Chapter 538: Commoner, the Indomitable One

Qi Suian spent another seven days at Xingdu Temple, but he made absolutely no progress in his cultivation of the Buddhist Teachings.

In the end, Huixin could only arrange for some Buddha Fields for Qi Suian at the foot of the mountain where Xingdu Temple stood. After helping him set up a home and property, he let him continue his life as a farmer.

Farming the Buddha Fields meant a tax of one for every two parts harvested.

Essentially, a fifty-fifty split.

It wasn’t just the Buddhist Family’s Daoist Lineage that operated this way; the Daoist Lineages of the Confucian and Daoist families were the same.

There might be slight variations, but the proportions rarely changed.

Otherwise, where would the Extraordinary Beings, who produce nothing themselves, get the resources to cultivate? There was only one way: exploit those beneath them.

Furthermore, these holdings weren’t limited to just farmland; they encompassed various industries like medicinal herbs, textiles, and more.

One could say that these three families held a monopoly over everything in Guiyun City.

No matter what work the commoners did, the profits ultimately flowed to these three families and the Court.

Even with Qi Suian’s connection to Huixin, there was no way to get the land tax reduced or waived.

His connection simply meant that when the tax collectors came, they wouldn’t dare pull any shady tricks.

They called it a fifty-percent tax, but the collectors weren’t from Xingdu Temple itself—the work was outsourced.

As long as the outsourced collectors handed over enough grain each year, they wouldn’t face any repercussions.

On top of that, from the half of the grain they got to keep, they still had to pay taxes to the Court.

Fortunately, the Court’s tax rate wasn’t as high—only ten percent. This meant another tenth of the remaining grain had to be handed over.

The grain that was left was enough to last a year, and with a bit of luck, there might even be a surplus.

So, it was a way to survive, at least.

The people who farmed the Buddha Fields were either those who had no land of their own or those who were devoutly faithful to the Buddha.

After all, most farmers who owned and worked their own land could keep about seventy percent of their yield after taxes, provided the harvest was good.

That alone made it far better than farming the Buddha Fields.

Therefore, not just anyone wanted to farm the Buddha Fields; it was usually a last resort.

‘They’re devouring people, yet they’re so meticulous about the rules. Truly something else.’ Qi Suian found it incredibly dissonant.

They claimed to be good to the common people, and their attitude reflected that—it was even written into the scriptures of their Daoist Lineages. Yet, when it came to their actual financial interests, they showed no mercy whatsoever.

Qi Suian refused to believe the people at Xingdu Temple couldn’t see this.

‘And now a drought has arrived. Not only has it not rained, but the temperature hasn’t dropped either.’

‘The rivers are starting to run dry, and the fields are suffering.’ Qi Suian’s Buddha Field, however, was unaffected.

This was mainly because Huixin had arranged a prime location for him. As long as the river hadn’t completely dried up, Qi Suian’s fields wouldn’t lack for water.

However, the river’s water level was now visibly dropping, and many of the farmers working the Buddha Fields had reported the issue.

A few monks came down to investigate, but then there was nothing.

It wasn’t that Xingdu Temple didn’t want to solve the problem. Rather, the conflict between the Daoist Lineages in Guiyun City had escalated once again.

They simply had no time to deal with it. Even Huixin hadn’t visited once since getting him settled.

Qi Suian had heard just yesterday that a major battle had erupted in Guiyun City not long ago.

The word was that the ones fighting were no longer the third-realm practitioners—Scholars, Mages, and Daoists—but the Fourth Realm experts: Gongshi, High Monks, and Perfected Masters.

This meant the strongest experts of the three Daoist Lineages in Guiyun City had entered the fray.

The reason for the fight was simple. The City Lord of Guiyun City, acting on behalf of the Court, had summoned the local leaders of the three Daoist Lineages.

He wanted them to stop their dispute from escalating further, lest it affect the livelihood of the common people.

This was a reasonable request. After all, the City Lord of Guiyun City needed to maintain his political record. While special circumstances warranted special measures, he couldn’t let the situation get too out of hand.

But the talks fell apart. They started fighting right there in the city, and in the process, the three of them reduced the City Lord’s Mansion to rubble.

The only reason they stopped was that they didn’t dare kill a government official. Otherwise, the City Lord himself would have been killed.

And so, the situation devolved into its current state: a brutal, deadlocked conflict.

“As the old saying goes, ‘When the state prospers, the people suffer. When the state falls, the people also suffer,'” Qi Suian murmured.

He then turned his attention to the Daoist Lineage he had created. It didn’t have a name yet, but it was founded on the identity of the common people.

‘Sequence 1… no, that’s not right. It should be Daoist Lineage Foundation: Plaincloth.’

The term “Plaincloth” didn’t just refer to clothing; it was a byword for the common folk.

After all, commoners could only afford to wear coarse linen, unlike the wealthy, who wore fine silks and satins.

The Divine Technique it granted, Qi Suian named “Indomitable.”

It granted one extraordinary resilience and willpower, allowing them to draw out latent power by persisting through extreme hardship.

An apt analogy would be a weed: cut it down, and it just grows back again.

As for this “latent power,” it was nothing more than being harder to kill. Combined with resilience and willpower, it simply allowed one to survive longer.

The moment Qi Suian created the Plaincloth Daoist Lineage, he instantly advanced, becoming a Daoist Extraordinary.

However, compared to the three major Daoist Lineages, his Plaincloth path was far more subtle. Its Divine Technique had no outward manifestation and possessed no detectable energy.

Unless one of the Advanced Scholars, Arhats, or True Monarchs were to inspect him personally, it was impossible to see any change in Qi Suian. He seemed as ordinary as a weed by the roadside.

That was the defining trait of the common folk, after all. As a follower of the Plaincloth path, Qi Suian also possessed a corresponding… stealth. ‘Alright, it’s not a stealth ability at all,’ he thought. ‘I’m just genuinely unremarkable.’

‘My physical constitution has improved. I suppose I’d be considered a farmer who can really fight now.’

‘If I run into a Second Realm practitioner from one of the three great Daoist Lineages, it wouldn’t be hard to kill them, as long as I get in close.’

Fighting across realms required an exceptional Daoist Lineage, and the one Qi Suian had created certainly fit the bill.

He had designed it himself, after all. If it couldn’t even be used to kill those in higher realms, it would be utterly pathetic.

The three major Daoist Lineages only granted true Extraordinary power at the third realm. But Qi Suian’s was different—his granted it at the second.

The only thing was, he hadn’t yet conceptualized the identity for the next realm.

Advancement in a Daoist Lineage was a matter of elevating one’s identity, which in turn granted corresponding powers.

Therefore, for Qi Suian to break through, he would need to adopt a new identity.

Furthermore, this new identity had to be a natural progression from “Plaincloth,” not a huge leap.

For example, he could choose to become a Government Official or a thief. The former represented a commoner entering the path of officialdom, while the latter meant straying onto a crooked path.

The Divine Techniques granted by each path would naturally be different as well.

Qi Suian considered both for a moment but chose neither.

The main issue was that the Confucian Family and the Court were too deeply intertwined. If he chose a career in officialdom, he would inevitably clash with the Confucian Family far too soon.

Then, if he went on a killing spree, he’d undoubtedly face that classic problem: kill the young one, and the old one will show up for revenge.

That’s why a balance of power is maintained everywhere. But even so, things often spiral out of control.

‘I’ll have to remain an ordinary commoner for a while longer. The latent power within me hasn’t been fully drawn out yet.’

‘Besides, I’ll need a catalyst to change my identity.’ The catalyst Qi Suian had in mind was, of course, the drought.

The first signs were already emerging. If the powers of the Confucian, Buddhist, and Daoist Daoist Lineages didn’t intervene, the powder keg was bound to explode.

When people can no longer survive, what happens next is obvious.

They’ll either flee as refugees or rise in rebellion. It’s always one or the other.

At that point, the Court would be too preoccupied to manage its own affairs, and with the three families locked in conflict, the dynasty would be facing its final years.

For Qi Suian, this would be the perfect opportunity to rise.

‘Time to get back to farming,’ Qi Suian thought with a sigh. ‘Oh well. I’ll just treat it as playing a role.’ After a moment’s thought, he set to work.

The work had been easy before, but now it was even more effortless. He finished his tasks in no time.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here, Benefactor.” Ming Jue’s voice drifted over. “You’re truly a master of farming, Benefactor. Your work is so clean and efficient.”

Qi Suian looked at Ming Jue, who was standing on the path between the paddies, and walked closer. “Master Ming Jue,” he said, “were you looking for me?”

“Yes. I was coming down the mountain anyway, and Senior Monk Huixin asked me to bring something for you. He’s been too busy lately to come and see you himself, Benefactor,” Ming Jue said, reaching out to help Qi Suian up.

Once Qi Suian was on the path, Ming Jue took a book from within his robes and handed it to him.

“This is a martial art we use at Xingdu Temple to train our Novice Monks and Bhikkhus.”

“Although you were unable to join the Buddhist Sect, Benefactor, and its effects might not be ideal for you, it should still offer you some measure of protection,” Ming Jue explained.

Qi Suian glanced at the book. The cover read *Vajra Palm*. It wasn’t some secret technique.

Basically every Buddhist Family Daoist Lineage had a version of it. The specifics might differ, but the ultimate purpose was always to strengthen the body.

As for fending off powerful enemies… you could forget about that.

“Master Ming Jue, please thank Master Huixin for me,” Qi Suian said as he accepted the book.

He had already skimmed the contents. It was similar to an Ancient Martial Technique that didn’t use internal power. It wasn’t a mainstream practice within the Daoist Lineages and was really only useful for First Realm Novice Monks and Second Realm Bhikkhus.

By the time one reached the third realm of a Mage, it became useless. It was, after all, only meant for building a foundation. Once that stage was passed, it served no further purpose.

“You’re too kind, Benefactor. If there is nothing else, I’ll be on my way,” Master Ming Jue said, turning to leave.

An idea struck Qi Suian. He quickly asked, “Master Ming Jue, I was wondering… would it be possible for me to visit the temple and look at other martial arts manuals?”

Ming Jue paused at his question. “Of course. It’s just that with your daily farm work, Benefactor, I imagine you don’t have much free time.”

“I was thinking I could find some time to go, copy them down, and then study them in my leisure,” Qi Suian stated plainly.

“You have a fine disposition, Benefactor. It’s a shame you are past your prime. If you had started cultivating thirty years younger, you would have become a Mage at the very least,” Ming Jue remarked with a sigh. “Since that is your wish, I will write you a letter of introduction.”

“It will make things easier for you with the monks at the Scripture Pavilion.”

Going to Xingdu Temple now was, of course, not as convenient for Qi Suian as when he had lived there.

Generally, visitors were allowed to read the texts, but not to copy them. Furthermore, Qi Suian had no paper, ink, brushes, or an inkstone; he would have to procure them from Xingdu Temple.

This was the “convenience” Ming Jue was offering.

“You are too generous, Master.” Qi Suian hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

“You flatter me. I only hope you do not become obsessed with martial arts, Benefactor. Your farm work should come first,” Ming Jue added as a reminder.