Chapter 539: The Onset of Drought, the Daoist Lineage Struggle Begins

With the opportunity Ming Jue provided, Qi Suian quickly copied several martial arts manuals from the Scripture Pavilion.

In truth, there weren’t many—only seven in total. And one of them was the *Vajra Palm*, which Qi Suian already had.

It was normal for these techniques to be overlooked. The Daoist Lineages focused on their own esoteric methods, not these martial arts that were so incongruous with their paths.

For Qi Suian, however, they held the key to his next identity change.

For example, changing from a commoner to a Martial Artist. This was currently the most advantageous path.

After all, he had a history as an Ancient Martial Artist. By combining his Daoist Lineage with Ancient Martial Techniques, his chances of success were quite high.

He just hadn’t made up his mind yet. ‘The main issue is that being a Martial Artist consumes a lot of resources, far more than I can accumulate right now.’

At the very least, one had to eat and drink well, which clashed with the life of a commoner.

Commoners were ordinary folk; how many of them could possibly be wealthy?

Especially since Qi Suian only had ten taels of silver to his name—not nearly enough to support martial arts training.

Persona and role-playing were the core criteria for advancing in the Daoist Lineage realms.

Therefore, any transition had to be logical.

As for robbing and killing, that was a viable option.

But doing so wouldn’t make him a Martial Artist; it would just turn him into a robber or a bandit.

That was a terrible outcome.

Qi Suian wanted to make the change, but the process was a hassle.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about that for the time being, because the drought had arrived.

“The river’s run dry, and the crops in the fields have been scorched to death.” Qi Suian sighed, perfectly embodying the characteristics of an old farmer.

He was relatively lucky; his land was in a good location. Those in worse spots were already unable to make ends meet.

However, because of the drought, the conflict between the three Daoist Lineages of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism in Guiyun City had entered a temporary truce. They had all begun to buy up grain on a massive scale.

The three Daoist Lineages had not yet reached a level where they could abstain from food. For that, one had to reach at least the Fifth Realm, the level of an Advanced Scholar, Arhat, or Perfected One.

But in Guiyun City, the strongest members of the three factions were only in the Fourth Realm, so food was essential.

This was especially true for the first two foundation-building realms, where the food requirement increased by more than tenfold.

Conversely, once the foundation was established, they could absorb a portion of the ambient energy to supplement themselves, and their appetite would actually be smaller than an ordinary person’s.

The problem was, the vast majority of their members were in these first two realms.

And their collective appetite was deadly.

Qi Suian’s commoner realm didn’t have this problem. After all, common folk were good at enduring hardship.

He could eat a lot if he wanted, but maintaining a normal diet was also fine; it would just slow his growth rate.

He could gradually unleash his latent power by absorbing trace amounts of ambient energy.

Of course, he couldn’t stop eating entirely. A person still needed sufficient nutrients to live.

Qi Suian himself wasn’t human, but his survivor’s avatar was. Since he couldn’t supply it with energy directly, he had to eat.

Fortunately, his special status meant he wasn’t short on food.

‘At a time like this, the common folk who work for the three great Daoist Lineages are protected.’

‘They’ll be given relief grain to ensure a minimum standard of living.’

‘There certainly won’t be enough for them to eat their fill, but it’s enough to ensure they don’t starve.’

‘The ordinary folk, on the other hand… by the time the Court’s relief aid arrives, more than half of them will probably be dead.’

‘And compared to the three great Daoist Lineages, with their strict rules and precepts, the officials sent by the Court for disaster relief are not guaranteed to be good people.’

‘Skimming from the relief funds is probably the most common practice.’

Qi Suian knew this disaster would undoubtedly bring trouble.

‘So, how can I use this drought to complete my identity change and break through to the next realm?’ Qi Suian pondered, quickly locking onto a single word.

Ranger.

This didn’t refer to a class in a game, but to those who performed chivalrous deeds—people who valued honor above their own lives and bravely rescued others in distress.

Of course, it could also refer to scoundrels.

It described a unique social group from ancient times.

‘Chaos is coming. It’s the perfect opportunity to change my identity. I’ll become a Ranger and master powerful martial arts.’

Qi Suian planned to take the martial arts he’d acquired as a transitional step and integrate them directly into his own Daoist Lineage as a Divine Technique.

Without the enhancement of a Divine Technique, they were ordinary. But if they became one, things would be completely different.

The Vajra Palm could truly manifest a Vajra’s Furious Gaze, and the Wind-piercing Leg could truly become as swift as the wind.

Combined with the Divine Technique from his commoner class, he would be tough to kill and a strong fighter—definitely powerful enough.

That’s right. When one advanced in a Daoist Lineage, their Divine Techniques didn’t disappear. Instead, they were strengthened with each new realm, so there was no fear of them becoming useless.

It’s like building a house; you don’t demolish the first floor and foundation after finishing the second.

‘A Ranger isn’t like a Martial Artist. While I won’t be able to elevate my martial arts to the Martial Dao, it offers greater flexibility and is a better fit for the current situation.’

A Martial Artist had to be unyielding, one who would rather break than bend. His personality wasn’t a good match for that.

The Ranger, with its shades of a scoundrel, was far more appealing to Qi Suian.

However, the drawback was also obvious: their overall strength was inferior to a Martial Artist’s.

But that didn’t matter. Qi Suian wasn’t too concerned about it. Once he had a foundational level of power, it wouldn’t be much trouble to supplement it later.

Besides, no matter how strong a Martial Artist was, at best they could fight one realm above themselves, maybe take on someone from a Third Realm Daoist Lineage. And even then, a kill wasn’t guaranteed.

There was a fundamental logic to the power scaling here. The Daoist Lineage hierarchies had extremely strict divisions; the higher one climbed, the harder it became to fight across realms.

So, since he couldn’t achieve overwhelming power in a short amount of time, he might as well switch to a faster method of advancement.

With that thought, Qi Suian began practicing the seven martial arts. He didn’t need to practice them many times each day—once for each was enough.

This was mainly to lay the groundwork.

Now, he just needed an opportunity to resolve a major conflict. Afterward, he could logically ascend from the commoner realm to the Ranger realm.

This couldn’t be some simple neighborhood squabble; it had to be an event with significant impact.

After a full round of practice, Qi Suian felt nothing.

The Divine Technique granted by his commoner realm had already raised his strength to a completely different level. As a result, these seven basic martial arts were useless to him.

They barely served as a warm-up. If it weren’t a prerequisite for his breakthrough, he would be too lazy to practice them at all.

Practicing martial arts at least once a day was a prerequisite, equivalent to the daily cultivation rituals of the three great Daoist Lineages.

If he didn’t do it, the prerequisite wouldn’t be met. Even if he fulfilled all other conditions later, he would still be stuck.

Qi Suian wanted to change this, but it was a fundamental mechanism of this Daoist World. Unless he gave up entirely, he had to play by the rules.

He could try to force a change, but that would expose him and cause this survivor avatar to suffer the consequences.

Either stand tall and make a living in the mountains, or kneel and scrape by in the city.

For now, Qi Suian’s strength and schemes didn’t allow him to stand tall.

Otherwise, he would have devoured this world in one gulp long ago, rather than hiding and sipping at its essence.

—————–

“A great drought… This is not good.” Huiyun’s face was a mask of despair.

He had just calculated Xingdu Temple’s grain reserves. From the highest-ranking monk to the lowest, they could last half a year at most.

And that was only with the strictest rationing.

Xingdu Temple couldn’t just look after its own; they also had to support the Buddha Farmers and Buddhist Artisans. If they lost the people’s hearts, their support network would collapse.

“Abbot,” Huixin said, “it’s not as if there’s no solution. Zhu Huan Academy and Pear Blossom Temple have considerable grain reserves.”

“If we eliminate those two, not only can we support our Buddha Farmers and Buddhist Artisans, but we can also use the remaining grain to open our granaries and aid the common folk.”

The implication was clear: make the other two factions suffer so that they could survive.

After all, redistribution was far easier than creation.

As long as they could endure the initial phase and hold out until the Court’s relief arrived, Xingdu Temple would not only emerge unscathed but also achieve victory.

“Martial Uncle Huixin’s words are wise,” Ming Jue said calmly. “But if we can think of this, I’m afraid Zhu Huan Academy and Pear Blossom Temple can too. Therefore, we must strike first to gain the advantage.”

When facing rival Daoist Lineages, their compassion vanished completely. All their talk was of annihilation and slaughter.

They were of course bound by precepts against killing and wrath, but those applied only to their own people and ordinary folk. When facing enemies of their Daoist Lineage, such rules could be completely ignored.

This was the so-called “Law of Protecting the Dao”—the principle that prioritized the protection of one’s own lineage.

They weren’t the only ones; the Confucian and Daoist schools had similar interpretations of priority.

“An all-out war… in the end, only the common people will suffer.” Huiyun was still hesitant. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered this; he just couldn’t bear the thought.

“To kill one to save ten is a worthy trade,” Ming Jue offered a different perspective. “Besides, as long as we act quickly enough, the impact on the common folk will be minimal.”

“If you continue to hesitate, Master, and Zhu Huan Academy or Pear Blossom Temple seizes the initiative, then our demise is certain.”

“We would have no regrets dying in this drought, but how can we stand to be killed by the enemies of our Daoist Lineage?”

Hearing Ming Jue’s words, a sharp glint flashed in Huiyun’s eyes. “So be it. Afterward, we shall live frugally, and when we distribute grain, we will give the majority to the people as compensation.”

What truly made Huiyun resolve himself was Ming Jue’s line about being killed by the enemies of their Daoist Lineage.

To him, that would be the greatest shame.

“That’s the right way to think, Abbot. If we fail the people, we will compensate them generously in the future.”

“But the enemies of our Daoist Lineage must die!” Huixin immediately voiced his support.

With Ming Jue and Huixin’s persuasion, and the Abbot’s approval, the remaining monks naturally had no objections.

“This is a matter of life and death for Xingdu Temple. Every last one of us, from the lowest Novice Monk to myself, will leave the temple and take action.”

“We must annihilate Zhu Huan Academy and Pear Blossom Temple at the earliest possible moment.”

“We move at midnight tonight.”

“Let no word of this leak out,” Huiyun said, his voice cold as a chilling killing intent emanated from him.

“Yes, Abbot!” came the chorus of replies.

This matter concerned their very survival; no one would be foolish enough to leak the time of the attack.

As for why midnight, it was because that was the time when everyone would be deep in sleep.

It was the best time to strike and would also minimize the impact on the lives of the common people.

A poor night’s sleep was better than getting injured.

But there was one problem: it was highly likely that Zhu Huan Academy and Pear Blossom Temple were thinking the exact same thing.