Fan's breathing instantly grew a few degrees heavier. A terrifyingly bright glint erupted in his profound eyes.
"Deep in the Scripture Pavilion? Ancient body cultivation methods?"
This was exactly the cover identity he dreamed of!
If he could obtain that kind of method, not only could he legitimately display terrifying physical strength, but he could also perfectly fuse the death energy in his body with massive Qi and blood, achieving true dual cultivation of magic and martial arts!
"Don't get excited, brother."
Seeing Mo Fan's fanatical gaze, Zhao Ziwei mercilessly poured a basin of cold water on him.
"To borrow and read this kind of sect-suppressing treasure level manual, you absolutely can't buy it with Spirit Stones."
He sighed, his tone revealing a trace of helplessness.
"You must use a massive amount of [ Sect Contribution Points ] to exchange for it. At the very least, tens of thousands, or even over a hundred thousand points!"
"And for exiled inner sect disciples like us, we only get a pitiful 100 points of 'welfare' contribution every month. Even if you don't eat or drink and save up for a hundred years, it would only be enough to look at the cover."
100 points? Over a hundred thousand points?
This massive gap made Mo Fan's newly ignited fire of hope instantly wither.
However, Zhao Ziwei changed the subject. He slapped Mo Fan on the shoulder, winking and laughing like a big brother preparing to take his little brother out to do bad things.
"However! Heaven never seals off all paths!"
"Although your Senior Brother here got exiled, I was at least the hottest teaching assistant at the Forging Peak in the past (even though I blew up a few furnaces)."
"The stewards and deacons over there still have to give me some face."
Zhao Ziwei patted his chest, speaking with towering heroism:
"Tomorrow, you rest for a day. The day after tomorrow, your Senior Brother will personally take you to the Heavenly Works Workshop on the outskirts of the Main Peak through the back door!"
"As long as you're willing to put your back into it, not only can we make big money, but we can also scoop up massive amounts of Contribution Points! Sooner or later, Senior Brother will take you to loot that Scripture Pavilion absolutely dry!"