He wasn't in a hurry to use his remaining proficiency points.
The primary issue was how to earn more of them.
Jiang Xun tucked the wood-chopping knife behind his waist, slightly concealing it with his outer robe, and stepped out the door.
He needed to first scout out the details of this "novice village."
As well as the conditions that the System had popped up.
In a game, it was simple—just click to talk. But finding dialogues that offered rewards was always the hard part.
The town was built along a stream flowing from the mountains. Most of the houses were dusty adobe or stone-and-wood structures, staggered in height.
Restaurants, inns, clanging blacksmith shops, and general stores—everything was present.
Pedestrians moved to and fro on the streets, dressed simply but mostly neatly. The sounds of shouting vendors, bargaining, and children playing intertwined, revealing a strange, isolated sense of stability and prosperity.
It was somewhat like the secluded Peach Blossom Spring from his previous life.
Yunshan Town had a population of about fifty or sixty thousand, which would have been considered a decent-sized town even in his past life.
Among the crowds, the most eye-catching were the foreign medicinal herb merchants, dressed in fine clothes and accompanied by servants or guards.
Most of them had a capable air and sharp eyes, their speech carrying an unconscious sense of condescension.
Jiang Xun quietly circulated his faint trace of Qi to sense his surroundings.
Sure enough, from several of them, he captured the same faint but definitely present fluctuations of Qi.
They were all Cultivators, though their cultivation wasn't high—hovering around the third or fourth level of Qi Refining—but among Mortals, they were already "experts."
There were many rumors about the Immortal in town, but no one could clearly describe his appearance. They only knew he came from an Immortal Sect and lived deep in the backyard of the Deacons Office year-round, rarely showing his face.
The Immortal didn't concern himself with mundane affairs, but he had established several iron laws, carved in striking red characters on the stone tablet in front of the Deacons Office:
1. Killing or harming others within the town is strictly prohibited.
2. Plundering or stealing the property of others is strictly prohibited.
3. Violation of women and children is strictly prohibited.
4. Resisting the payment of medicinal herb taxes or evading labor duties is strictly prohibited.
Any offender, regardless of who they are, will be sentenced to "Penal Labor."
The term "Penal Labor" was more terrifying than death in the hearts of the residents of Yunshan Town.
The Yunqi Mountain Range not only produced herbs, but its deeper reaches also contained thin veins of Spirit Stone ore.
The environment inside the mines was harsh, cold, and damp, with frequent collapses and the presence of strange underground poisonous insects.
Voluntary miners were already poorly paid and faced high risks. When those sentenced to "Penal Labor" went in, they received no wages, only the coarsest food and the most dangerous tasks; it was practically a death sentence.
The townspeople would rather risk going into the mountains to gather herbs than take a single step near the mines.
Jiang Xun stood before the stone tablet, reading the red characters several times, his heart filled with a cold clarity.
A clever method.
Far more sophisticated than the Demonic Path's approach of forced enslavement with chains and whips.
The Immortal Sect claimed this land, set up a Beast-Warding Formation, and provided basic security.
Then they established seemingly fair rules that protected the weak, prohibited internal violent conflict, and maintained basic order.
The price was that for generations, the people of the town were born with only two paths.
Go into the mountains to gather herbs for the Immortal Sect, or go into the mines to dig Spirit Stones for them. There was no other way.
They were penned within this hundred-mile radius. It seemed like they had a choice, but in reality, they had none.
Their world was already imprisoned within this tiny Yunshan Town.
Generation after generation, born here, raised here, working here, and finally buried here. The vast majority of all output flowed to the Immortal Sect and the merchants traveling between.
No whips or chains were needed.
Woven with security and rules, a soft net was cast. With medicinal herb taxes and Penal Labor as clear rewards and punishments, supplemented by information isolation and blocked exits, it was enough to make the vast majority of people spend their lives peacefully in this net, even feeling grateful.
Compared to the naked, bloody plunder and enslavement of the Demonic Path, this systematic domestication and extraction, cloaked in "order" and "protection," was perhaps more "civilized," but also more thorough and suffocating.
Jiang Xun turned and left the stone tablet.
The slight confidence he had gained from reaching the first level of Qi Refining and his saber technique proficiency was suppressed once again.
In this System, he was still at the bottom—mere resources.
He went to a rice shop and used the bag of copper coins from Jiang Wanxing to buy a small bag of about ten catties of coarse millet, adding a few of the cheapest green vegetables.
The coin pouch was instantly mostly empty.
Holding this tangible food, he gained a more concrete understanding of the extreme poverty of the home left by the Original Owner.
Returning to the still-desolate adobe house, Jiang Wanxing was crouching before the stove, using a small fire to toast a few hard, mixed-grain cakes.
Seeing Jiang Xun return, she subconsciously shrank her shoulders, but when she saw what he was carrying, her eyes suddenly widened.
"Rice? And vegetables?"
She stood up blankly, her small, soot-stained hands wiping repeatedly on her apron. She looked at the food, then at Jiang Xun's calm face, her lips moving but making no sound.
In her eyes, there was disbelief and a cautious joy.
Her brother seemed different from before.
It wasn't the irritability after drinking, nor the gloom after losing a bet, but a silent stability that was almost unsettling.
The original Jiang Xun had also been very sullen, but that was caused by an innate cowardice; sometimes, to cover up that cowardice, he would become violent.
"Make some thick porridge for dinner," Jiang Xun said, handing over the items in a casual tone.
"Oh... Oh! Okay, okay!" Jiang Wanxing snapped out of it, hurriedly taking them and beginning to prepare in a flurry.
Even the faint firelight seemed a bit brighter and warmer because of this food.
Jiang Xun didn't enter the house. Instead, on the dirt ground by the door, he took a stance and began practicing basic martial arts.
If a college student were passing by, they would exclaim that this was exactly the Military Boxing practiced during military training.
But it was somewhat soft and weak.
Unless practiced for years, Military Boxing couldn't cause any real damage.
Sweat slid down his forehead, and he didn't stop until a "ding" sounded.
The sun had completely set, twilight descended, and scattered lights flickered in the town.
Jiang Xun finished his stance, wiped his sweat, and told the house, "I'm going out for a bit," before turning and vanishing into the deepening night.
Passing through several quiet alleys, he reached the western edge of town.
Deep in a dark alley hung a dim lantern.
Beneath it was an inconspicuous small storefront with a heavy, greasy curtain. From inside, the clattering of dice and suppressed shouts could be heard.
This was "Brother Hu's" gambling den.
Jiang Xun stood at the door for a moment, then raised his hand and lifted the curtain.
The light inside was dim, with gamblers with cloudy eyes and faces full of either excitement or despair crowded around a few dilapidated tables.
Behind a table directly facing the door sat a burly man with a face full of scars and an open shirt revealing thick chest hair. This was Brother Hu.
Beside him stood several crooked-eyed, thick-waisted lackeys.
Brother Hu had just gulped down some cheap liquor and ordered a lackey:
"Go, take two men and bring that Jiang kid over. Damn it, the sun's down and I haven't seen the money or the person. Does he really think I'm a saint..."
Before he could finish, he caught sight of someone entering from the corner of his eye.
He paused and narrowed his eyes.
Several lackeys also turned their heads in unison. Seeing who it was, their faces immediately broke into malicious grins.
The gambling den suddenly grew much quieter. The other gamblers subconsciously shrank their necks, peeking with either curiosity or sympathy.
Jiang Xun stood still at the door, his gaze calmly meeting Brother Hu's scrutinizing eyes.
"Oh?" Brother Hu looked Jiang Xun up and down, seemingly trying to find the familiar fear or flattery on his face, but he only saw a deep calm. This surprised him and made him even more annoyed.
He grinned, revealing yellow-black teeth. "Kid Jiang, what a rare guest. What, got the money together and delivered it yourself?"
Jiang Xun took a step forward, the dim candlelight falling on half of his face, shifting between light and shadow.
He spoke, his voice not loud but clearly heard throughout the quiet gambling den:
"I don't have the money for now."
The flesh on Brother Hu's face twitched, and a lackey nearby was already cracking his knuckles.
Jiang Xun acted as if he didn't see it and continued steadily, "At the end of the month, after the Medicinal Herb Tax is paid, I will return the principal and interest together.
Give me a half-month extension."
The gambling den was silent at first, then suddenly erupted with the exaggerated sneers of the lackeys and low murmurs from the gamblers.
"Hahaha! Is this kid dreaming?"
"A half-month extension? Do you think Brother Hu runs a charity?"
"By sunset! Don't you know the rules?!"
The malicious grin on Brother Hu's face slowly disappeared, replaced by a dark, offended rage.
He slowly stood up, his massive frame carrying a sense of pressure as he walked up to Jiang Xun, almost face-to-face, his breath reeking of alcohol:
"Jiang Xun, have you... taken the wrong medicine?"